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Vegeta healed. He always did. His bladder was back to normal. Or at least, back to what ‘normal’ was for him. Which was to say that it remained a disobedient, traitorous thing that refused to comply with any of his wishes. But, it no longer spasmed suddenly and made him feel close to exploding when seconds before he’d had no urge. It no longer stung when he emptied it. His urine was back to the color it was SUPPOSED to be, no longer tinted pink. And, he thought it actually was a little bit stronger. Apparently, Kakarot had been right about something. Just as Vegeta always came back from the brink of death as a better fighter, his bladder worked the same way. This was not good. HE was the one that needed to defeat the stupid thing, after all. And it had been overwhelming him BEFORE. He had to strain HARDER to get his muscles to cede and actually let him go, his bladder tightening up and fighting him with more fervor than ever. Clearly, this HAD to be thanks to something similar to the Zenkai Boost. His bladder was tougher because he’d nearly killed it, that was why he was having more difficulty urinating. Because the only OTHER explanation was that everything that had happened to him during and after that trip had made his asinine ‘feelings’ get worse, and THEY were responsible for his bladder somehow getting even MORE prone to ‘lock-ups’. And that couldn’t have been it. Vegeta would not ALLOW that to be it. When he tried to go, he was acutely aware that the coldness in his chest was at a lower temperature than ever, and starting to move up into his shoulders and down his arms. And he KNEW that the REAL reason he couldn’t pee was just because his bladder had toughened up after its near-death experience. Basic Saiyan biology. That was just how it worked. All evidence to the contrary was shoved aside. Thanks to the annoying Zenkai Boost— And that WAS all that it was!— Vegeta, infuriatingly, actually LOST some of the progress he’d made. That had NEVER happened to him before, once he’d mastered an ability, he could always do it from that day forward! But, now he was struggling to pee if Bulma was in bed again! He told himself over and over again that she’d hear nothing, and it still wasn’t enough! The memory of her being there, doting on him as he recovered from his infection, kept pulling his muscles taut. And it was completely normal for things like that to happen with a Zenkai Boost— Vegeta’s feelings were NOT involved in any way! He left the restroom in frustration. He was gonna have to return to waiting for her to fall asleep before he could urinate. Gah, he wished he’d KNOWN that was going to happen, he would have had less to drink while he’d been training today. He’d just been CERTAIN he’d be able to relieve himself early in the evening, now he was gonna have to hold off for another couple hours, pretending nothing was wrong. He sat down in bed beside Bulma and gradually eased his legs outward until they reached the angle they’d form if he DIDN’T want to use the restroom. He just WANTED to use it, he reminded himself. If he truly NEEDED to go, then his bladder would have emptied when he’d told it to. Bulma tried not to frown. Since, of course, she actually COULD hear him peeing from bed, she knew that he hadn’t gone. She’d actually heard him huffing a bit from frustration in there instead. She held her tongue, if she said anything encouraging, then he’d know she could tell he hadn’t peed— And from there it would be easy for him to work out that she could, in fact, hear his stream hissing whenever she was in this room. His ability to let it flow in here was clearly contingent on him continuing to believe the lie that the bed was simply too far away from the bathroom door for her to notice anything. It concerned her that it hadn’t worked this time. Ever since she’d convinced him that his stream was inaudible, he’d been doing so well. Every time he went in there, he’d be peeing after just a minute or so. This was the first time he’d failed to let it go. Wanting to encourage him somehow, and reinforce the lie he was depending on, Bulma asked “Do you need any more medicine? It’s stopped… Burning, hasn’t it?” Vegeta wished she hadn’t mentioned his illness. Now that it was over, he never wanted to hear about it again. “Y—Yes…” Internally, he was screaming at her to just go to sleep. He’d had WAY too much water. If he didn’t get some of it out soon… He could already sort of feel a bit of pinching in his back. Maybe he could try starting from the beginning again— Tell Bulma that he needed to go, then do it somewhere else further away from her. No, not now. She thought he’d just went, she’d either figure out that he’d failed, or start… doting on him again, assuming his infection had reappeared. He HAD to hold it, and he couldn’t allow there to be ANY indication that he was doing so. When he noticed his legs starting to move closer together, he shoved them back out then, hit with another spasm, he laid down on his side and tried to pretend he was just tired. Showing signs of exhaustion— particularly when he’d merely engaged in his USUAL regimen today— was disgraceful as well. Just, nowhere near as awful as letting on that he needed to urinate and couldn’t do it. There were some moments where Vegeta really missed having a tail. He didn’t need to transform anymore, so he didn’t pine for the ability very much. It was the tail itself that he wanted back. It just BEING there could be helpful sometimes. Vegeta had an intense desire to move around, and if he still had a TAIL… The Earth woman would have no way of knowing that it was common for a Saiyan to thump or twitch the end of their tail when their bladder was aching. Before he’d lost his tail, flicking it around a bit had always helped ease some of the tension. And it was a subtle enough action that it usually escaped notice. He’d tense himself up and WANT to start squirming, but if he moved his tail around instead he could ignore that urge a while longer, with no one being made aware of his problem. Without a tail, Vegeta had to ignore all of his body’s demands to move around. Anything he did to calm his bladder would make his condition obvious to Bulma. He couldn’t cross his legs or bounce them, he couldn’t hold himself, he couldn’t stand up and pace, or double over. Humans did the same things when they had to urinate. He knew the reason his tail never re-grew was just because transforming no longer served a purpose to him. He knew Bulma probably didn’t WANT his tail to come back, requiring her to make note of when the full moon appeared so she could forbid him from going outside at night. He did seriously miss it sometimes, though. Another advantage the tail gave him in these sorts of moments; He could coil it around his legs. That was a BIT more obvious, but not as bad as actually CROSSING them. He had wrapped his tail around himself in front of others before, and Nappa— the idiot— HAD asked him about it. Vegeta just insisted he was trying to scratch an itch, and that had been it. Another way to hold it in and squirm without alerting everyone around him to the fact that he was full. Without a tail, his options were so limited. He couldn’t soothe his bladder at ALL without Bulma noticing. He had to stay STILL, had to keep his legs splayed apart, had to stop all this TREMBLING that was only getting worse by the second. He was so tense, he couldn’t stop shaking, nor could he let any part of his body relax without prompting more angry yells from his tormented bladder. Kakarot said he just looked COLD when he twitched like this, though. Vegeta told himself the shudders weren’t all that obvious. He could even complain to Bulma that she kept their room too cold, just to dislodge ANY thoughts that his skin was only buzzing because he really needed to— To his immense relief, Bulma yawned tiredly. “It’s been a long day,” she said. “I think I’ll go to sleep early tonight. You don’t mind, do you?” Vegeta definitely didn’t mind, and tried to stay as still as he could as he waited for her to snore. He was so done with this nonsense, now he was wondering if he ought to ask the dragon to just… Work some kind of magic on his biology so that he didn’t even NEED a bladder anymore. If the Namekians could all get by without one, then a Saiyan should be able to as well! Once he was certain Bulma was asleep, he stood from the bed. Immediately, his bladder surged and a hand started to fly towards his crotch. He stopped himself from making contact but, remembering no one could see what he was doing, he gave in and squeezed, maintaining the hold as he walked back to the restroom. Once he’d locked himself inside, he tried to get his clothing apart. Again, he longed for the return of his tail. This was ANOTHER thing it could be useful for. Out in space, when he was finally alone for a few minutes and decided it was time to relieve himself, the strangest thing tended to happen. When his body realized that he had solitude and privacy, he’d suddenly feel way closer to bursting than he had just seconds before. He could have been controlling himself perfectly well, barely moving, then he was by himself and unable to resist doubling over and sometimes even gripping himself. It was difficult to deal with his clothes when both his hands wanted to stay between his legs, and that was where his tail came in. It wasn’t the most comfortable way to bend it, but he could hold his crotch with his tail while his hands managed everything else. Without a tail, he kept going back and forth between squeezing himself and actually working to RESOLVE his situation. Clothes finally out of his way, he tried to start his stream His bladder cramped, twisted, and it was like it was knotting its own opening up, tying it shut. ‘Dammit, you’re alone, and you were just doing that idiotic dance. How can you need to flail around like that if you won’t even void when you’re trying to?!’ Vegeta thought. ‘Bulma’s not even awake. Just—‘ Flashes of the days he’d spent sick, and the horrible night that had started it, pinged through his mind. He’d actually pissed himself. He’d… Had an accident in front of Kakarot, and then he’d needed to lay in bed while someone took care of him. What could be more pathetic than that? He was so feeble and puny, a frail little— All of those thoughts came to him in Frieza’s disgusting hiss, drowning out his own internal voice. He thought of one more thing his tail might have been useful for. When a Saiyan’s tail was squeezed, it was very painful, and it resulted in a loss of body strength. Vegeta had MOSTLY overcome this weakness. By the end of his tail’s life, it didn’t completely immobilize him if someone pulled it, but he still tended to feel a bit dazed and less in control of himself. Since he actually WANTED a few of his muscles to lose their strength, he wished he still had a ‘button’ he could press to make that happen. If he still had his tail, then maybe if he gripped it tightly enough, his bladder control would shatter and he’d finally get to let something out. Even though he KNEW it wouldn’t work, and would only make him feel worse if anything, Vegeta put a hand to his lower stomach and pressed on it. He TRIED to do it gently, but pain erupted beneath the touch anyway. “Hnng—!” *** Bulma hadn’t actually fallen asleep, she’d just done her best to PRETEND that she had so that Vegeta would stop hurting himself. She’d been so relieved when she heard him get up, but that relief had disappeared when minutes passed and he STILL hadn’t started peeing. Bulma was sure he’d had even worse experiences with this before, but this was the worst bout she’d been PRESENT for and it made her nervous. Vegeta was completely alone, as far as he knew. There was no reason for him to still be locking up. This told her that it wasn’t even JUST the presence of other people that caused him trouble. There were OTHER things that could do it, and clearly those were harder to get out of his way than simply giving him a bit of extra privacy. When she heard him growl like he was in pain, Bulma cautiously got out of bed. As she approached the door, she wasn’t sure what exactly she planned on doing. Asking him if he was okay would just make it worse, but the desire to comfort him somehow was still there. How could she comfort someone that was too proud to admit he ever NEEDED it? Choosing to keep up with her ‘sleepy’ charade, she just reached for the doorknob and twisted it. Of course, it was locked. And she heard Vegeta inhale sharply. Bulma faked a yawn, “Hm… Vegeta, you in th—“ “G—Go back to bed!” “I will in a minute, I need to go after you’re done,” Bulma told him. She still had no idea what she was doing, this wasn’t going to help, he was just going to— “Fine!” Vegeta snapped. “I’ll be out in a second!” “Were you able to—“ “YES,” Vegeta insisted, throwing the door open. Bulma watched warily as it hit the wall. It was too dark to tell if he’d put a crack in it or not. “I was— Ev—Everything is FINE, and—“ “Vegeta, you’re squirming,” Bulma pointed out. Vegeta was swaying from foot to foot, hands shaking and clenching as he tried SO hard not to grab himself again if only to ease the pressure for a second. “No, I’m not.” “What’s bothering you?” Bulma asked. “You weren’t able to go, were you?” “I thought you said you needed to piss, just— Just do that, and go back to sleep. I’m f—“ “Can we talk about th—“ “There is NOTHING to talk about!” Vegeta exclaimed. “It— It just… It is what it is, alright?” Bulma sighed. “You were doing so well…” That was the LAST thing Vegeta needed to hear. “I KNOW that!” He yelled. “I don’t need you to tell me! It got worse, I’m too weak to fix it, I’m a—“ “Vegeta, no,” Bulma said, grabbing his hands. “Is that what’s been on your mind? No wonder you’re having so much trouble again.” Vegeta didn’t respond. He didn’t WANT to respond. He never wanted to talk about this AGAIN with ANYONE. Why couldn’t she just leave him be? His bladder wouldn’t drain now, so he’d just try it again LATER and, if it still didn’t work, he’d keep waiting and trying until it finally DID. He could handle it! His back was starting to feel awfully caustic, and his lower abdominals were on fire, but he could DEAL with a bit of pain! Being in pain was way easier than talking about his stupid ‘feelings’! “This whole thing— It’s ALL about what you’re thinking,” Bulma told him. “If you keep telling yourself you’re ‘weak’, you’re going to make it worse. Try it one more time, and this time, tell yourself that you’re strong.” Vegeta shook his head, but entered the restroom again anyway. He tried to do as Bulma said, but the angrier thoughts, which came to him in Frieza’s voice, were way louder. When KAKAROT told him he was strong, he was always able to— Furious with himself, Vegeta pretended Kakarot was there, giving him those stupid encouragements. He was seriously depending on Kakarot— An imaginary Kakarot, sure, but still— It was freaking Kakarot! It wasn’t even WORKING this time, anyway. He honestly thought he was going to need to physically HEAR— “Bulma, are you still out there?” “I— I am,” Bulma said. “I can go wait in the hall if you—“ “No… I…” Vegeta’s chest CLENCHED, icy tendrils dripping down all his ribs. “I want you to talk to me.” “Talk to you?” Bulma repeated. “But, won’t that make it even wor—“ “I—It depends on what you say,” Vegeta said. “When Ka—“ He stopped himself, appalled that he’d nearly mentioned how Kakarot had been ‘assisting’ him. “I think I need to… Hear it.” “Hear what?” Bulma asked. “That you’re strong, and that you can do this…?” Vegeta squirmed where he stood, his bladder rolling, teeth clenching, face burning… “… Yes,” he admitted. “And if you EVER bring this up—“ “I know, I know,” Bulma sighed. “You’ll blow up the galaxy, or whatever.” “… Could you—“ “Okay, um… You can do it, Vegeta?” Bulma said awkwardly. This felt utterly surreal, she never would have thought she’d need to do something like this. Since Vegeta had brought himself to REQUEST it of her, he must have genuinely needed it, but that didn’t make it any less weird. “You’re… So powerful.” Vegeta felt a pinching, which was more than he’d been able to conjure so far. “K—Keep talking…” This was working. WHY was this working? How could he possibly NEED something that was so asinine and coddling?! Something HAD to work though, he’d burst if nothing worked! “You’re… Um… Way stronger than your ‘problem’, it can’t defeat you, you’re too—“ She was interrupted by the sound of liquid beginning to patter against liquid. He was going. Finally. But she’d sort of been expecting an immediate tidal wave, considering how desperate he’d been, and how loud his streams USUALLY were. This dismal trickle… She really WOULDN’T be able to hear it if she was in bed. After a couple seconds, the noise got louder and more forceful, more like what she was USED to hearing. Unsure, and not wanting to cause him to stop, she asked “You want me to keep talki—“ “No…” Vegeta said, a VERY strange quality to his voice that she didn’t think she’d EVER heard before. It was so calm and breathy, almost gentle… “That was…. That was satisfactory, you can stop.” Bulma stayed by the door anyway, trying NOT to feel too perturbed by how copiously Vegeta was urinating. She knew she ought to have gotten used to it, but after seeing him get SO sick from holding too much in, she couldn’t help but worry about it. He could easily make himself ill again. He’d told her repeatedly that Saiyans DID have larger bladders than humans, so that meant he wasn’t harming himself, and she had no reason to concern herself over his ‘private matters’. She couldn’t help it. Goku didn’t pee like that, and Goku was… Well, the major issue Bulma kept running into was that, for as strong as Vegeta’s bladder may have been, and even if Saiyans just naturally had bigger ones, it still… It had to actually FIT inside of Vegeta’s body. And Vegeta was kind of… Maybe not ‘small’, exactly, he had more than enough muscle. But, compared to the other Saiyans Bulma had seen? Vegeta was… Really short. Now that Bulma had begun to pay more attention to Vegeta’s bladder issue, she’d noticed on multiple occasions that he sometimes got a little swollen in the middle. His body really WAS struggling to fit all of that inside it, and it forced him to stretch out in order to CREATE more space. Vegeta was feeling a confused mix of sensations. He was so utterly relieved that he was gritting his teeth against a satisfied moan, but the shame was even stronger than that. Why did he NEED to… Basically hear someone cheer him on before he could do this?! He knew that he FOUGHT better if he’d just heard someone else express confidence in him, or praise him in some way. There wasn’t anything embarrassing about being told ‘You’re so strong, Vegeta!’ seconds before he went to knock somebody out. Hearing it before he peed— NEEDING to hear it before he even COULD pee— was a different story entirely. He knew he should just be grateful that SOMETHING worked to free him from the torment of desperation, he just couldn’t shake off how pathetic it felt to need HELP with such a private thing. He tried not to focus on that, maybe if he directed all of his attention towards the PHYSICAL sensations, his idiotic emotions would back off and leave him be. That had worked before during battles, it could work now. It really did feel good to let go… Since he did this so infrequently, he was accustomed to always feeling the urge at least a little bit. Often, he still felt like he was desperate even as he was peeing, his bladder so full that it took a bit for him to get enough out to make a dent in the pressure. The pain was slowly decreasing now, the sensation of his bladder deflating and shrinking back down was so… “Ahhh…” Startled, he clamped his mouth shut, blushing hard. Bulma had probably heard that… She had, and it startled her almost as much as the amount of liquid Vegeta could hold. She knew that was a GOOD noise, and meant he was comfortable rather than still suffering. She just hadn’t ever heard him MAKE a sound like that before, so it was a little jarring. His stream finally trickled off and ended. She heard the sink running, and then nothing for several seconds. Clearly, he was in no hurry to come back out. “Vegeta, you okay?” Bulma wasn’t sure why she was asking. She knew that he wouldn’t tell her if he wasn’t. “F—Fine…” Vegeta said, finally opening the door. His cheeks were painted red, and his eyes refused to meet hers. What she’d done for him just now felt weirdly intimate. It hadn’t felt… Sexual, thankfully. Just really close in a less-than-comfortable way. It felt noticeably different with Bulma from how it did with Kakarot. Kakarot just seemed to lack the social awareness required to think anything was weird about it. Bulma KNEW it was strange, and had to just try to ignore that. Vegeta was forced to acknowledge that he PREFERRED doing this with Kakarot. Kakarot’s failure to notice that the ‘encouragement’ was awkward somehow made it FEEL less awkward to Vegeta. Kakarot was so annoyingly comfortable with the whole thing, that it actually lifted a bit of the humiliation. With Bulma, both of them felt a little embarrassed. He hoped he wouldn’t have to ask Bulma for that again. And, seeing as he apparently needed to start the whole process of eradicating his problem over again, he went back to the beginning. He’d force himself to SAY something to Bulma related to him peeing, and hope that doing so wouldn’t lock his body up again. “I… Uh… I was… I was able to finish this time.” Bulma hadn’t doubted that— She’d be seriously disturbed if the ocean he’d just released HADN’T been all of it— There must have been some reason he felt the need to tell her, though. “That’s good, Vegeta. Talking to you helped?” “… Yes,” he admitted. “Great. Now, what do you say?” Bulma prompted. She’d teach Vegeta how to say ‘thank you’ if it was the last thing she ever— “One word to anyone and I’ll pick a few of your favorite things and blow them all up.” Well. That was better than him threatening to blow up the entire galaxy, anyway. It was too bad he was struggling so much again. He’d been doing well and, Bulma thought, building some kind of confidence about this. He needed to get that back somehow. Ordinarily, if someone asked Bulma if she wanted to give Vegeta any sort of ego-boost, she’d tell them that she’d rather shave her head and chop off her legs. But, if that same person asked if she wanted to keep him from getting sick again… What could she do to REALLY encourage him? Maybe if she could simply change how he THOUGHT about this whole topic, it would go a long way to helping him overcome it. He associated urination with weakness and defeat, that much was obvious. If she could get him to associate it with victory instead… She could think of only one surefire way to do that.
“You know what might be fun, Goku?” Bulma asked. This was going to be challenging, she needed to propose this to Goku without explaining her motivation. If she let anything about Vegeta’s problem slip to Goku, the rage would be beyond anything she’d ever seen before, and his ability to trust her would never recover. “Don’t let him know I told you this, but Vegeta’s still not feeling very good. That food poisoning was awful. But, you know how he is… He’s convinced you’re gonna get so far ahead of him now that he’ll never catch up. So, I wanted to see if you’d be willing to compete with him in something OTHER than fighting.” “I guess,” Goku said. “He’s still sick?” “A little,” Bulma said. “He’s doing much better, but I’m still not gonna let him work himself up again just yet. That’s why I thought you two could do something that isn’t so strenuous for once. Like, maybe a water drinking contest.” To her surprise, Goku didn’t immediately say that it ‘sounded fun’, or even just suggest that they drink something tastier than water. Instead his eyebrows furrowed. “Um… Really?” For his part, Goku was pretty confused. Had Vegeta somehow managed to NEVER tell Bulma about his problem? Okay, sure, Vegeta refusing to share his feelings was to be expected, but… GOKU had eventually figured it out by himself, and he knew he wasn’t exactly the smartest guy around. Bulma was a genius, though! How could she not tell by now? Whatever had happened to cause Bulma to ‘miss’ what was glaringly obvious to Goku, this contest was not a good idea. Bulma was right about one thing, Goku knew EXACTLY how Vegeta was, and how he would behave in almost any situation. Vegeta wouldn’t hesitate to drink an absurd amount of water, as fast as he possibly could. He’d probably be AWARE of the fact that he was only sabotaging himself, but in his mind that wouldn’t even come CLOSE to mattering— Not when there was a possibility for him to defeat Goku. If Goku tried to only drink a little in order to encourage Vegeta to take it easy, he’d be shouted at to stop holding back, victory wouldn’t count unless Goku TRIED. Then, after the contest— Very SHORTLY after the contest, since Vegeta had chugged so much so quickly— he’d be bursting at the seams and incapable of doing anything about it. The contest would have people there to watch it— Bulma would be there, at least. Goku could MAYBE get Vegeta away for a bit of privacy, but how discreetly he managed to DO that depended on who all was there. “A water drinking contest,” Bulma repeated. “We see which one of you can drink the most the fastest, and then…” she paused. “Okay, before you say anything I know this is weird. There IS a reason I’m suggesting it, I promise. I just can’t tell you. But… After that, you and Vegeta are going to… See which one of you can ‘hold it’ the longest.” Wow, that was… Goku didn’t have a problem with trying new things, and he’d be willing to try THIS, if it was with anyone else. Vegeta would just… He’d be thoroughly uncomfortable the entire time, and very little of that would have to do with just needing to pee. Vegeta had made it abundantly clear that a huge part of his problem was that he couldn’t tolerate anyone knowing that his bladder was full— That he even HAD a bladder at all. If he was placed in a situation where everyone around him KNEW that he had to pee, where they were all anticipating it, where him needing to pee was the only thing ANYONE was focused on… Goku couldn’t think of a more cruel way to torture Vegeta. And, through it all— Goku knew how Vegeta WAS— He’d be humiliated and feeling utterly terrible, but this was STILL a way for him to prove himself superior to Goku. If this contest was suggested to him, he wouldn’t be able decline, no matter how much he KNEW he should. Goku quitting early so that Vegeta DIDN’T actually get desperate would earn him rage rather than gratitude. It was a bad idea. And since Bulma apparently HADN’T ever figured out Vegeta’s problem, Goku now had to get her to drop this plan without explaining what was so bad about it. “I… I don’t know about that,” he said. “Er… Have you mentioned this to Vegeta yet?” He paused and thought, trying to stop himself from giving too much away. Vegeta would be FURIOUS at him if he told Bulma. Clearly if he’d kept it a secret for this long, he NEVER wanted her to know. “Because, I think he’d start shouting that it’s ‘childish’ and ‘beneath the pride of a mighty Saiyan warrior.’” “He might,” Bulma agreed. “But, there IS a reason I want him to do this.” Goku thought about that, struggling to come up with a single reason Bulma would WANT Vegeta to be put in that position. When he remembered some stuff Gohan had mentioned, it started to make a little sense, though. Gohan had a ‘problem’ too, it just wasn’t as bad as Vegeta’s was. He COULD pee wherever he wanted, but needed someone to give him permission first. He’d had lots of trouble at school for a while, until he told his friend Videl about it and she started telling him to pee during their breaks. Except, sometimes Gohan came home still squirming and desperate, and he said that Videl hadn’t ever given him permission! Instead, she’d just spent the whole day teasing him, and telling him that he looked ‘cute’ when he crossed his legs and jumped around. Goku hadn’t understood that even the tiniest bit, but if he’d learned ANYTHING during his first adventure with Bulma, it was that girls were weird and confusing. “Oh, okay,” Goku said. “I think I understand… You just wanna watch Vegeta and me fidget around for a while, right? Vegeta’s probably gonna get mad if you ask him, but I can do it on my own if you wa—“ “Wh—What are you—“ Bulma was blinking at him with a look of embarrassed horror. “Who even TAUGHT you about that, Goku?! There’s no way you thought of it on your own!” “Gohan says Videl sometimes won’t let him pee ‘cause she likes how he looks when he—“ “That’s not why I want to do this!” Bulma interrupted. She would love it if she never saw Vegeta truly desperate again. Since, to Vegeta, ‘desperate’ meant he was holding multiple liters of piss and his bladder was basically about to tear him open. The only part that was even ALMOST cute was how much he blushed, and— “That’s not it,” Bulma repeated. “You’re right, he probably won’t like this, but I’m… I’m sort of trying to help him with something, and I think this will work.” Goku shook his head. “I’m… Actually trying to help him with something too,” he said. “And… Uh… That’s… Kinda why I think this is a bad idea.” Bulma paused. “Wait, Goku… Did Vegeta tell you about—“ She stopped herself. “Did Vegeta ever mention anything about… Uh, this?” “He DID tell you?” Goku asked. “That’s great! It was getting really hard not to just say it.” “He ACTUALLY told you,” Bulma repeated. “I only got him to mention it after yelling at him for a few minutes, how did YOU—“ “He didn’t ‘tell me’ exactly, I just kinda figured it out,” Goku said.   “And you said you’ve been ‘helping’ him?!” “Oh, yeah… Uh, don’t tell Vegeta I mentioned that part!” Goku’s panic rose for a second. “He’d be mad, and then he wouldn’t want me to help anymore, and he— He won’t admit it, but he really needs for me to keep—“ “I won’t tell him,” Bulma promised. “I’m just surprised.” Thinking it over though, she supposed she shouldn’t have been THAT shocked. Vegeta and Goku spent most of their time together, and she was sure Goku had trained himself to notice ANY sign of weakness his opponents showed. An urgently full bladder would be an easy one to spot. And, all that time together meant Vegeta DID trust Goku quite a bit. Of course, if he was going to someone for help, who else would it be? She was still certain that her idea was a good one and, with Goku aware of what the goal actually was, she was even MORE sure that it would be successful. “A—Anyway, that’s why I wanted you guys to do this. Vegeta needs to look at this in a different way, and… No offense to either of you, but this is the only thing I can imagine Vegeta easily beating you at.” NOW, Goku thought it all made sense. Vegeta would FINALLY defeat him at something, and it would be a huge boost to his confidence. It might even help him get rid of his problem— Or, at least, make it a little less severe. Whenever he went to pee and started to think that it made him weak, he could instead think ‘My bladder’s five times the size of Kakarot’s! It’s the strongest one there is!’ Goku could give his friend that. If it made him feel better, Goku would agree to a contest that he was doomed to lose. That wasn’t to say he had any intention of giving up and not trying his best. He doubted the plan would even WORK if he did that! He knew Vegeta, and he knew Vegeta wouldn’t consider it a true victory unless it was close, and he’d had to work hard for it. Goku started to dread the contest a little bit then. Every part of his body had been rigorously trained since he was a child. Every part of his body was amazingly strong, and got tougher every day. Every part, except for one. Goku had never been all that great at holding it. That was sort of inevitable. He seriously just never really WAITED as a kid, if he had to pee, he’d DO it. He was outside pretty much constantly, he’d probably ‘used’ every tree in his living area at least once. When he was little, it was just… Fun to pee on things. Sometimes he’d draw shapes in the dirt with his stream. He’d probably STILL be doing that if it didn’t cause Chi-Chi to yell at him. But, after he met Bulma, he’d needed to be painstakingly trained OUT of the habit of just peeing wherever he felt like it. Many times, Bulma had shouted at him “At least go behind a bush first!” Goku had tried to remember, but sometimes the need would just hit him and he’d HAVE to do it right there! He hadn’t understood why Bulma had to get so angry about it. Later, when Bulma taught him that sometimes he was going to have to WAIT, Goku had struggled immensely. “We’re in a town, Goku. You can’t just pee on the ground here. You’ll get in trouble. Wait until we find a toilet.” A few times, he’d tried to sneak off and pee somewhere Bulma wouldn’t notice, because he just NEEDED to do it so badly… But, Bulma usually DID notice, and she’d scold him and order him to stop before he’d even gotten his pants out of the way. Over time, he managed to get SLIGHTLY better at waiting, but he still hated the feeling. He only held it if he had literally NO choice— Usually because he knew someone ELSE would get angry at him for it. Vegeta had held it for two days. Goku could NEVER do that, it was utterly impossible for him to even get close. But, he WOULD force himself to hold it to his very limit— He’d wait until he was practically having an accident— And Vegeta would get to experience a victory that would, Goku hoped, go a long way towards fixing his problem. Vegeta HIMSELF had even thought about doing this for a few seconds before, maybe he wouldn’t be too opposed to trying it. * “Are you out of your mind?!” Vegeta demanded. “What has to have happened to you for you to think for ONE second that I would—“ Bulma thought it would be unwise to tell Vegeta the PURPOSE of the contest, it might not work if he KNEW that was what they were trying to do. “It will just be the three of us. Me, you and Goku—“ “Absolutely NOT,” Vegeta shouted. “I am NEVER going to—“ “Well, if you say so…” Bulma said, knowing she was about to get dangerously close to revealing the plan. “But, this is a REALLY good way for you to defeat Goku. I doubt HE can wait as long as you…” “Of COURSE he can’t!” Vegeta yelled. “Kakarot could never— That isn’t why I’m refusing!” “But, I guess if you won’t try, Goku wins by default, doesn’t he?” “Th—That’s not how it works, woman! You and I BOTH know that Kakarot couldn’t—“ “I THINK you’d win,” Bulma said. “I believe in you, but I’m not sure. Shouldn’t we check?” “I held it for TWO days a week ago,” Vegeta declared. “You honestly believe KAKAROT could do that?!” Ah… That was interesting. Suddenly, when he mentioned how long he’d waited, he made the announcement with pride. It wasn’t shame that leaked from those words anymore, it was instead a boastful acknowledgment that he’d done something no one else could. His way of thinking was being shifted just at the IDEA of besting Goku, actually DOING it might be a miracle cure! Bulma pushed further, “I don’t know, he IS pretty strong, isn’t he?” “He’s not THAT strong!” Vegeta insisted. “Just you watch!” * A few days later as he stared at a collection of large water pitchers laid out on the kitchen table, Vegeta wished he could go back and stop himself from agreeing to this. He’d merely suffered a moment of temporary insanity, and he shouldn’t be held responsible for anything he’d said during it. This was going to be humiliating. Bulma watching as he… Held it. Her KNOWING that he was holding it, that he was full, that any twitches or shifts in his posture had been prompted by his bladder. Worse yet, she was going to be WATCHING for all of those little motions, anticipating them, expecting them. There was only one solution; He would not allow himself to move at ALL. He wouldn’t even allow himself to tremble— The one thing he’d never been able to train his body out of. Today, he would do it. He would order himself to stay perfectly, absolutely still, and his body would comply. His bladder was going to learn to OBEY him if it was the last thing he ever did… What he really wanted was for someone ELSE to be… Observing them. Someone whom didn’t KNOW that Vegeta had something WRONG with him. Someone whom Vegeta didn’t have… all of those ‘feelings’ for, that made him even less willing than USUAL to show any vulnerability. He would have preferred… Maybe the green one? Piccolo had never NEEDED to piss, he wouldn’t even have a frame of reference for if Vegeta was twitching ‘too soon’ or not! And then, there was Kakarot… He was being his usual, annoyingly cheerful self about the whole thing. As if this were a normal competition to have, and it wasn’t even all that different from the things they USUALLY did together. Why had Kakarot agreed to do this, anyway?! He knew of the… Issue, he should have been able to figure out how uncomfortable this was! Instead, Kakarot just kept talking about how he’d been ‘trying to train his bladder’ so that Vegeta could have some good competition. It was like he’d FORGOTTEN how much more complicated this was for him. But, unless Kakarot had hit his head again, that didn’t seem possible. So then WHY— “Okay,” Bulma said. “You guys ready to start?” Vegeta would never be ready for ANYTHING that involved embarrassing himself in front of her… But, Kakarot answered for both of them; “Yep!” “Great, first let’s see which of you can drink the fastest,” Bulma said. Vegeta reluctant moved a hand towards one of the pitchers, hesitating. He NEVER drank this much, it was a bad idea. He could work through having a dry mouth, he could ignore it when his muscles cramped and just keep pushing past it, those things couldn’t stop him in the way a full bladder could. Kakarot, of course, grabbed a jug and started to guzzle it without a care. Chugging it down quickly. REALLY quickly, like he was showing off! He wanted Bulma to think he was superior to Vegeta even when it came to drinking water! ABSOLUTELY NOT. Vegeta reached for a pitcher and started to drink— MUCH faster than Kakarot could ever DREAM of! His eyes widened as the first few gulps went down his throat, it felt… It felt so good, erasing the ever-present, painfully scratching ache that he’d grown used to. It was the same feeling he’d had when Kakarot convinced him to drink out of the lake, something inside of him was snapping and becoming wholly focused on how much he wanted to quench his unyielding thirst. Vegeta knew full well that he never drank enough. He knew he was supposed to have around four liters of water a day— Probably even MORE considering how active he was— But he never got close to that. His bladder was subtly throbbing basically every second of every day, more fluid would ensure that he was splitting at the seams nonstop. He could live with a constant, low pressure. He couldn’t endure a near-eternity of bright hot, brilliant desperation. So, in addition to always kind of needing to pee, Vegeta was also perpetually thirsty. He was usually so disciplined about it too, he thought. He’d drink a little bit, then make himself stop no matter how much his body pleaded for more. It was rare that he lost control like this… He definitely HAD lost control, though. He finished the first pitcher in under half a minute— WAY before Kakarot finished with his even though he’d gotten a head-start! He’d had so much water, all of it now coursing through him, headed to a place that had no viable exit. He was still so thirsty… And, like Hell would he let Kakarot catch up to him! Vegeta reached for the second and drank that one as eagerly as he’d done the first. Why did his body need to get rid of water, anyway? If he never had to pee, he could drink as much as he wanted and not have to worry about it. Bladders were stupid, Saiyans should have evolved beyond them long ago. He finished the second pitcher faster than he had the first one, moving onto the third. He finally slowed down after that one, somewhat stunned by how different he felt. His throat wasn’t scratchy at all, his tongue wasn’t heavy, and the perpetual, subtle headache that he’d long ago learned to just live with had gone away. He was accustomed to always being at least partially dehydrated, it was surprising how different the alternative actually felt. If his body would just learn to actually cooperate with what came NEXT, he could get used to this. Bulma watched as Vegeta drank. He could definitely do THAT faster than Goku could, and it was giving Bulma pause, forcing her to think back over some of Vegeta’s other habits that she’d never paid much attention to before. He tended to really shy away from beverages, she’d noticed him scrutinizing the amount of liquid left in his water bottles before. She now knew that was him trying to guess the exact amount of fluid he’d put into himself. Other times, when he knew he’d be home for a while, he drank more like THIS, like he just couldn’t get enough. Because, ordinarily, he WASN’T getting enough. He was restricting his intake, and he was restricting it nearly all of the time, despite constantly engaging in activities that made him work up a sweat. It struck her then exactly how controlling this ‘problem’ of his actually was. It was constantly doing damage to his health. If all went according to plan here, Bulma’s next step needed to be teaching Vegeta to drink a decent amount of water. “Well,” Bulma said once all the bottles were empty. “Vegeta’s definitely the fastest drinker. I guess now we just have to wait.” Great… Time for the humiliation to commence. Vegeta had zero need to relieve himself yet, just the annoying hum in his bladder that was almost ALWAYS there and easily faded into the background. It was so subtle that he barely even recognized it as an urge to do anything. His stomach felt abnormally bloated, though. He was really full even though he hadn’t eaten anything. He didn’t think he’d EVER had that much water all at once before. Goku didn’t think HE’D ever drank that much before, either. His gut was aching a little, it felt heavy. He was nervous about how quickly all of that liquid would MOVE. If it all showed up in his bladder at once, this contest wouldn’t even last ten minutes… Goku wasn’t sure if he’d even be able to make it to a toilet before he lost in a far more embarrassing way. Him losing that quickly just wasn’t an option though. No matter how genuinely desperate Goku was, if Vegeta wasn’t struggling at least a little… His friend wouldn’t accept it as a victory. He’d be convinced that Goku had LET him win. There needed to be some degree of struggle to this for it to have any kind of positive affect on his confidence. Vegeta had just drank an abnormally large quantity of liquid too, so Goku doubted he’d manage to hold it in as long as he usually did. Still, with Vegeta’s normal limit apparently being around two full days, Goku knew to expect a LONG wait before Vegeta was at a point where it would be okay to stop. So, Goku resolved to simply NOT think about peeing for as long as he could. He would hasten his own desperation if he focused too much on it. Instead, he thought about fighting, and how he and Vegeta hadn’t been able to finish their last match since his friend had gotten so sick. He hoped Vegeta would be well enough to battle again soon, whatever virus he’d caught must have been terrible. Goku was glad to see that he WAS doing way better today. He wasn’t pale or sweaty anymore. Bulma must have given him good medicine. Goku hoped Vegeta hadn’t needed a shot— Those were so scary! He’d seen Vegeta get one of those before, and was amazed that his friend had managed not to scream. Vegeta was really brave like that, Goku wished he’d learn to be braver about his problem. Vegeta tried to keep himself as still as possible. He still didn’t feel any urgent need to go, but he was so wary of Bulma’s watchful eyes. She’d think any motion from him was due to his bladder being full. Stillness did not come naturally to him— To ANY Saiyan, really. They were always filled with energy, always running or fighting. Even in their sleep, it wasn’t unusual for them to flail a bit— Something Bulma often whined about. (“You know, it’s not exactly PLEASANT to be woken up at three AM by a foot in my shoulder, Vegeta!”) Vegeta’s legs often got this annoying, ticklish feeling just beneath the skin whenever he was still for too long. His body wanted him to move, and it usually wasn’t hard for him to find a way to do so with a PURPOSE. Sometimes, just running laps around Capsule Corp could burn off a little of the excess energy if he had nowhere else to exert it. He rarely allowed himself to deal with the tingling by bouncing his legs— He knew what that would LOOK like. It would REALLY look like that if he did it NOW. He had to stay perfectly, completely still. His hands were gripping the table in front of him, and he REALLY wanted to start tapping his fingers against it. Would that make it look like he had to pee? Even though he DIDN’T need it hardly at all? It probably would. He needed to be still. Very, very still. He didn’t even let himself scratch his neck when it began to itch. Goku was starting to feel it already. To his relief, it hadn’t all slammed into him at once, but it WAS getting bad, fast. It was enough that he needed to adjust his position every couple minutes, pressure building at an alarming rate. He knew enough just from experience to realize that drinking a whole bunch all at once made it move through his body faster, but he really wished it would slow down. Vegeta wasn’t moving at all, hadn’t even gotten that shuddery twitch he had when he was trying his best not to show any desperation. Goku had needed to go worse than this before. Both times he’d come back to life, he’d learned that some of his body’s processes would sort of ‘speed up’ to make up for all the lost time. Peeing was one of them— It was a bit like waking up from a long sleep. A REALLY long sleep. The first time he was brought back, he’d been dead for about a year. No one had actually WARNED him that he’d need to pee worse than he’d thought possible the instant his halo vanished. He hadn’t even been able to PROCESS it, to truly register ‘Man, I gotta PEE!’ before he suddenly just… Was. King Kai HAD been telling him to hurry back to Earth, but paused. “… Right, maybe I should have said something first.” Goku did his best to laugh it off. He was, after all, kind of just in shock that it was even happening. “Well, uh… Guess I technically haven’t gone in a year, right?” The next time, when he was brought back for the world tournament after being dead for SEVEN years, he knew what to expect. Before Baba resurrected him, he insisted on being in front of a tree first. A few seconds later, he honestly felt kind of bad about what he ended up doing to it. Of course, the times VEGETA had been brought back to life were more complica— Vegeta suddenly stood up, and Goku turned to look at him. He still wasn’t squirming, or shivering, or any of the other things Goku had learned indicated he had to pee. Goku was a bit disappointed by that, since his own bladder was starting to almost pinch at him a little. “Just sitting around is too boring,” Vegeta declared. “This is not a challenge. We need something to make this a little more interesting.” He wasn’t sure if this was the right decision. He knew it could backfire on him easily, he knew what he was about to propose could irritate his bladder. But… He just couldn’t handle sitting still anymore. He hadn’t trained at all today, he had more energy than he knew what to do with. Just moving to stand UP had quelled some of the annoying tingles in his legs. “Let’s…” he paused. He could think of PLENTY of exercises that were absolute Hell on the bladder. Everything he’d ever done to train, he’d had to try to do it while bursting at least once. Recalling how, in his lowest moments, simply trying to WALK was almost more pain than he could take, Vegeta had an idea. It would hopefully hasten Kakarot’s failure, AND keep Bulma’s eyes off of him for a little bit. Even if Bulma DID try to follow them, she had no way of keeping up. “Let’s race around the building,” Vegeta decided. Goku paused at that. If Vegeta was still kind of sick, then he really shouldn’t be running around… “What’s the matter, Kakarot?” Vegeta taunted. “Already aware that I’ll defeat you?” He looked alright enough… “You’re on,” Goku said, standing up as well and— Ohhh, oh WOW… That did NOT feel good! All the liquid in him just surged STRAIGHT down with the change in gravity, and for a terrifying second he thought he was about to LEAK before Vegeta had shown ANY signs of need whatsoever! He could just HEAR what Vegeta would say if he did that. “Stop holding back, Kakarot! Come at me with your full power!” Goku squirmed a little where he stood, hitching his hips and rubbing his knees together, bouncing. It wasn’t gonna be easy to run like this, he could already tell. His bladder sent a few irritated pangs, as if it was scolding him for even considering it. He noticed Vegeta turning away from him, face reddening a little. That was weird, HE wasn’t the one fidgeting around— As much as Goku wished he’d start. “Three, two, one, GO!” Vegeta counted off, and then immediately started to run out of sight. Goku jumped, rushing off as well. Vegeta ran down hall after hall. Kakarot was so embarrassing! They’d both only been holding it for around thirty minutes, and he was already starting to do that ridiculous dance! Kakarot had told him that his limit— pathetic as it may have been— was six hours. He should have far more stamina than what he was showing now, even if he HAD drank more than he usually did. Was Kakarot trying to exaggerate it for some reason? He wanted Vegeta to THINK he’d be quitting soon so that he’d let his guard down? Or he wasn’t going to tap into his full strength to spare Vegeta’s stupid ‘feelings’? No way could the idiot actually be desperate after so little time had passed. Vegeta didn’t even FEEL i— Wait… What the Hell? That hadn’t been there a second ago! Vegeta slowed slightly, suddenly aware of a sharp pressure that had seriously just snuck up on him. This was how he felt when he’d already been holding it for around half a day— When it was uncomfortable enough that, in the back of his mind, he was forced to accept that he needed to find some relief soon, otherwise there would inevitably be a great deal of pain in his future. And it hadn’t felt like that just a minute ago. The only other time where his need had come on that strongly and suddenly was when he had that… Humiliating illness. And that stupid thing was GONE. He knew he’d had a LOT of water, but it shouldn’t have done this THAT quickly… He was seriously starting to slow down, his irritated bladder protesting his every step. He… Really wanted to… Part of the reason he’d suggested this was so Bulma wouldn’t see him for a few minutes. He stopped, glancing back and forth down the hall to confirm that it was empty. Once he was sure he was alone, he leaned into the wall and allowed his legs to cross. Phew… That already felt a little better. He tensed his thighs, eyes still wide and on alert for witnesses. This was all the squirming he was going to allow himself today, so he needed to calm his bladder down now, had to do whatever it took while he still had this moment of privacy. While he didn’t think it was quite THAT urgent just yet, he did grant his hands permission to move between his legs for a few squeezes. That took a lot of the edge off, but he knew he was going to have to let go and straighten himself out again soon. Just… Not yet. He could sense Kakarot was still lagging behind, by quite an unusual margin. Vegeta could let himself fidget for at least another minute before he needed to worry about him catching up. * Goku was stunned to discover that running could actually be REALLY hard sometimes. The last time he’d really had to WORK at it was when he met King Kai for the first time and the gravity of his planet had been so extreme that Goku could barely move for a little bit. This was sort of a similar feeling. He felt heavier than he was used to, and he had to really focus and think about how he moved his legs. He’d made the mistake of going a bit too fast in his bid to catch up to Vegeta, and again he’d nearly spilled over a little. Taking it slow was the only way he could deal with it. Goku’s bladder was starting to physically hurt. It was NOTHING like what he’d experienced when he’d fused with Vegeta and had learned what his friend went through all the time, but it WAS painful enough to make him wince. If Vegeta didn’t start feeling it soon, Goku was no longer so sure if this plan would work, unless he cheated and used the restroom now with no one around to notice. Goku would never resort to underhanded tactics, even when the battle he was facing was so unlike any other he’d ever fought. The pressure in his body was doing its very best to tempt him, though. When he passed a bathroom, he forced himself to move a little faster just so that he wouldn’t accidentally give in. He reminded himself that this was all to help Vegeta, without him REALIZING that he was being helped. Goku would do anything for his friends, even hold his pee until it seriously hurt and he was worried that he’d actually explode. At that, he reminded himself that the only time Vegeta exploded hadn’t even INVOLVED his bladder. And, if Vegeta couldn’t fill up so much that he physically blew up, then that meant Goku definitely couldn’t. He just had to figure out how to hold this in a while longer. * Vegeta forced himself to stop squirming and start running again. He’d disgraced himself for long enough, and every passing second made it more likely that someone would come around the corner and witness it all unfolding. His bladder throbbed viciously when he let go of himself, and flared brighter when he untwisted his legs. When he made himself RUN, every time his foot hit the ground, his bladder boiled and fizzed, its walls aching. Steadfast, he ignored all of the discomforts and continued to move. He made it back to Bulma first, impressed with himself. Something had changed inside of him, fire occupying his chest rather than ice. He’d beaten Kakarot! He almost felt like he may have been sort of… Enjoying himself. He hoped Kakarot had not DELIBERATELY slowed his pace down for some reason. If there was one thing worse than LOSING to Kakarot, it was having Kakarot LET him win. And, he had a nagging suspicion Kakarot WAS doing that today. Even if Kakarot’s bladder was smaller and he’d failed to ever train it, he was still squirming way too much for it to be genuine in Vegeta’s eyes. If his limit was six hours, as he’d claimed, then he should still be FINE now. Aside from that, Kakarot’s actual limit was probably far greater than he believed it to be. Six hours was just when it started to hurt and he gave up because he was lacking in discipline. Kakarot was exaggerating his discomfort today, intending to go EASY on Vegeta because he knew of the ‘problem’. Regardless of the problem, a battle was a battle. Vegeta wouldn’t settle for anything less than Kakarot’s best. He thought this over in an attempt to distract himself from the urge to start squirming again. Bulma was RIGHT there, watching him. His skin prickled beneath her gaze. “Ha,” Vegeta said. “Kakarot must be slacking, he’s losing his speed. I could even run a second lap before he gets back!” “I’m sure you could…” Bulma said, glancing him over. The ‘race’ seemed to have done him some good, there was a fire back in his eyes that had been absent ever since his sickness had appeared. He was feeling that thrill of competition again, which was exactly what she’d been hoping for. This might really work. It took Bulma a few seconds to notice the other thing he was displaying. She’d come to realize that Vegeta was quite good at hiding his need up until a certain point— That when he DID start to visibly squirm in her presence, that meant his desperation was unimaginably severe. But, there were other, far more subtle, signs that cropped up faster. Signs which she only learned to recognize when tending to him while he was sick. The small shivers working up and down his back had nothing to do with him feeling cold. The water was hitting him. It had taken a surprisingly long time for it do so, and she was stunned he was able to restrain himself to such tiny, barely noticeable twitches after the amount he’d had to drink. “What are you looking at?” Vegeta demanded, turning away slightly. He could feel his shoulders shaking, and he couldn’t get them to stop! The pressure in his middle was deeply uncomfortable, and it was building way faster than what he was accustomed to. His body just kept getting tenser as he tried not to squirm against himself, and the shakes worsened in response. He tried to relax his muscles a little, and— Um… Wait… Er… Maybe— Vegeta realized he didn’t actually know how to do that. ‘Relaxation’ was not a technique that was ever taught on his planet, he had no idea where he was supposed to concentrate his chi in order to ‘relax’. If he hadn’t seen Kakarot look relaxed before, he would have assumed Saiyans were just incapable of it. But, obviously, Kakarot had undergone some form of training that Vegeta had never had access to, that was the only way he could have mastered— Kakarot finally caught up… And he did NOT appear to be relaxed at all. His knees were rubbing together, causing him to walk very slowly. His ankles occasionally hooked together, his breathing was ragged, and one hand was caught between his legs. Vegeta frowned. He’d been right. Kakarot was exaggerating. Kakarot was trying to go easy on him, and just HAND him the win. Vegeta knew he WOULD win, but if Kakarot wasn’t even going to give him a challenge, then what did it matter?! “Kakarot,” Vegeta scoffed upon seeing him. He turned a bit faster than he’d intended to, sloshing his bladder’s contents and prompting his thighs to clench for a second. Pressure pushed right up against his opening and he clenched his fists, swinging them agitatedly by his side. “Stop holding back.” Goku looked at his friend, being partially flooded with relief when he noticed that Vegeta was a little shaky. He finally DID need to go somewhat badly, but still not enough for this to be a challenge. A little while longer… Maybe Goku could… Well, trying to run had certainly sped up his OWN desperation. There must have been something that would work on Vegeta, too. The last time Goku had almost wet himself, it was thanks to Goten saying something that had made him laugh just a bit too hard. He just had to make Vegeta laugh. Now, what did Vegeta find funny? The misfortune of others! Goku’s bladder was making him pretty miserable right now. “I— I’d love to stop holding back,” Goku said. “But Bulma’s gonna get mad if I mess up the floor.” Vegeta didn’t laugh… Instead, he glared. “Bulma isn’t the only one who will be angry with you for that, Kakarot. Don’t even think about—“ “I—It was a joke,” Goku said. “I— Ahh— I really need to go, Vegeta.” “It hasn’t even been a full hour,” Vegeta said. “There is no way you’re this bad off already. If you aren’t using your full strength, then this game of yours is both juvenile AND pointless.” Goku WAS using his full strength… As much of it as he was able to, anyway. He knew he COULD squeeze himself tighter than he was now, but if he did that for too long then Chi-Chi would have a reason to be angry with him! “I, uh, I kinda AM trying my be—“ “Impossible. You told me your limit was six hours.” “That’s only if I don’t drink half my weight in water in under ten minutes!” “If I’m still fine, then YOU should only be a little uncomfortable!” Bulma watched this unfold in confusion. Vegeta was annoyed because he was winning?! He seriously didn’t think it was at all reasonable for Goku to be desperate after guzzling four liters of water about an hour ago? Duh. Of course he didn’t. His perception of how a bladder was SUPPOSED to work was likely warped beyond repair. When Vegeta ‘barely needed to go’ his stream lasted at least two minutes. He was convinced that going once in the morning and once at night was standard, and that it only REALLY got bad after about a day. He’d somehow trained himself to numb out his desperation until it became extreme. She was positive that whatever level of need he was currently experiencing would be blinding to anyone else, but he was so utterly USED to it that it didn’t properly faze him. And with Goku being the only other full-blooded Saiyan still alive, of course he was expecting a more even match. In his mind, even if Goku had a naturally smaller bladder, he should still be capable of more than this. Bulma knew with certainty that this plan wouldn’t work unless Vegeta was sure Goku had tried his best, and now hoped Goku somehow found it in himself to hold off longer than he ever had before. An idea struck her then, some way to even the playing field.“Well, Vegeta,” she said. “You sure sound confident. If this is too easy for you, maybe you should have a bit more to drink.” “If Kakarot’s not drinking, then I’m not,” Vegeta stated, his shivers increasing for a second, it looked like the idea of putting more liquid into himself may have been intimidating. Goku looked at Bulma warily. He had to pee so bad, and it was getting worse with every second! He was holding himself with BOTH hands now, and his bladder kept lurching and surging downwards. Twice so far, he’d felt a panicked burst of fluid trying to seep out past his clenched hold. If he drank any more, then he really WOULD pee on the floor. He didn’t have much space left, and he knew that more water was probably still on the way, and Vegeta was barely fidgeting, and— “You’re the one complaining about it being easy, Vegeta,” Bulma said. “Besides… Wouldn’t it be something if you beat Goku even after you’ve had more water than him?” “I— I can handle TWICE as much water as Kakarot!” Vegeta responded, voice firm. “Well, maybe not THAT much extra,” Bulma said. “Just a little… Wait here.” She walked off, grateful that, for as stubborn as Vegeta WAS, he was still quite easy to manipulate. As Bulma left, Goku sat down at the table and crossed his legs together, rubbing them frantically. He did not dare let go of himself. If he didn’t still remember what he’d experienced while fused with Vegeta, he’d think that this was the worst need to pee anyone had ever experienced. It was only BECAUSE of that memory that Goku was able to keep straining and waiting. He’d managed to keep all THAT at bay, hadn’t he? True, he was sure Vegeta had done most of the work there, but still! He hadn’t wet himself then, so he could hold it now! He had to, he had literally no choice. This was the right thing to do. If this worked, and he managed to set Vegeta free from his perpetual desperation, ensured that he never had to feel that terrible again, then it would be worth it. It would be worth all the discomfort, all the bloating, all the heart-thumping panic as he focused himself entirely on just holding it in. He could barely think, mind only able to process the simple order of ‘Don’t pee! Don’t pee! Don’t pee!’ Vegeta was sitting beside him now, his fingers tapping against the table as he shook, redness darkening his cheeks. It was weird how embarrassed Vegeta got when he was barely even squirming. Goku was doubling over and fidgeting in all directions and HE didn’t feel embarrassed at all. He just felt determined, and uncomfortable, and stretched out. His stomach hurt like it did when he ate too much, and he was having a difficult time seeing straight. Sweat kept getting into his eyes, but he couldn’t move his hands to wipe them. The weirdest part was that the pressure wasn’t confined just to his bladder area like it always had been before. It was sort of… moving. It was spreading out. Vegeta was trying very hard not to watch Kakarot squirm. It irritated him that the other Saiyan was going easy on him, and… And looking at Kakarot crossing his legs back and forth like that kind of… It made him think about how good it would feel to do that himself again. His toes curled in his boots, and he tapped the table a little more frantically for a second. He did NOT need to cross his legs, or— Or hold himself, or perform any of the OTHER disgraceful actions Kakarot was partaking in! His need was just… It was as though his body was moving in fast-forward. His bladder was thrashing more strongly than it had been even just a few minutes ago, pressure was knocking violently against his flood-gates, and he sort of did WANT to cross his legs, but he didn’t NEED to. He was fine. He was not going to behave as childishly as Kakarot was, he wouldn’t allow it. Bulma returned and set a glass down in front of Vegeta. It was filled with something that obviously WASN’T water. “What’s this?” He demanded. “We ran out of water,” Bulma told him. “I brought you some tea.” “How did we run out of water?! It comes out of the sink!” “Sink’s broken.” “Since when?!” “Just drink the tea, Vegeta.” “What’s in it?” “Taste it and find out,” Bulma suggested. Vegeta grumbled to himself as he picked up the glass. It tasted fine, he supposed. Beside him Kakarot winced and tapped his feet harshly against the floor. “Ahhh, Vegeta? Do you HAVE to swallow so loud?!” Vegeta paused, taking the half full glass away from his lips. “Oh, I’m sorry, Kakarot,” he said. He shook the glass as gently as he could, trying not to spill it, trying to just make it slosh. “Does this bother you?” He returned to drinking, making sure to take extra noisy gulps just to make Kakarot squirm. He set the empty glass back down on the table. “There,” he said. “I’m sure I could handle anoth—“ “Oh, no…” Bulma grabbed the glass and turned away. “Just one is plenty. I’m pretty sure that’s all we had left.” “Feh,” Vegeta said. “Well, it’s still more than Kakarot.” He turned back to his rival, watching him wriggle and writhe. Kakarot’s face was lighter than usual, and Vegeta started to wonder if he wasn’t actually exaggerating after all. It would be tough to fake turning pale, or the sweat rolling down his neck. Not that it mattered, he expected Kakarot to fight this until the last possible second. He wouldn’t have this any other way. Goku was glad Bulma hadn’t made HIM drink any tea. He didn’t think he could fit one more drop into himself without having an accident. He constantly felt like he was on the verge of leaking. He wasn’t even sure if he hadn’t already STARTED. His palms felt wet where they were clasping his groin, and he couldn’t tell if that was sweat or pee that he hadn’t been able to keep from seeping out. He doubled forwards a bit, clutching himself as tight as he could before it started to hurt. He felt really, really weird. It was starting to feel less like he needed to go to the bathroom super badly and more like he was injured. The pain had continued to creep upwards in his body, startling him. Ordinarily, when he needed to pee, he only felt it one spot, but now the pressure was heading into his back, confusing him. When he’d been fused with Vegeta, he’d felt a scorching pain in his back that had nearly made him delirious. This didn’t feel exactly the same, but was it going to turn INTO that? Goku never wanted to experience that again! A second later, he felt a pulse of warmth and knew that he HAD sprung a leak. He squeezed away at himself and cut it off, but now his bladder wanted to push out the rest and it was cramping more violently than ever. He was having a more difficult time paying attention to Vegeta. He was getting kind of dizzy, so it was hard to focus on any one thing. Goku could see his knees moving back and forth a little, nowhere near as franticly as his own were, but he was finally showing— “Nnnh!” Vegeta released a strangled sound and his eyes blew wide open. Goku watched him in confusion, scared that he’d suddenly started experiencing that horrific back pain again. He wasn’t THAT full yet, was h— “W—Woman!” Vegeta snapped. His hands started to flutter around, moving first back to the table, then down to his lap, before he pulled them away like he’d burned them. “What did you put in that tea?!” “What do you mean, Vegeta?” Bulma asked. “I’m sure you know precisely what I mean!” Vegeta yelled. He sounded absolutely FURIOUS, and Goku couldn’t figure out why. One of Vegeta’s knees started to bounce jerkily, before his legs crossed and his ankles hooked together. “Wh—What did you—“ “Just normal tea ingredients,” Bulma said. “Nettle leaves, dandelion root, parsley…” She listed off. She didn’t THINK Vegeta knew enough about Earth’s plants to be aware that all of those ingredients were diuretics. He was clearly feeling the effects, though. The look on his face a few seconds ago had been rather amusing, just this sudden expression of total, abject panic. That should be enough to make him more even with Goku. Hopefully she hadn’t overdone it. “So, it wasn’t poisoned?” Vegeta demanded. “Poisoned?! What? No! I wouldn’t do that!” Vegeta knew SOMETHING shady must have been in that glass. He was suddenly so… He needed— He felt like he was going to burst! Just, out of nowhere there had been this huge wave of desperation and it still wasn’t subsiding! It was just getting worse, a PAINFUL desire to release his waters that refused to be ignored for anything. “H—ahh—“ He let his knees rub together. It didn’t help. He crossed his legs. It still hurt so bad! He leaned backward a little, trying to grant his bladder more room. He was going to DIE if he didn’t void soon! His bladder spasmed with a sharp, rippling pang and he inhaled sharply, hands moving to his crotch without his command, taking hold and squeezing. ‘No, no, no! Stop that!’ He ordered himself. ‘That’s disgraceful, knock it off!’ His hands wouldn’t obey, and his bladder was actually somewhat SOOTHED finally, so he just inched himself closer to the table and hoped it worked to shield his hands from Bulma’s view. It certainly didn’t shield them from Goku’s view, and he was SO relieved when he saw Vegeta starting to hold himself. Just a few more minutes, and he was sure it would be enough. Finally, finally… Goku really couldn’t take this any longer! The weird pangs were still moving up through his back, he was VERY wary of what they might lead to, and he’d felt himself leak three more times. “V—Vegeta? H—How much longer?” ‘Please not more than ten minutes…’ Vegeta thought, trying to blink away the sweat that was burning his eyes. “I don’t know, Kakarot,” he said, struggling to put real force into his voice around the heavy feeling in his bladder. “You tell me. I’m certainly in no hurry to wrap this up.” His bladder flared and his ankles rubbed. He was never drinking that tea again. He must have been allergic to something in it, that had to be it. He was deathly allergic, and his body was trying to purge all of it as fast as it could. He would not lose to Kakarot, certainly not with THIS. The only good part of his problem was that… That it meant there was a part of him that would always be stronger than Kakarot! That there was ONE thing he could always defeat him at! His bladder was strong thanks to a weakness, true. But if, through that, he could best Kakarot at something, then his problem didn’t need to ONLY be a source of shame. It could also be— “Gah—Hah—“ Goku released a startled yelp when he… He felt it, that same scorching, awful sensation beneath his ribs that he’d only ever experienced when sharing a bladder with Vegeta. At the same time, more dribbles of pee were managing to escape his hold and soak into his clothing. He squeezed away at himself, but it was doing no good, and Vegeta— Vegeta WAS struggling now, he hadn’t been struggling for very LONG, but— Ahhhh, Goku’s back hurt so bad! How did Vegeta put up with this all the time?! Goku gingerly tried to get to his feet, bending forwards and shaking as he struggled. Vegeta watched Kakarot fighting to stand up. His own need was still blaring away inside him, his bladder’s screams for relief getting louder with each second. He was less alarmed by the severity of his desperation than he was by the suddenness of it. It wasn’t supposed to ramp up this quickly, and he could feel it getting rapidly worse! Kakarot had gotten up, he’d gotten up for a reason, Vegeta hoped it was for THE reason, or else he might— “Q—Quitting so soon, Kakarot?” He asked. “Realized that you can’t even hope to match up to an elite like m—“ “Ahh— Y—You win, Vegeta!” Goku exclaimed, hopping back and forth between his feet. “Gah, it’s gonna come out! Bulma, where’s the nearest—“ Bulma watched Goku scrambling with some trepidation. The floor was in intense and immediate danger. “Goku, you come here all the ti—“ “I can’t remember!” “That way…” Bulma pointed off. Goku rushed in that direction as quickly as he could, stumbling slightly as his bladder flared and another warm jet of liquid shot out. That leak had been far longer than the previous ones, he was sure it had left a mark, and he couldn’t hold it one more minute! “O—Oh, right! I can teleport!” He said. “Bulma go stand by the door!” “It’s just a two minute wal—“ “Hurry!” “Okay, okay…” Bulma said, walking off. A moment later, Vegeta watched as Kakarot put two fingers to his forehead and shut his eyes. He anticipated the other Saiyan disappearing, making Vegeta’s victory official and ensuring that he could take care of his own issue soon. But, Kakarot stayed where he was. “Nnnnh, I can’t— It’s not WORKING!” He rushed off. And Vegeta was alone. No one around to see him if he were to— He turned about in his seat and finally stood up, cringing and jumping in place. He could not BELIEVE his desire to void had amplified this quickly! He felt like he’d already been holding it in for more than a day! He crossed his ankles extra tightly and continued to bounce, reaching both hands between his legs to grip himself. He squeezed his eyes closed, trying not to make any sounds of misery. What little energy he didn’t need to allocate to the task of holding it in he put towards keeping tabs on Bulma and Kakarot’s chi. He knew that, once he sensed them moving closer, he would need to straighten out completely and behave like he WASN’T extremely eager to relieve himself. He’d… Beaten Kakarot. He’d really done it. If Kakarot was so desperate that he could no longer access his instant transmission ability, then that really HAD been the best he could do. And, naturally, it had been far from enough to best the mighty Veget— “Hah—“ Vegeta doubled over, a flare-up of heat moving partway down his length. He— He didn’t leak, he wouldn’t— He tightened his grip on himself, legs squeezing more urgently, and slowly the feeling faded. Kakarot needed to hurry up… * Goku was trying to pee as fast as he could. Doubtless, Vegeta wouldn’t TRULY consider the contest finished until Goku himself was. And Vegeta was really, REALLY uncomfortable. Goku wasn’t sure what exactly had happened, but somehow his friend had managed to fill up way faster than usual. The final few minutes of the contest had been startling, he’d never seen Vegeta go from ‘slightly fidgety’ to ‘panicked desperation’ that quickly before. Goku was also sure peeing had never felt THIS good to him before. Except, maybe for the time when he’d fused with Vegeta. He was panting and sighing, and he almost WANTED it to continue on for longer. But, he forced himself not to slow down. He managed to get done in just over a minute, feeling immensely better. And… Sort of impressed in a way. He hadn’t realized he could hold so much. He’d never put that amount of energy towards managing his bladder before, had never focused himself entirely on that simple task. He’d gone beyond what he’d thought his limit was and made it out dr— He looked down at himself, seeing a dark spot over his crotch. He’d leaked a ton… Well. He’d made it out MOSTLY dry, anyway. Hopefully this resolved Vegeta’s problem, and Goku would never have to do anything like it again. But, if he DID, at least now he knew that he COULD. When he and Bulma returned to the dining room, they found Vegeta standing ramrod straight and shivering all over. His fists were clenched, his knees were touching, and his eyes were wide. He looked so ridiculously tense that it was making Goku feel sore just watching him. “Vegeta, if you need to move arou—“ “Th—There you have it, K—Kakarot,” Vegeta gritted out. His jaw was wound so tight that it spasmed as he tried to speak. “One arena in which y—you can never d—defeat me!” Would this work even better if Goku praised him? That DID help him pee when he was locked up… “Yeah, Vegeta,” Goku said. “You have me MORE than beat here! I don’t know how you do it!” That last part was VERY true, Goku had no clue how Vegeta endured those back pains without just trying to claw himself open to pry it out. “I—It t—took years of training,” Vegeta said, one leg crossing over the other, seemingly without his notice. “Y—You wouldn’t be able to h—handle it.” Goku didn’t doubt that. The years of ‘training’ Vegeta was referring to could only be countless miserable episodes of desperation that he could never resolve without a lot of hard work. “I don’t think I could,” Goku said. He was beginning to wonder if Vegeta even realized that he was allowed to go now… “Of course y—you can’t,” Vegeta agreed. His legs uncrossed and he started to rock on his heels instead. “It t—takes a l—lot of discipline to r—reach this point.” “I’m sure it did,” Goku said. “You must be really strong to have gone through all that.” An odd look passed over Vegeta’s face for a second, his eyes went even wider and he inhaled sharply. “You’re much stronger than your bladder,” Goku added, hoping he hadn’t screwed this whole thing up somehow. “I— Y—Yes,” Vegeta said, wriggling much more obviously as his hands moved towards his crotch. “N—Now, I— Have to— T—Tend to… Things.” And with that, he hurried off. He was walking oddly, without letting his knees bend. Goku turned to Bulma once he was sure Vegeta was far enough away. “Think that did anything for him?” “I hope so,” Bulma said. “He was kinda reluctant to actually GO. But… I guess I should have expected him to stroke his ego a little first. If I was trapped in a burning building, he’d probably take a minute to talk about how great he is before actually saving me.” * Vegeta rushed through the halls, hands between his legs trying to force his opening shut. His heart thundered loudly in his ears. A moment ago, he’d leaked. He’d actually fucking leaked in front of Kakarot again— Worse, he’d leaked in front of BULMA. Neither of them seemed to have noticed it, but HE’D noticed it! He’d felt warmth spurting out of him, and he’d felt it CONTINUE for almost two entire seconds before he was able to make it stop! Just— The second Kakarot had told him that he was— Fuck. That was the sort of thing Kakarot always said to him when he was struggling to go. That stupid, irritating little encouragement that always worked so infuriatingly well! Bad enough that something so patronizing and embarrassing actually WORKED on him, now it seemed like Kakarot had TRAINED him to always react to it! Did this mean that ANY time someone praised him enough, he’d piss? Regardless of if he wanted to or not? Vegeta… REALLY liked to hear people talk about how amazing he was. It was one of his favorite things. When Bulma did it specifically, he always got so— Well. If hearing that type of thing was going to mess with his bladder control, that was going to cause a LOT of problems. Hopefully it had only happened THIS time because of how very… insistent his need was. That was another thing, why the Hell did he have to go this badly so soon? He knew he’d drank way more than usual, but still. The only other time he’d been hit with such a sudden wave of desperation was when he was sick! Fuck, what if the infection was back?! He made it to his and Bulma’s bedroom and walked through it to reach the restroom. At least he’d defeated Kakarot, anyway. As he lifted the seat on the toilet, he tried to focus just on THAT. His body was being… Weird, but it had won out over Kakarot’s, and THAT was what truly mattered. Vegeta aimed and clenched his eyes closed, holding his breath and pushing down on his muscles. As he strained, he again wondered how exactly one was meant to ‘relax’. Since he’d never managed to figure it out, he was sure the technique was very complicated and took a lot of training. It probably required at least a few months of work to really master it. He finally started to go, dribbling at first but then he was able to build up to an actual stream a lot faster than usual. To his immense relief, it wasn’t burning him. The infection HADN’T come back, which meant he probably WAS just allergic to something in the tea. He just wouldn’t ever have it again. Voiding after defeating Kakarot at something actually felt WAY better than voiding usually did. And since it usually felt INCREDIBLE to actually go after holding it in for ages, that was saying a lot. He peed for several minutes, which he was actually sort of glad about. He had bladder had been full enough to justify the amount of discomfort he’d been in, unlike how his body had behaved when he’d been sick. He still couldn’t understand why he had filled to the brim so quickly, even WITH all the water, but at least he didn’t have to worry that his bladder was somehow getting smaller. Clearly, it was way, WAY larger than Kakarot’s, and that mattered more than ANYTHING. His bladder being bigger and stronger than Kakarot’s was even more important than how often it refused to obey his commands. His problem was a miserable, horrid, humiliating thing, but it had left him with something Kakarot couldn’t beat. So, that meant that it wasn’t JUST a weakness. Or JUST a strength. It was both. That was very confusing, but it was certainly better than ONLY being able to feel the failure any time something reminded him of it. *** “Bulma, that was sort of mean,” Kakarot was saying as Vegeta approached the dining room. “Hey, he kept saying you were going too easy on him,” Bulma replied. “You know how he prefers a challenge.” “I do, but…” “What are you talking about?” Vegeta demanded. “Oh, uh… Hey, Vegeta,” Bulma said nervously. “Nothing…” “Bulma, I think you should tell him,” Kakarot said, and when Bulma didn’t speak up, he added; “Vegeta, the tea you drank had… Um….” He furrowed his brow. “It was a dietetic.” “So, it was nutritional?” “Um, no, it was… Uh… Dia— Dialect— No, that’s not it… Um… Diur…“ Vegeta sighed. “Take your time…” “He’s trying to say diuretic,” Bulma informed, finally. She HOPED that word wasn’t a part of Vegeta’s vocabulary. It was, though. “What?!” “You wanted a challenge!” Bulma defended herself. “So, I gave you one!” Okay… Okay… That explained why his bladder had acted strangely. There wasn’t anything wrong with him. The woman had just decided to poison h— Wait. Vegeta smirked. “What do you think of THAT, Kakarot? I defeated you even after having more to drink AND consuming something specifically designed to increase my difficulty! Imagine how badly I would have beaten you had we been evenly matched!” Bulma tried not to smile. She’d boosted his ego— Something she usually tried her best NOT to do— and hopefully that meant he’d start getting better.
There was some noticeable improvement after that. Vegeta was able to relieve himself if Bulma was in the adjacent room again, and he did not require her to say anything ‘encouraging’ to him first. He was back on the right path again, recovered from the intense blow to his ego the sickness had given him. It had NOT been the perfect, sudden miracle cure Bulma had allowed herself to HOPE for. Vegeta was not suddenly healed completely and capable of urinating whenever and wherever he wanted. He was still struggling a lot. Bulma and Goku remained the only two people he was reliably able to go around. Sometimes he could manage it near Trunks, but less often. The most noticeable change was that he was somewhat less reluctant to ADMIT that he had to pee. That wasn’t saying MUCH since, less than a week ago, he would have rather died than confess he HAD a bladder to begin with, but it did indicate he had gained a little bit of confidence. In the past, Vegeta would be out with Bulma for several hours, then randomly stop whatever he was doing and say “I’m flying home now for… Reasons…” and just leave. Bulma could always GUESS what the ‘reasons’ were. Now he was willing to actually SAY why he was leaving some of the time. “I… Uh… Going to relieve myself, bye.” It was blatantly obvious how much EFFORT it took from him to get those words out, but he was finally capable of it. Bulma was also getting him to hydrate himself a little better. So far, she was only able to talk him into having some extra water when he knew he’d be remaining at home for the foreseeable future, which was still an improvement from before. She’d suggested to him that he should try drinking three liters of water per day and, so long as he wasn’t going out for too long, he generally accomplished that. The only problem was that Vegeta seemed MOST willing to drink in the evening, right before bed. So, he saved the majority of the water until then. Obviously, he didn’t often have a reason to get up and leave in the middle of the night, ensuring that he’d have an easy time getting rid of all the fluid later. But, getting most of the day’s hydration in just before he headed to sleep always seemed like a recipe for disaster to Bulma. He never responded well when she asked him if he was SURE that was the best idea. “YOU’RE the one who wants me to drink more, woman,” Vegeta told her. “It’s easiest for me to… Get relief during the night. You know that.” Bulma never mentioned what she worried might HAPPEN to Vegeta if he ever made the mistake of sleeping a little too deeply. He was guaranteed to get flustered and angry at the suggestion. It was possible he might even do something patently ridiculous, like drink even MORE just to ‘prove’ to Bulma that he could never wet the bed. Luckily, he HADN’T done that yet. Bulma had no idea what she would even DO if that ever happened, and kept thinking that she needed to ‘prepare’ for it. It just seemed… Inevitable unless she could convince him to adopt a more reasonable hydration schedule. Vegeta, of course, didn’t think there was anything wrong with what he was doing. He had to admit that he genuinely DID feel a lot stronger now that he was drinking more. He was ABLE to easily fight past any muscle cramps that his dehydration caused to crop up, but it was nice not to have to deal with them anymore. He thought he’d gotten slightly faster as a result, no more half-second pauses when one of his knees decided to knot up on itself. He knew he was getting a lot better, able to push himself further than before just because of a little extra water. Plus, sometimes he was STARTING his training earlier in the day than usual, thanks to his body now having a sort of built-in alarm clock— One that was a lot more reliable than the one on the nightstand. Sometimes, Vegeta slept through that one. Other times, it took him a second to actually wake up and remember what that irritating sound actually was, prompting him to just smack the Hell out of it to make it stop. That always sparked an argument with Bulma. “This is the sixtieth alarm clock you’ve broken, Vegeta! The people at the store are gonna think I have some weird addiction if I keep buying more!” Vegeta’s NEW alarm clock was different. He always recognized what it was, and that it was telling him to get up. And, if it happened to go off close to when he’d be starting his day anyway, sometimes that meant an extra half hour of training. His bladder did a spectacular job of waking him right up, no matter how deeply he’d been asleep. The only really irritating things were the new dreams Vegeta had been having lately. Of course, his bladder and a surplus of watery imagery had taken center-stage in his dreams before— He’d gone to sleep while ALREADY desperate enough times to have gotten well acquainted with those— But, now they occurred nearly EVERY night and some of them got… Intense. In one, there was a heavy rain-storm that he couldn’t escape from no matter how far he flew. In another, he was trapped in a small room with Kakarot, sealed by a door that neither of them could break through for some reason, all while Kakarot kept trying to coax him into just going in the corner. In one of the worst ones, he finally managed to break the lock to the restroom and was unable to relieve himself until Bulma replaced it. He always woke from these in a state of absolute, urgent desperation. Often, he’d find that he’d begun to hold himself in his sleep— sometimes with BOTH hands. Bulma would usually still be asleep, allowing him to stumble to the restroom in whatever humiliating hobble his bladder chose to force on him. He’d go, check the time and determine if he was ready to begin training for the day. So, it wasn’t THAT bad. His dreams were annoying, but they were JUST dreams. He woke up bursting every day, but he could resolve it easily. He always had to go badly enough that it made him walk funny, but Bulma wasn’t up to SEE it. And he was finally decently hydrated. It was all working out fine. Until, one morning, it didn’t. Vegeta had woken from an absolutely Hellish dream. His traitorous mind had decided to pull out all the stops, taunt his bladder as much as it possibly could. It hadn’t stopped at just tormenting his bladder, either. It had seen fit to twist his stupid ‘feelings’ a little as well. In the dream, he’d just finished one of the longest, most intense battles of his life. He’d been victorious— Naturally. HE’D defeated a foe that had utterly DECIMATED Kakarot, and Kakarot had told him, “Wow, Vegeta. You really saved us! We would have been toast without you!” Yes, he’d won. He was the greatest. Ever. Except… He’d also gotten SERIOUSLY injured, plenty of broken bones, and he was totally exhausted. Kakarot said they’d run out of senzu beans, so that meant Vegeta would have to recover the NORMAL way. Which wasn’t too awful at first. As much as he hated staying in bed, the fact that he’d beaten someone that Kakarot hadn’t been able to handle made him think it would be alright to take some time off. He wasn’t even that frustrated by Bulma frequently checking in on him. It wasn’t until she suggested that he might like something ‘soothing’ while he healed up that problems began to arise. She’d put on a video displaying various bodies of flowing water, and then had him listen to rain sounds as well. When it started to ACTUALLY rain outside, Vegeta suddenly became aware of a painful urge to relieve himself. Both of his legs were broken in multiple places. His feet were destroyed as well. He’d walked on busted feet before, it hurt like crazy, but wasn’t impossible. Issue was, he always made his injuries worse when he did things like that. Bulma would be none too pleased with him, and he’d extend the amount of time he needed to wait to resume his training. But, he REALLY needed to go. He could hold it for a super long time, surely longer than anyone else, but Bulma had told him his legs would take weeks to heal. Not even HE could hold it in for weeks. What could he do, though? He couldn’t walk to the toilet. When he glanced around himself, there was nothing in his immediate vicinity that he could use, nor would he have any place to stash the ‘evidence’ when Bulma returned. There was a water bottle which Bulma had made him empty earlier, but he could tell just by looking at it that he’d overflow it before he even made a dent in his desperation. Bulma kept coming back, kept asking if he needed anything, if he was hungry, if he was thirsty… He denied the second thing vehemently. One more drop, and he’d die from the pressure! Bulma left him alone once more. The rainstorm outside kept getting louder, hissing violently, and Vegeta could see the door to the restroom, and— And maybe he could fly there? If his feet didn’t touch the ground, if they didn’t need to support his weight, then he wouldn’t damage them any further, right? He gave that a try, but his body was so shattered that he couldn’t gather his chi correctly. Bulma returned. “Vegeta, you look uncomfortable,” she said immediately. “I broke most of my bones,” Vegeta reminded. “Why the Hell WOULD I be comfortable?!” “You look more uncomfortable than usual,” Bulma said. “Are you sure there isn’t something you need help with?” Fuck no. Vegeta had been AWARE of the only real solution to his problem for a while now. But having Bulma assist him with… He would RATHER explode! “N—Nothing!” “Are you sure?” Bulma asked. “Because, if there’s ANYTHING you need— anything at all—“ “There isn’t— I’m— I’m fine!” “Okay,” Bulma said skeptically. When she left, all Vegeta could focus on were the water videos, the rain sounds, the agonizingly intense need to void. She came back twice more to ask if he wanted anything, and he denied it both times, the feeling of urgency in his lower stomach was begging him to admit to his struggle, though. Bulma left him alone for a VERY long time then. So long, that Vegeta started to grip himself tightly with the one hand that WASN’T broken. It was all he could do to alleviate the pressure. He couldn’t squirm his legs around, they were too thoroughly destroyed for that! Sweat beaded on his brow, and suddenly THIS fight felt even more difficult than the one that had CAUSED all his injuries. Bulma FINALLY came back, and Vegeta was hardly aware of what he was doing when he blurted out, “Woman, I’m going to burst! I have to relieve myself immediately!” As soon as those words were out, humiliation washed over him. He lost control of his mouth often, but never THAT badly! He sounded pathetic! He was BEGGING for a toilet break, just like he had when— Panicking, he tried to parse Bulma’s reaction, but before he could get a good look at her face, he finally woke up. He was immensely grateful that that had only been a dream— He hadn’t ACTUALLY embarrassed himself so severely— but the relief only lasted for a second. He was BEYOND desperate, the need was even worse now than it had been during his dream. Both his hands were wedged between his thighs, and his legs were bunched up in the sheets as they twisted and turned. A dull throb was forming in his lower back— He was close to the extreme pain he’d come to loathe so much! Why hadn’t his bladder woken him up earlier?! The pulsing it was doing now felt almost lethal in its intensity. ‘Get up, get up!’ Vegeta ordered himself, trying not to feel TOO ashamed by how difficult the simple task was to accomplish. He couldn’t move his hands for the life of him, and once he was upright, the needful surges scorched downwards and made him jiggle on his feet for a moment. Mind clouded by urgent need, he hurried to the restroom as quickly as he could. Gah, he’d thought his speed had been improving before? He wasn’t seeing ANY of that now! If his strides were too long, he’d burst! He had to take tiny steps. At last, he reached the door, barely cognizant of the noise taking place beyond it. He was about to yank it open when he noticed the light shining beneath it. Fuck. His eyes darted to the nightstand. It was later in the morning than he’d thought. He’d slept through not just his bladder’s tyrannical throbbing, but the alarm clock as well. And Bulma was showering. She could sometimes take a WHILE in there. ‘Patience’, much like ‘relaxation’, was a technique Vegeta had never learned. When he wanted to get something done, he wanted it done right THEN. Waiting for someone else was aggravating. Especially now, when he seriously had to— It wasn’t like that was the only restroom in the building. There were tons of other ones, and he knew he could actually USE a couple of them with only minimal straining. But, at this hour, plenty of Capsule Corp’s employees would certainly be wandering around, able to… see him. He was still holding himself. He hadn’t seen a reason to let go when there weren’t any witnesses and it was helping to quell his urgency. The only way to get to another restroom without humiliating himself would require him to move his hands, and then manage to walk perfectly normally. No fidgeting, no distorted steps, no leg-crossing. He could not walk too slowly, or it would look like something was wrong. He could not walk too quickly, or he’d look like he was in a rush. If someone noticed anything odd about his paces and realized where he was headed, they’d know how embarrassingly desperate he was. He had to walk as if his bladder was completely empty. Could he do that? He’d struggled to get to THIS door even WHILE gripping himself… Vegeta released his crotch and crossed his arms, fingers digging against them with agitation. The pressure had already increased, forcing him to clench his thighs and tighten his leg muscles. Which made the whole ‘walking normally’ thing a bit difficult. He tried, but he couldn’t part his feet very far without upsetting the precarious balance of his bladder. He couldn’t bend his knees without inviting more throbbing pangs. If anyone saw him like this, they’d notice that he was walking funny. They’d be able to figure out why. No one was allowed to see him this way. He was going to stay HERE. But then, he thought back to a part of his dream. He couldn’t walk without making his problem obvious, but maybe he could just fly a little bit above the floor? He wouldn’t need to move his legs that much. But, that would look FAR weirder than the stupid hobble his bladder was forcing onto him. He didn’t fly inside the house unless he was trying to reach something high up. He’d garner attention, and if his midsection happened to spasm at the wrong time, if it managed to prompt any squirming… Leaving this room was not an option. Vegeta could wait. He could learn how to be ‘patient’, however that worked. If he just stayed right by the door and didn’t walk around, his bladder would stay mostly calm. If only Saiyan hearing weren’t so good… Vegeta absolutely HATED this, but his body was very susceptible to the power of suggestion sometimes. One part of it was, anyway. That was why listening to running water could occasionally help him go. But, it was far more common for him to be subjected to such noises when he needed to hold it. Those sounds were mixing together with another problematic detail to force Vegeta into holding himself again, bending forwards. The other issue he was currently faced with was a new one, one he’d only become aware of recently. He was training his bladder again, getting it used to a new set of rules. One of those rules being that THIS was a set-place where it could always empty. He’d never actually HAD a specific location where relief was basically guaranteed before. Out in space, his living situation was tenuous at best. Sometimes, he’d have a bed and a room, sometimes he’d sleep outside, and sometimes he’d be in his pod for a while. There was never one SPECIFIC place that he always went to void. It was always ‘Oh, I’m finally alone!’ followed by him finding the nearest location that he could consider ‘acceptable’, nervously paying attention to the readings on his scouter so he could be CERTAIN that his alone-time would LAST. Now, he DID have one place where he was almost always able to pee, and his stupid bladder had gotten a little too USED to that. The most infuriating things had been happening lately! He’d be out for most of the day, managing his need with hardly any trouble. Then, he’d get home and— typically the second he’d just reached the front door— it was like all of it hit him at once. He’d suddenly need to relieve himself far, FAR worse than he’d needed it a second ago, and it would rapidly keep GETTING worse the closer he got to the bedroom. That was not how his body was SUPPOSED to behave. Up until recently, that wasn’t how it had EVER behaved! But, he hadn’t been able to get it to stop. His infuriating bladder was too damned suggestible! So, being stuck just outside the one place he could basically ALWAYS pee, forced to listen to running water as he just stood there and held it… Vegeta had felt utterly desperate when he first woke up, now after only a few minutes of THIS, he felt like he might burst. Remembering even more of his dream, a very traitorous part of his brain tried to argue that there was actually a very easy way OUT of his current predicament. All he needed to do was knock on the door and… Admit that he was— He would rather die. Vegeta had reached a point where he could tell Bulma he was heading off to pee. It was really difficult, but he could force out those words. He could NOT go any further than that. He could never tell her that it was urgent. He definitely couldn’t allow her to think that he was too full to wait for her to finish showering! He’d wait. He’d wait… Besides, if it really got THAT bad, the door was barely a barrier to him. He could break it down with little to no effort. Yeah. He could… Destroy what was literally the most important door in this entire building, have Bulma yell at him, and then try to relieve his bladder without any privacy while she KEPT yelling at him. Okay. Bad idea. In fact, maybe he should stand further AWAY from the door just in case his temper decided to flare suddenly and force him to make some awful decisions. Bulma couldn’t take that much longer, anyway. Vegeta could wait. He’d stand there and keep waiting. Listening to the hiss of the shower. Every drop penetrating his ear drums and drowning out every thought that wasn’t related to urinating and how badly he needed to do it. ‘Stop thinking about it…’ Vegeta did his best to concentrate on something else. He was able to handle an even higher level of gravity now, likely thanks to being better hydrated. He’d like to see Kakarot try to stand up in the gravity chamber now. He probably wouldn’t be able to. Kakarot’s house only had one restroom. Did his wife shower for as long as Bulma did? Of course, Kakarot could just run outside and go in the bushes. He lived in the middle of nowhere and didn’t even care if anyone saw him. Vegeta had to live in the center of a massive city, and he cared IMMENSELY about someone seeing h— Right. Right. He needed to think about something else. … … Ahhh, he couldn’t think of anything else! His bladder was throbbing constantly, his back was starting to pinch, and he— He leaked. Barely even for a full second, but plenty to send a bolt of cold fear down his spine. When this was immediately followed by another spurt, he clenched his hands tighter and tried not to let the panic overwhelm him. He felt… Too comfortable here. He was hit with a sudden realization that he hadn’t considered before; He locked up in places where he felt stressed. THIS was one of the only places where he DIDN’T feel that way. To top it off, he was currently by himself. That could have meant that, if he overflowed here— which he was feeling DANGEROUSLY close to doing— the usual ‘block’ wouldn’t be in the way. He wouldn’t get the horrific kidney torture, instead he might actually— Bulma would SEE— Was there somewhere else he could go without leaving this room? The stupidly large water bottle he’d had before bed was still on the night-stand. It was pretty big, but he still wasn’t convinced that his own capacity wasn’t higher. Besides, what would he do to HIDE the thing before Bulma got back? There was one of Bulma’s plants by the door. Revolting. Disgusting. Utterly— He’d also probably KILL the thing and, unless the soil it was in soaked up liquid at a lightning speed, Bulma WOULD notice how wet it was. But, his only other option was to… Vegeta understood on some level that ‘Knock on the door, and tell Bulma that you have to pee’ was by far the SIMPLEST choice available to him. It didn’t involve any sneaking around, trying to walk like he wasn’t about to explode. It didn’t involve any destruction. No overflowing bottles, no murdered plants, no scrambling to come up with an excuse to EXPLAIN those things. Anyone else would have knocked on that door ages ago. But, he wasn’t anyone else! He was— He didn’t beg! He would never beg, especially not for this! Never again! He was LEAKING, though! His holding muscles felt… Unstable somehow. Not as taut as usual. If Bulma didn’t get out of that room soon, and Vegeta couldn’t wait… He would not beg. He would DEMAND. Like the warrior he was. He reached and hit his knuckles against the door as lightly as he could. “Door’s unlocked,” Bulma called back. Vegeta hadn’t even thought to try it… Not that it would have done him much good in the long run. She was still IN there. “Th—That’s…” Vegeta struggled to think of what to say. He felt pitiful, dribbling pee into his clothes and having to ask someone else to give him what he needed. He couldn’t stand it! Straightening his throat, and gathering as much confidence as he could muster, he said; “I— I demand that you relinquish that room immediately, or else I will—“ He stopped when he heard Bulma mumbling. He had a difficult time making out what she’d said over the relentless hiss of the shower, but it sounded like; “Or else you’ll wet yourself?” Vegeta stumbled backwards slightly, face aflame. Blasted… Infuriating… GAH. “I— Will pretend I didn’t hear that! The reason I’m giving this order is not important, but if—“ The shower abruptly switched off, freeing Vegeta from at least SOME of the torment. The throbs of need tearing through his middle calmed down slightly now that the awful sound had been removed. Bulma groaned, “You know, Vegeta, you could ask like a NORMAL person…” “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Vegeta said, crossing his legs around the other way. ‘Hurry the Hell up! If you know I’m… Needing something, then stop being so slow!’ Finally, the door opened. Bulma stepped out wearing her robe. Vegeta was doing his absolute BEST to appear presentable in front of her. He’d moved his hands behind his back, but his legs refused to uncoil and he was visibly shaking all over. He only managed to keep his hands away from his crotch for a second before they resumed squeezing against his will. He wanted to just run into the restroom and put an end to this, but Bulma was still RIGHT by the door, and she was LOOKING at him, and— “Go over there!” Vegeta snapped, pointing to the bed. Bulma KEPT looking at him for a second, but then went to the bed, watching as he finally scrambled into the restroom. Ack, how embarrassing! Now, it was bound to take him longer to actually start going. He stood at the toilet, and— Vegeta’s eyes cracked open slightly, then he quickly sat up in bed. It was the middle of the night. He wasn’t in the restroom. Bulma was right beside him, and he’d nearly managed to— He glanced back and forth and then— very reluctantly— down at his lap. His hands were squeezed there, but nothing felt… Damp. Fuck, he’d woken up at the last possible second. He wasn’t certain if relieving himself in a dream would cause him to do it for real, but he had NO intention of ever finding out. But, that had been so weird. He’d never had a dream WITHIN a dream before. … Was he ACTUALLY awake now, or was his brain playing more tricks on him? Everything with Bulma in the shower had felt super real, nothing out of the ordinary to tip him off to the fact that he was still sleeping. Well, if he WAS asleep, then he knew a good way to wake himself back up. He sat up further, forced one hand away from his crotch, and harshly punched himself in the chest. “Oof..” His bladder lurched in response and he needed to tighten his thighs up even more, but the pain was enough to convince him that he was awake. But, now Bulma was too… “Vegeta, what are you doing?” “I— I’m making sure that I’m not asleep.” “… What.” Bulma sat up further. “Oh no, did you actually start—“ “NO!” Vegeta snapped. “Of course I didn’t! Don’t even ASK that! Now— STAY there.” He got to his feet, albeit wobbly. His bladder felt like it was trying to crush him from the inside out. This was the sort of desperation that he usually only encountered after a day’s long hold. Stupid water… Stupid body not waking up earlier… Stupid— Vegeta’s eyes drew open again. He was back in bed. DAMMIT. Was he actually awake NOW, or was this just yet more torture? He was holding himself, squirming, pressure making him sweat. But he was wary of doing ANYTHING that might put an end to it! When he’d punched himself, it had felt so real, but even THAT had been a trick. He looked to his side, seeing Bulma wasn’t there. He picked up on the sound of the shower, again. But was THAT real, or was it too a figment of his imagination trying to taunt him? He got out of bed, went to the restroom door, knocked. “It’s unlocked,” Bulma called back, just as she’d done during one of his dreams. Her voice sounded normal, but it had sounded normal BEFORE, too. The door being open didn’t help Vegeta very much, though. “Bulma, this is a strange question, but do you think I’m awake right now?” Silence. “Unless you’re sleep-walking, then YES, you ARE awake…” Bulma sighed. “It’s just that I’ve woken up a FEW times this morning, and—“ Vegeta tensed one of his fists, the other hand still gripping himself. “I want to relieve myself…” “I already TOLD you, the door’s unlocked.” “You’re still IN there!” Vegeta reminded. “And, I’m not even sure if I’m actually AWAKE, or—“ Vegeta found himself laying in bed again. He HADN’T been awake. Okay. What did he have to destroy to put an end to all of this!? He didn’t even BOTHER trying to figure out if he was still sleeping now or not. Odds were, he was. He couldn’t pee, if he did then he was likely to… He hadn’t done THAT since he was two! No way in Hell would he risk it again NOW. He would hold it until he was ABSOLUTELY sure that he’d woken up. Maybe not in this room, though. Dream or not, his body recognized this as the easiest place to void, being in it was too much of a temptation. He left, went down the hall, trying to ignore how much each step hurt his midsection. THAT sure felt real, but he could easily be imagining it. He needed some way to test this. Punching himself hadn’t worked, so he had to find something else. He could never read in his dreams. Anything he saw written down would be incomprehensible and random— Even signs that he saw every day would appear distorted and unrecognizable. If he found something to read and it was actually legible, then he was awake. If he was awake, he could pee. Even though he believed himself to be in a dream, Vegeta put forth his best effort at walking calmly and smoothly. There was still a slim chance that this WAS real, and that the people he passed could actually see him, and notice any signs of his desperation. He couldn’t allow that. No one was permitted to see him in THAT sort of distress. He got to the front of the building, and decided he’d go outside to see if he could read the sign on the front. He ‘woke up’ again before he even made it through the door. Someone needed to pay for this. He wasn’t sure WHO, but SOMEONE. Bulma was showering again. Maybe. If any of this was real. Vegeta forced himself out of bed, and the immediate shift in the pressure stretching out his bladder did not feel imaginary— But NONE of his bladder’s spasms had felt fake so far. He waited by the restroom door for a second, and it didn’t take long for the running water to grind down his resistance. He knocked again. “B—Bulma?” He called. “I— Uh—“ He gritted his teeth. He wanted someone to free him from the stress and needfulness he was enduring. Someone to assure him that he was awake, that it was okay to relieve himself… “What is it?” Bulma asked. “Er… I…” Vegeta was not at ALL convinced that he was speaking to the real Bulma, yet that did nothing to make his next words come out any easier. “I’m bursting.” “I told you to stop saving all that water until right before bed!” Bulma said. That… WAS the sort of response he would have expected out of her… But, perhaps his imagination just KNEW her too well and was still trying to trick him. “I’ll be out in a minute, can you wait that lo—“ “Of course I can!” Vegeta exclaimed. “Don’t you DARE imply—“ “I wasn’t!” Bulma groaned. In response to his own protests, Vegeta’s bladder spasmed hard again and he felt himself lose a tiny spurt of liquid. He actually forced himself to pay extra attention to how the loss of control felt, was it moving straight down his legs because he was actually standing up? Or was it spreading over his lap because, in reality, he was still in bed? He thought it was the first thing, but after so many false awakenings, he didn’t feel like he could trust ANYTHING. The door opened, Bulma stepped out and… Stared at him, particularly at the hand still between his legs. He yanked it away, but it was too late. The damage was done. She’d seen him doing that… “G—Go to the bed,” he demanded. She did as asked, and Vegeta went in, locking the door and standing in front of the toilet. Once he was ready to go, nothing happened. A familiar feeling, but the cause of it was new. He was convinced that if he let himself pee, he’d suddenly wake up in bed again, this time in a puddle. He’d soak himself, and the bed, and… And maybe some of it would even get on Bulma. He would never survive that. At the same time, he didn’t want to leave and keep holding it in. The pressure was painful, so bad that it hurt just to inhale, his skin being stretched over the bloated knot of tension in his middle. That sensation was so annoying to him that he started to just HOLD his breath for a bit so he could have a reprieve. Vegeta could hold his breath for a LONG time before his lungs started to burn. That was one of the many things he was proud of. He could search for items in the ocean without running out of air, he could hide under water to pull off a sneak attack, he could— Suddenly, he felt a very peculiar sensation, like some sort of snap in his midsection, and then he was peeing. Full force, too. He hadn’t needed to strain at first to get it out. It just happened, like Kakarot had told him it was SUPPOSED to. For the first couple seconds, he felt more panic than relief. Was he… Was he ‘going’ in bed? He didn’t feel himself getting warmer, so he didn’t THINK he was ‘spilling’. As more time passed and he didn’t notice any increases in temperature, much less any wetness, he accepted that he WASN’T dreaming, and that it was FINE for him to continue voiding now. He wasn’t dreaming… Which meant he’d ACTUALLY said the words “I’m bursting” to Bulma. He’d spoken that pathetic, pitiful statement OUT LOUD to her. He’d told her that, not only did he desire to urinate, but he NEEDED to do it urgently. He’d ADMITTED that he was desperate. So, she was probably thinking about that now. Thinking about how uncomfortable he’d been. Thinking about how, since HE’D managed to put that into words for the first time EVER, that meant he must have been SERIOUSLY dying to go. She was thinking about how he must have been close to… To ‘having an accident’, if he’d allowed himself to talk like that! Thankfully, those thoughts didn’t make him STOP peeing. They did, however, bathe his chest in ice while his face lit in flame. The two opposing sensations failed to balance one another out, and he had to fight not to shake from the embarrassment. He did his best to enjoy the release— It was a nice feeling, and he was glad he’d managed to wake up in time. But, when he was done, he was reluctant to leave the room right away. He took a few extra seconds to splash some water on his face before returning to the bedroom. Bulma had waited right where he’d told her to and, flustered, he looked at the door to leave, not wanting to say anything else. Bulma noticed his discomfort. “Vegeta, are you okay? Were you able to—“ “Yes,” Vegeta interrupted. “Don’t CHECK on me with— I didn’t mean to say that earlier.” “Say… What? That you needed to go?” Vegeta looked away. “Seriously? With how much you swear, I was just impressed by how politely you managed to phrase that.” It wasn’t admitting that he had to go that was the issue, not anymore! It was admitting that he was DESPERATE to go! “Look, I’m kind of glad that you speak up about it sometimes now,” Bulma said. “It makes you sound more confident. And, it’s honestly sort of scary when you DON’T sound confident about something, so try to keep it up.” He… Sounded confident when he admitted that he was bursting to pee and couldn’t wait much longer? How the Hell could ANYONE sound confident doing that?! Whatever. If that was seriously what Bulma thought, then maybe he could allow himself to say such things around her. ONLY her, though.
Bulma was pleased that her plan to manipulate Vegeta seemed to be working out. Praising him for sounding ‘confident’ whenever he admitted to her that he needed to go felt bizarre, but since stroking his ego seemed to be the only thing that had any effect on him, she kept doing it. He’d convinced himself that NOT urinating made him strong, if she could subtly mess with his head until he started to believe the OPPOSITE, she was sure the problem would go away for good. Except, there was still such a long way to go. He could relieve himself at home with no issue. He could tell her what he needed and not stammer so much anymore. He was drinking a somewhat adequate amount, even if he DID keep saving most of it until the end of the day— There had now been a couple repeats of that morning, where he’d needed to rush her out of the shower after he’d woken up desperate. Outside of the home was still an issue. She’d never succeeded in even getting him to TRY using a public restroom. No matter how far out they’d gone, if he got too uncomfortable he insisted on flying all the way home. He could do that fast, and Bulma was sure that most of the time he was gone was spent on actually peeing, and not on the flight back and forth. She was still sure it must have been a bit of a hassle, though. He was very reluctant to drink anything when they were out, or when they were about to leave the house together. It was difficult to convince him to have more than a few sips. The only time he didn’t mind having some water before heading out was if he was on his way to go train with Goku. This told her that whatever Goku was doing to ‘help’ him must have been working as well. She wondered if that meant she should invite HIM on one of their outings someday and see if Vegeta’s behavior regarding hydration changed at all. She knew the response she’d get if she ever suggested inviting ‘That damn Kakarot!’ along on one of their dates. So, for the time being, Bulma tried to just be patient with him and hope that someday he’d agree to try using a public toilet, or relax a little more about the water he put into his body. She’d just keep encouraging him in little ways, and build up his confidence. So long as nothing happened to completely shatter it again, then he should stay on the right path. *** The Lookout was actually one of the most difficult places for Vegeta to relieve himself. There were two restrooms there, the one in the time chamber— Which Vegeta could only access occasionally— and the one in the main part of the building, which was useless to him. The Lookout was small, which made getting IN there undetected into a challenge. And even if he DID manage to enter it, the door didn’t lock. Apparently, it USED to have a lock way back when Kakarot had first come up here as a child. The idiot had managed to break it when he thought practicing a move while bathing would be a good way to make the most out of his time. Then Kami had seen no need to replace the lock. Nor had Dende. Since they both only ever entered that room to wash themselves, maintaining it was low on the list of priorities. So long as the bath worked, nothing else mattered. Vegeta had attempted to relieve himself at the Lookout only once. It had been right after the Cell Game, and once Trunks had been revived and Vegeta was finally able to THINK clearly again, he realized that his bladder had filled considerably without his notice. Everybody else was distracted, so he snuck off, only to discover that the door lacked a lock. He hadn’t even bothered with it then. No lock, the possibility that someone could walk in on him before he’d finished— Or worse, before he’d managed to get himself started— it was intolerable. He didn’t even need to go that badly, so long as he kept his legs close together he’d be fine. He’d returned home, very uncomfortable but still not bursting, a while later. Bulma wanted to talk to him about Kakarot— She had some preposterous idea that Vegeta was going to MISS him for some reason! He’d brushed her off, insisting he didn’t care what happened to Kakarot. He’d gotten to the restroom, to privacy, to silence and to the prison of his own thoughts. Kakarot was… Nope. He didn’t care! He never WOULD care. Nothing would ever MAKE him care. He just had to pee! Why wouldn’t it work— He was alone, wasn’t he? The door was locked, no one had even seen him come in here! Total solitude, completely alone, no one there… But, he couldn’t go. In fact, the more he focused on how alone he was, the more his holding muscles seemed to knot up— The complete opposite of what usually happened. Something felt… Wrong. He couldn’t even place it, but there was this horrible feeling encompassing his entire body. It was heavy, yet also really hollow. He’d only ever felt that after he’d found out his planet had been destroyed… He’d gotten rid of it THEN by screaming and attacking things until he just couldn’t feel ANYTHING anymore. There was nothing for him to attack now. And, he had to urinate so badly that he didn’t think he’d do a good job of destroying anything, anyway. He only managed to get his bladder to empty by shutting his eyes tightly and pretending that he was inside the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, and that he’d just spent hours upon hours training with— With— BY HIMSELF. Once he was finished and he had a clearer mind, Vegeta understood what had happened— The bathroom on the Lookout not having a lock had simply stressed him out too much, he’d needed more time to calm down. That was it. Nothing else. He’d never tried to pee at the Lookout again. He knew that it was pointless. He’d checked a couple times to see if a new lock HAD been added, but it never was. The toilet was a few paces from the door. Since Piccolo had never taught Vegeta how to do that thing where he stretched his arm out twice the length of his entire body, he couldn’t try to just hold it closed himself. So, he’d spent quite a few desperate hours there before. Once the pressure had gotten so severe that he’d nearly lost control of his mouth and informed Dende, “If you don’t put a lock on this door, I’m going to end you!” He’d just barely stopped himself from making the embarrassing threat, and resigned himself to holding his bladder until he could leave and find some actual privacy. That day was the worst bout of need he’d ever suffered on the Lookout. Until today. Vegeta had made a pretty terrible mistake. Once again, he’d left the house without relieving himself first. In the past, he’d only ever done that because he wasn’t ABLE to go at the house for whatever reason. But, today there was absolutely no excuse for it. He must have slept badly or something. In fact, he could barely remember waking up, he’d been so exhausted. The moments in which he’d been getting dressed and flying here were all foggy as well. The only reason he knew they’d happened at all was because he WAS here. He knew he couldn’t have peed before coming here because he felt his midsection burning from a grotesque degree of urgency. He was struggling not to bounce on his feet. Why had Kakarot even told him to come here so early in the morning? There were a few others up here with him, adding to Vegeta’s distress. He couldn’t let himself fidget at ALL. Someone was bound to notice, they were sure to figure out what was making him so antsy, and from there they’d somehow guess that he had trouble peeing here. “Vegeta,” Piccolo said suddenly, making him jump which, in turn, made him blush. ‘Dammit, pay attention…’ Vegeta thought. “What?” “Did you bring the Dragon Radar like we told you to?” HAD he? He couldn’t remember. The entire morning was such a rushed blur… “I—“ “Yeah, he gave it to me already,” Kakarot said. “We just need to find two more balls.” “Awesome,” Krillin said. “This is going a lot faster than I thought it would.” “You want to come with me to get them?” Gohan asked. Vegeta shifted his weight, doing his best to appear bored. Now that he’d moved once, his body was begging him to keep it up. He tried to catch Kakarot’s eye. He hated it, but Kakarot could probably tell he needed to go with just a half-second glance, no matter how still Vegeta tried to keep himself. Kakarot would… Know, and he’d distract everyone, he’d find a way to get Vegeta some privacy. Kakarot wasn’t looking at him, though. He was just carrying on with Piccolo and Krillin. Vegeta still wasn’t sure what they were gathering the balls FOR. He was sure he must have been told earlier, but had been too drowsy to grasp it. He heard Bulma’s name, and all thoughts of peeing vanished from his mind for a second. Had something happened to Bulma?! No, no, he’d definitely remember THAT. No need to panic, Bulma was fine, and they were just— Right. Now it was finally coming back to him. He’d wanted to get Bulma something amazing for her birthday— The best possible thing, something WORTHY of the woman privileged enough to have Vegeta as a mate. But, he’d had trouble coming up with the right gift. Bulma could afford to buy anything she wanted for herself, so Vegeta needed to get her something that COULDN’T be purchased. He’d settled on an item that would be truly one of a kind, because it had never actually EXISTED before. He was going to force the dragon to create a live unicorn for her. A live unicorn that could shoot chi out of its mouth and was strong enough to kill an entire army of Friezas. Vegeta promised himself he’d go to bed early tonight. All this drowsy forgetfulness was unacceptable. Keeping his mind sharp was just as important as maintaining his body’s strength. A pinching throb drew his attention back to his bladder. Of all the things he could have forgotten this morning… He would have preferred accidentally walking out with only one boot on, or something. As Kakarot continued to talk, handing Krillin the dragon radar, Vegeta took a few hesitant steps closer to him. Kakarot just needed to look at him, just for a second. Vegeta was keeping himself still, he hadn’t bounced or swayed after that one, tiny squirm a few minutes ago. But, he could feel himself shivering. Kakarot would know, Vegeta didn’t need to squirm, he didn’t need to say a word about it. Krillin and Gohan took off with the radar, leaving Vegeta alone with Piccolo and Kakarot. Where had Dende gone, Vegeta wondered. He was uncomfortable enough that he thought he might actually go shout at him to buy a fucking lock for that damn door. Kakarot’s eyes flicked to Vegeta for barely even a full second. “Vegeta and I have to go ask Dende something,” he told Piccolo. He’d… Barely looked at him, and he still knew immediately. That was what Vegeta had expected, but it was still embarrassing to have anyone— Especially Kakarot— know his mannerisms so well. Vegeta focused on how his discomfort was about to be alleviated, and followed Kakarot inside. As ever, forcing himself to walk with his bladder so full was maddeningly difficult. His legs kept wanting to rub together, his feet kept turning in towards each other. He forced himself to keep legs straight and pace NORMALLY, like he didn’t have anything that he was straining against. “I am SO sorry I broke the lock when I was younger!” Kakarot said. “I’ll hold the door shut for you, alright?” “Mmmf, fine…” Vegeta wished his arms were longer, he’d be able to do this by himself then, no relying on Kakarot… “From inside or outside?” Kakarot asked. “… What.” “You want me to hold the door from the inside or the outside?” “You… You think I’d want you right there in the room with me!?” Vegeta snapped. “You’re okay with me being next to you when we’re outside, and I didn’t know if you’d need me to say stuff to you agai—“ “I don’t NEED you to say anything,” Vegeta huffed. “Stay outside.” “Alright,” Kakarot shrugged. They turned a corner and ran into Dende. Vegeta stilled and looked down at himself, trying to correct anything about his posture that may have looked off. His knees were bent too much, he was still shaking a bit… A rational part of his mind tried to argue that, since Dende lacked a bladder, he probably wouldn’t recognize Vegeta’s twitching as a sign he needed to relieve himself. That did nothing to calm his nerves, however. “Can I talk to you both for a minute?” Dende asked. Kakarot hesitated, gaze flicking to Vegeta again. It took everything Vegeta had not to squirm under the attention. Gah, he hated this— Normally he LOVED when everyone’s eyes were on him, but now he didn’t want to be noticed at all. “Um, in a minute,” Kakarot said. “I really have to pee first.” “Oh,” Dende said. “Um… The toilet hasn’t been working for a while.” “What?” “Some plumbing problem,” Dende said. “The bath still works, so I haven’t gotten around to fixing it yet. I’m sorry.” “I’ll… Uh… Go somewhere else then,” Kakarot said. “I’ll be back later.” Dende walked off, and Vegeta shuddered more obviously. “Wait… How does plumbing even WORK on a floating platform in the middle of the sky?” Vegeta wondered. “Huh?” Kakarot asked. “I guess the same way it works everywhere else.” “But… Never mind,” Vegeta said, tensing his thighs. He was not TOO upset about the plumbing issues— However the Hell that even functioned to begin with. It wasn’t as though he was out of options for relief now. “Kakarot, I demand you take me home.” “Sure,” Kakarot said. He held onto Vegeta’s shoulder and put two fingers against his forehead. A few seconds passed, but nothing happened. Vegeta’s extremely limited amount of patience wore thin. One foot rubbing agitatedly against the opposite ankle, he snapped; “Kakarot!” “I’m trying!” Kakarot insisted. “I can’t sense anyone’s energy! Maybe we’re too high up.” “You have used Instant Transmission here before!” “Yeah, but I’m really hungry now, so—“ “Then let’s just go back down,” Vegeta said. He was starting to sweat, refusing to accept that he was now limited to his immediate surroundings to find a place to empty out his bladder. “Let’s try the time chamber first,” Kakarot suggested. “That’s closest.” As much as he didn’t want to admit it, that wasn’t a bad idea. The thing was a portal to a different dimension, if Vegeta went in by himself he’d suddenly have more privacy than he’d ever had in his life. Just a few minutes in there wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. Plus, if it took him a while to start peeing, it wouldn’t matter— Only a few seconds would pass on the outside no matter how long it took him. Except, Mr. Popo denied them access to it. He kept emphasizing how taxing it was to be in there, how people could only remain in the room for two days over the course of their entire lifetime, how they needed to SAVE that time for when they really needed it. Vegeta really needed it NOW. His bladder had seriously started to LOOSEN itself as they’d gotten closer to the room, it HURT to have to pull everything taut again. He lost his composure for a second— just a second!— and his legs crossed together. Immediately, he forced them apart, but his bladder was still flaring and he felt the familiar pinch creeping up his back. Kakarot was staring again, frowning. “We’re only gonna be in there for a couple seconds,” he said. “We just… I need to pee really bad, and the toilet’s not working. And Vegeta… Um… He… Uh… He forgot something in there the last time, he needs to get it!” Mr. Popo wouldn’t budge, he said something about how going in and out so quickly could actually be just as harmful as overstaying their time. And he kept… Looking at Vegeta’s feet, which he was beginning to bounce, and Vegeta swore he KNEW and was getting some form of amusement out of this! Kakarot led him off, thankfully fast enough that Vegeta didn’t accidentally SAY something. “Sorry, Vegeta,” he told him. “Let’s just go back down. Can you fly still?” “O—Of course I can fly!” Vegeta insisted. He was shifting from side to side now. He KNEW he was doing it, and he was burning up with humiliation, but he couldn’t make himself stop. He felt like his insides were starting to come apart, pressure slamming forcefully against his opening, stings coursing through his lower back. That horrid pain was coming, he KNEW it was coming, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. “Okay, there’s lots of trees and stuff down there, I’m sure we’ll be able to find you some privacy.” Before they could leave, they were stopped by Dende, whom once again asked if they could talk. Kakarot shook his head, “I still really need to—“ “It’s important,” Dende insisted. “It will only take a few minutes.” So, Vegeta was forced to just stand there as Dende talked about… Something. Vegeta barely heard a word he said. All of his attention was directed inwards, to the flaring pressure in his middle and the biting pangs that occasionally appeared in his back. He was trying very hard to gauge how much time he had left before the true torture began. Right now, the sensations in his back were fairly dull and only occurring every few seconds. It was also still confined to his lower back, it didn’t start getting REALLY bad until it had moved far enough upwards. Eventually, it was going to be nightmarishly painful, a feeling akin to being torn to shreds as something tried to chew its way out of his skin. He wished his body could give him a warning in the moments leading up to that Hell, if he knew to brace himself he thought he’d be able to control his reaction to it a little better. He’d have an easier time not vocalizing his agony and drawing attention to it. Vegeta leaned against the wall, trying to shift his weight around without being obvious. He shuffled a bit BEHIND Kakarot, hoping to stay out of Dende’s field of vision as much as he could. Once he thought he was hidden well enough, he twisted his legs together, trying to pin himself closed between them. That was better… It still hurt extremely badly, but he was at the point where ANY decrease in pressure— no matter how minuscule— felt amazing. But, the reprieve only lasted for a second, and then his bladder was pounding again and begging him to do MORE to ease its discomfort. His fingertips tapped agitatedly against the wall. Vegeta didn’t trust his hands. The idea of holding himself was VERY tempting, and he had to consciously keep telling himself not to do it. How much longer did he have to stand here? If he and Kakarot didn’t leave soon, then he probably WOULD have a difficult time reaching the ground. Flying, the feeling of the wind hitting him, it would be so taxing on his bladder… Not that he’d have a choice in the matter. Since Kakarot apparently couldn’t teleport on an empty stomach, Vegeta either had to fly on his own, or— And he was nauseated at the very thought— have Kakarot CARRY him. Unless there was somewhere ELSE he could relieve himself up here. The toilet was broken, he wasn’t allowed in the time chamber… Kakarot could still hold the door to the restroom closed, though. And, if he did that, Vegeta would have the solitude he needed. He could then get back at Dende for never bothering to get a lock, for procrastinating on fixing the toilet; He could urinate down the drain in Dende’s tub. That was repulsive. It was vile. It was completely and utterly desperate. And, most importantly, it was thoroughly BENEATH him. He would just fly down, and he’d do it without Kakarot’s assistance. Because he COULD. His bladder was already inconveniencing him by making him feel so uncomfortable, he was through with letting it impact his ability to function when it got too full. He was in charge of it. If he wanted to fly around while it spasmed and erupted and begged him to stop, then he WOULD. It was finally going to have to ACCEPT which one of them was in control. Vegeta mentally repeated that to himself. He was in control of his bladder, not the other way around. It couldn’t force him to do anything he didn’t want to. It couldn’t prevent him from doing whatever he wanted. He was in control. He was always in control. He got so focused on THAT idea that he stopped paying attention to what his hands were up to. Without realizing it, he’d begun to hold himself. He noticed eventually, noticed how much BETTER he felt, and decided to let it continue for a few more seconds. He DECIDED to do it, he really COULD stop whenever he wanted. “Is he okay?” Dende asked suddenly, breaking off mid-sentence. Vegeta snapped to attention, hands flying behind his back, legs untwisting but failing to move very far apart from one another. “Wh—What?” “Are you unwell?” “N—No,” Vegeta said, his hands moved to his sides, clenching and unclenching. He was so damn tense. His teeth were grinding and he was starting to wonder how long it would take for his jaw strength to break all of them. “I’m fine.” “Okay…” Dende said uncertainly, going back to… Whatever he’d been prattling on about before. It went on and on and on, and Vegeta felt like his whole body was being flooded. Pressure exploding everywhere, liquid rising and rising. He started to sway again, knees rubbing, jaw tightening. He was still shaking, and now that was just hurting him further, making the walls of his bladder contract and spasm so violently that he— “What do you think, Vegeta?” Dende inquired. What did he think about WHAT? All Vegeta COULD think was ‘Please, shut up and let me leave! I have to void so badly that it feels lethal!’ “Wh—Whatever Kakarot said!” Vegeta answered. “Er… Alright…” Dende shrugged, and Vegeta tuned him out again. It felt like several excruciating hours had passed before Dende finally let them leave. “S—Sorry about that,” Kakarot said. “You’re still able to fly?” “Of course!” Vegeta snapped. He was shuffling back and forth, even now that Kakarot’s full attention was on him. He just could NOT go still anymore, he couldn’t even manage to get CLOSE. The urgent blares of extreme need required him to move. His bladder was FORCING him to do something again— Making him dance around like a moron. No matter how many times he told himself that HE was in charge of his bladder, the statement refused to come true. “We can go around the back, so Piccolo won’t… Um… See…” Kakarot suggested. Vegeta nodded. His fidgeting was completely out of his control, he could just BARELY tolerate having Kakarot watching as he came undone. Any more eyes on him, and he’d— “Goku!” Krillin exclaimed, coming up behind him. “Gohan and I got the last of the dragon balls!” Vegeta struggled for some semblance of stillness. He kept shifting from side to side, legs pressed very tightly together, shivers moving all up and down his body. He couldn’t make himself any more presentable than that, and Krillin was watching his restless motion in confusion. Where had he even COME from?! Vegeta hadn’t sensed him at ALL. And, he usually COULD still sense chi when he was desperate— Just one more thing that set him on edge and prevented his bladder from releasing. Come to think of it, he couldn’t feel Kakarot’s chi right now, either. He didn’t think he’d felt it all day, even though they’d continually been right next to each other. What the Hell? Was something actually wrong with him? Vegeta clamped his eyes closed and did his very best to focus, the ice which had been solidifying itself against his ribs all day went a few degrees colder. He was supposed to be able to— He could… Sort of feel Bulma’s energy, kind of dimly… Was she here? How close? Was she going to see him this way, too? “Vegeta, are you okay?” Krillin asked. “You look kinda dizzy…” “It’s— We’re so high up,” Vegeta choked out, hating the pathetic quality in his voice. “The air is thin, of course I’m dizzy.” “Oh, yeah,” Krillin said. “You get used to it eventually. I brought Bulma and everybody,” he added. Bulma WAS here. Vegeta would probably have to walk by her to leave the Lookout. Walk by her when he could BARELY walk at all. And, what did Krillin mean by ‘everybody’? How many others were present to witness him in this severe state of need? Gah, he could barely believe it had gotten THIS bad, he would NEVER let himself forget to urinate before leaving home again. He tried to REMEMBER when he’d last voided. He’d done it about an hour before he’d gone to sleep, and then he’d had his usual large bottle of water… He glanced at Dende’s clock, and it took him a moment to figure out what it actually said— It must have been in Namekian, explaining the different symbols used for the numbers. He’d been restraining that huge container of fluid for over seventeen hours now. The USUAL limit for how long he could last before his bladder unleashed complete Hell upon him was about a day. But, the usual limit only applied if he’d had very little to drink. That wasn’t the case now. He’d guzzled SO much water before bed, and it was all dying to be released. “That’s great, Krillin,” Kakarot said. “Tell everybody to wait for a bit though, alright? Vegeta and I need to…” Kakarot frowned, clearly struggling to think of another excuse. “We need to—“ Before Kakarot could finish whatever he’d been about to say, Vegeta felt the sudden caustic rush of fiery acid erupting up his back like a geyser of pure, concentrated torture. His eyes blew wide open as, in the seconds after that initial flood of agony, it continued to gnaw at him more and more aggressively. It was so much worse than it usually was! And, typically it was one of the most awful feelings in the universe, so that was saying a LOT. “H—Ahhh—“ Vegeta’s eyes screwed closed, his expression pinched as his knees buckled. His hands alternated between gripping at his crotch and uselessly rubbing his back as if he could soothe away the brutal torment that was still CONTINUING to increase. He felt like he was being lit ablaze and ripped to shreds simultaneously. When he opened his eyes again, his vision was blurry and unfocused, and he could barely make sense of anything beyond the fact that he NEEDED for this to stop! “Kakarot, I can’t wait anymore, I have to do it now!” Ahhh, no! How could he have said that?! How could he have lost control so throughly, his body was a mixture of burning, horrid fire and solid, subzero ice, and the conflicting sensations only made everything hurt worse! “Do WHAT now?” Krillin asked. “Vegeta, what’s going on?” ‘Kakarot, I will do ANYTHING you want if you can make yourself use instant transmission now!’ Vegeta thought. ‘Just get me out of here!’ “He’s… Um…” Kakarot stammered. “He’s… We just have to go, alright?” “We were just about to summon the dragon,” Krillin pointed out. “Just— Just a few minutes,” Kakarot said. “Vegeta, come on…” Kakarot was offering Vegeta his arm now, Kakarot was going to assist him with… With just WALKING, and Vegeta was in so much pain that he could scarcely bring himself to care. Just… He needed to be somewhere else, wherever the closest place was that he could RID of himself of the gallons of fluid trying to murder him. Once they were out of Krillin’s earshot, Kakarot said, “Don’t worry, I’ll tell everyone you’re just really sick.” Losing to a virus was only SLIGHTLY less embarrassing than losing to his bladder, but Vegeta would take whatever he could get. They were outside now, and Krillin really HAD gotten everyone. Bulma was there, along with Trunks. Goten had showed up, Android 18, Chi-Chi… Everyone witnessing as Vegeta was forced to allow Kakarot to SUPPORT him as he struggled to walk properly. He wasn’t walking properly at all. His legs kept knotting up, every step made more acid slosh up his back. The edge of the Lookout seemed so far away. Vegeta didn’t dare LOOK at anyone, and he could still only sense Bulma’s chi— And just BARELY at that— Yet he KNEW everybody was staring. “We need a couple minutes,” Kakarot called over. “Vegeta got REALLY sick all of the sudden, we’re gonna go down and see if Korin’s got anything to help!” Vegeta suddenly turned and pressed himself more into Kakarot’s side, trying to use him for cover as he urgently gripped himself. The only thing more humiliating than having everybody WATCH as he clung onto Kakarot, would be to have them all see him clutching at his crotch like he was about to— All at once, Vegeta felt a heinous snap, one that thundered through his abdomen and careened up his back. It was the worst pain he’d endured all day and, although it had only lasted a second, it made him yelp. Once it subsided, something felt… Better. A LOT better. So much fucking better… Dazed, it took him a second to actually grasp what had changed, and then horror took over, incinerating all the pleasant feelings instantaneously. He was voiding, his bladder had broken apart in much the same way it had done during their camping trip. Only this was so much worse, because it wasn’t JUST Kakarot present to witness it. He strained against Kakarot’s side, trying to pick up his pace. Even if he couldn’t ‘make it’ in time to relieve himself correctly, he could at least get out of here before anyone noticed what had happened! But, he was going so forcefully, it only took a few seconds for it to burst through the material of his clothing and begin splashing loudly against the floor, and— “Woah, what?” He heard Krillin ask. “Is he actually—“ “Dad DID say he was sick…” Gohan murmured. “He must be REALLY sick,” Chi-Chi said. “Poor thing.” “How the Hell can someone piss that much?” Android 18 asked. “Pfft…” Goten giggled. “Heheh, Trunks, your dad’s having an accident!” “Shut up, Goten!” Trunks said. “YOU had one of those last week!” Vegeta felt a hand on his shoulder. He was still uncontrollably pissing, now immobilized from the brutal embarrassment. “Vegeta…” Bulma said. “It’s okay…” Fuckfuckfuckfuck! Vegeta couldn’t breathe at ALL. He hadn’t been lying earlier, the air WAS thin up here, and now that he felt his lungs collapsing and his throat closing up as the icy horror overtook him, he swore he was starting to suffocate. He— He was going to— They got multiple wishes with the dragon balls. He’d use one of those to erase everyone’s memory of this! He could pretend it hadn’t ever happened, he could— Vegeta’s eyes drew open and he found himself staring at the bedroom ceiling. Tension eased from his body and he breathed deeply as his horror and panic evaporated. Oh… Oh thank fuck… That had all been a nightmare. A horrible, awful nightmare. He hadn’t actually embarrassed himself irreparably in front of everyone he knew. He hadn’t— Wait. His need to relieve himself hadn’t followed him out of his dream. But, the wet feeling around his crotch HAD. No. Nonononononono— He bolted upright and moved the sheets, refusing to believe this was even possible. There was no way— No possible way in HELL could he have actually— But, he had. He, the prince of all Saiyans, had managed to… Had managed… Had… Failed to wake up in time. He’d recreated a humiliation that hadn’t happened to him since he was a two year old. And this time was far, far worse. First, and most obvious, he was WAY too old to be doing this. Second, Bulma was RIGHT there next to him. Third, his bladder was… CONSIDERABLY larger than it had been when he was two, and it must have been VERY full in the moment it had released. He was absolutely soaked, the sheets were just… Drenched. It had probably gotten all the way down to the mattress… Even if he SOMEHOW managed to change the sheets without waking Bulma, he was sure the mattress was stained and the only way he could deal with THAT would be to just to incinerate the thing, and— How could he have done this!? His bladder ALWAYS woke him up— It was his body’s fucking alarm clock! Damage control— Damage control! ‘Bulma, I got really thirsty last night, and I was so tired that I spilled the water—‘ That wouldn’t explain the smell… ‘Trunks needs to stop hanging around with Kakarot’s brat, just the other day I heard him babbling about that ridiculous hand-in-warm-water trick, Trunks must have wanted to test it out!’ He didn’t want Trunks to be disciplined for something he hadn’t actually done… ‘It’s sweat! You know how much I thrash around when I’m sleeping, I must have been dreaming about fighting!’ But, the wet spots were only around his crotch… ‘I… Must have been dreaming about you!’ Wrong consistency, not to mention there was way too MUCH of it. Dammit, the only excuses he could think of were all terrible! Maybe he could dry the bed off with his chi! Yeah, he’d charge just enough, keep it in his hands, and wave them over all the— More likely he’d just burn the sheets up, and that would be even harder to explain. He had to do something. So long as no one else found out, he could pretend this had never happened. It would be hard, but he’d force himself to forget it. Then it would never happen again. He couldn’t let anyone else kn— Bulma started to stir. Shitshitshitshitshit— Panicking, Vegeta laid back down on his side and pretended to still be asleep, if only to be granted a few more minutes of peace before he had to come to terms with what he’d done to himself. Bulma sleepily opened her eyes and yawned. As had become somewhat of a routine, she glanced over at Vegeta to gauge how much he was squirming. Some mornings, if he looked too uncomfortable, she’d try to nudge him awake without him noticing. She was still wary of his decision to drink the majority of his water before bed, she didn’t even WANT to know what would happen if he ever— Vegeta wasn’t fidgeting in his sleep at all. Hopefully that meant he’d gotten up in the night and she just hadn’t heard him. But, there was a distinct smell in the air and when she leaned closer to him, her hand came into contact with something clammy. Fuck. After all that time spent building up his confidence, this was going to completely destroy it. Bulma would have to start over again. Would another holding contest with Goku do anything? It had worked like a charm the first time, but would doing the exact same thing again have any significant effect? What could she do to fix this? Maybe she should… Snuggle up with him REALLY close without waking him up. Vegeta wasn’t a huge fan of cuddling. But, sometimes when he was asleep, he’d start to do it without noticing. She could hug him tightly now, and when he woke up… ‘Ah, Vegeta I’m so embarrassed! I can’t believe I did this— And it even got on you! Oh, this is humiliating!’ Would her own clothes appear wet enough from just embracing him, though? ‘I got up last night for a drink and I couldn’t see where I was going! I must have spilled it!’ Directly onto Vegeta’s crotch? He’d never believe that. Besides, the smell was obvious. ‘Hmmm, I should have a chat with Trunks about how jokes like this aren’t funny. I’m sure he got the idea from Goten, I think I heard him say something about doing this same thing to Gohan once.’ Trunks would be so confused if his father was suddenly angry with him for something he hadn’t done. ‘Vegeta, I barely got ANY sleep last night, you were flailing around SO much. Look, you even worked up a sweat!’ But all in one spot? She couldn’t think of anything convincing. When Vegeta got up, he was going to know EXACTLY what he’d done, and he was going to feel horrible. Maybe she could manage to change the sheets without waking him! Maybe— “Bulma, just say whatever you’re gonna say,” Vegeta prompted. Dammit. He was already awake. “… Are you okay?” She asked. She knew it was a dumb thing to say. Obviously, he wasn’t going to be alright after this. Vegeta didn’t even deem that worthy of a response. “Has this ever happened before?” Dammit. Another stupid question. Even if it HAD, like Hell was he gonna tell h— “… A few times when I was two,” Vegeta said. He’d… Admitted to something embarrassing. He’d come right out and said it. There was still hope that his self-esteem wasn’t completely trashed. Careful… Careful… Bulma felt like she was trying to diffuse a bomb, one wrong move and everything would go to Hell. “It’s—“ “Don’t you dare say that this is okay,” Vegeta interrupted. “That I could ever do something so pathetic and childish. I’m supposed to be—“ “This was… One time,” Bulma said. “The sheets can be washed.” Vegeta didn’t CARE about the stupid sheets. He’d prefer to just destroy them. “I don’t judge you for it,” Bulma offered. She was surprised to find that her statement was true. It was his choice to chug water right before bed all the time, she’d always KNOWN this was a possibility if he kept it up, so it would be easy to blame him for it. But, all of this was so difficult for him. He was obviously TRYING to conquer his problem, even if his methods of managing it weren’t always the best. “Doesn’t matter. You SHOULD be judging me,” Vegeta said. “Anyone else would.” Bulma paused. A lot of people probably WOULD laugh hysterically if they’d found out Vegeta had wet the bed, that was true. She could think of one person that definitely WOULDN’T though. And, Vegeta would never admit it, but HIS opinion mattered more to him than almost anyone else’s. “I mean, I know Goku wouldn’t. I’m sure of it…” She hesitated again. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this… Basically, one of the first things I did after I met Goku was have an accident in front of him.” “… What?!” Vegeta demanded. Kakarot had stood there and watched as Bulma— “What did he do?!” “I—It wasn’t like it was his fault,” Bulma said. “He didn’t do anything weird… I mean, when I said I had to go, he was really confused about why I didn’t want him to follow me, but that was it.” Huh. So Kakarot’s social skills actually HAD improved. That first day years ago, the second he’d figured out Vegeta wanted privacy, he’d understood it just fine. He must have gotten any irritating questions about it out of his system with Bulma. “But, when I went off to go, I got grabbed by a dinosaur,” Bulma explained. “And Goku had to come save me. And, I was just getting bounced around so much, and I was so scared, and it just… Happened. And you know what Goku thought about it?” Vegeta shrugged. “Absolutely nothing. He couldn’t even figure out why I was upset.” So, then they’d both… Disgraced themselves in front of Kakarot. That wasn’t something Vegeta particularly wanted to have in common with her, but she was correct in saying Kakarot wouldn’t judge him for tonight. So, that made two people that wouldn’t make him feel like a disgrace. ‘Pitiful, weak, worthless—‘ Frieza would tear him to shreds over this. After… After the ‘incident’ when he was four, Frieza had indeed told Vegeta’s father about what had transpired. Vegeta had been made to stand off to the side as Frieza rehashed the very same comments about what a feeble creature he was. However, there had been an addition; “About what I’d expect, considering he still wet his sheets at two.” And, Vegeta had felt utterly betrayed. Only his parents had known that Vegeta had accidents in his sleep at that age! So, that meant one of them had told Frieza! Why would they do that to him!? Sure, they’d never been super warm, no Saiyan parents WERE, but he’d still always sensed that they at least loved him! Father told him that Frieza only found out because he had access to all of Vegeta’s medical information, and that had been included in one of the notes. Even after that, it took a while for Vegeta to trust his parents again. He was only just STARTING to a year later, when he suddenly wasn’t able to talk to them about anything ever again. Frieza had said it was disgraceful for him to wet the bed at two. To do it NOW was beyond— “What are you thinking about?” Bulma asked. “N—Nothing,” Vegeta said. “Just… Uncomfortable.” Bulma nodded. “You can shower first,” she said. “I’ll take care of… Other stuff.” She pointedly avoided mentioning the sheets, or WHY Vegeta may be eager to clean himself off. “Right…” Vegeta said. In the shower, he tried to stop thinking about his… incident. He particularly tried to stop thinking about it possibly happening again. He’d known all along that his decision to drink so much before bed was risky, but he’d also been convinced that THAT couldn’t possibly happen to him. Now that he knew it COULD… Bulma was going to keep making him drink the same quantity. Saving the majority until bedtime, when he’d be close to the one place he could reliably urinate, was the only reason he could HANDLE it. Loading up on fluids at any other point during the day put him in danger of overflowing in a location where he wouldn’t be able to empty his bladder. But, doing it at night meant that he may… Why did he NEED to drink water, anyway?! Why did he NEED to have a bladder to begin with?! If this stupid thing would just get the Hell out of his way and leave him alone, his life would be so much better. Bulma didn’t mention it again for the rest of the day, and Vegeta sure as fuck wasn’t going to bring it up. Yet, it lingered in his mind the whole time and, that night, he was wary of going to sleep. “I’m not tired,” he said. “Gonna go train some more.” Bulma narrowed her eyes. “Vegeta…” She had a feeling she knew where this was headed. He was going to refuse his body sleep in fear of a repeat of last night. He’d keep that up for way too long, probably coming to some ridiculous conclusion that he actually functioned BETTER without sleep since it opened up more time for training. Eventually, he’d pass out from exhaustion, hopefully not anywhere too inconvenient. Nope. Bulma wasn’t having ANY of that. “You can go to sleep,” she said. “Later.” “No. Not later,” Bulma said. “Lay down.” Vegeta didn’t. Ugh, this was worse than making Trunks go to bed… “It won’t happen again.” “You don’t know that!” “You’ve only done it ONCE in your whole life,” Bulma said. “The times when you were a toddler should hardly even count. It’s extremely unlikely that you’ll suddenly start doing it every time you fall asleep.” “Of course it is!” Vegeta said. “I could never—“ “Then it’s FINE if you go to sleep now!” Vegeta got into bed. It took him longer than usual to actually FALL asleep. He was so paranoid that he got up an extra time to relieve himself. That process took a while since the shame of the previous night was still clamped coldly around him, and he really wasn’t USED to trying to pee when he didn’t need to do it urgently. It was sort of like his bladder couldn’t believe he was letting it empty without it needing to torture him for a couple hours first. He managed it eventually, and then finally fell asleep. He had another dream in which he was desperate, but when he noticed that he couldn’t sense the chi of anyone that was near him, he understood that he was dreaming— That was the biggest and most obvious sign to look for, he realized. The next morning consisted of him hurrying to pee, rather than the abject horror of yesterday. It was one time. He would never let it happen again. Now that he knew how best to determine if he was dreaming or not, he didn’t even think it COULD happen again. He had to forget about it, he had to push it from his mind, until the memory of it became so distant that it no longer even felt real. Just so long as nobody ever REMINDED him of this incident, he could pretend it had never happened.
Something DID eventually occur to remind Vegeta of the disgrace of that night. Weeks had passed, and he hadn’t… Done anything to the sheets again. It really WAS just one time, and it didn’t look as though it would happen again. He was still consistently having dreams in which he was maddeningly desperate, but he always woke up from them in time. The dreams were intensifying, however. In a couple of them— The ones that felt the most real— He’d actually get to the restroom or somewhere else private and he’d even start to GO. However, he’d just stand there peeing for ages without feeling even the tiniest hint of relief. Eventually, the flow would cease and immediately he’d feel like he was going to explode again, which would cause him to realize that it was all a dream. The reason he didn’t feel any better after relieving himself was because, in the real world, his bladder hadn’t emptied at all. Usually, a couple seconds after that, his back would start to hurt in that agonizing way, and his eyes would shoot open. He could evidently sleep through a lot of desperation, but he COULDN’T rest much longer once the acid had decided to scorch its way up his back. No matter how deeply he’d been sleeping, once the sensation of boiling, caustic agony had flared beneath his ribs for long enough, he’d be wide awake. The worst thing about that was how he still got… Vocal when that degree of agony slammed into him. It made him yelp and cringe audibly. Depending on how bad it was, he might even shout. He couldn’t stay quiet in those moments, the harsh, acrid burn corroding his insides was just too much to withstand in silence. The first several times he woke up that way, his hands kneaded between his legs so tight that they were going numb as the bitter acid tried to rip him apart, he’d gotten lucky. Bulma hadn’t been next to him, she’d already gotten up and gone to the shower. So, when that humiliating, wounded noise slipped from his lips, she hadn’t HEARD. He’d sat up, rocking against his clenched palms for a second to at least TRY and reign some of the agony in. And, once he finally felt confident in his ability to move, he’d gone to the door and knocked on it, fighting to keep the pathetic urgency from his tone as he ordered Bulma to hurry up. She didn’t need to know that he could get so desperate that it hurt him as badly as some of Kakarot’s attacks could. But, eventually, his luck ran out. He shot awake feeling like he had two massive spears jammed through both his kidneys, and when he tried to sit up, it was like he was sloshing even more smoldering fluid up into them. The torment was so horrific, and as usual he moaned out loud; “Haaannnh— Ahh—!” But, Bulma had still been in bed. And, since Vegeta was incapable of doing anything softly even when he WANTED to, the noise he’d made had woken her up. “Vegeta, are you—“ She rubbed her eyes, looking him over. The sight was kind of surprising. She’d never seen him display so much desperation before. He was folded over on himself, hands wedged in the crease of his body, legs trembling. Bulma had seen him accidentally grab at his crotch a few times, but he’d always yanked the hand back away quickly, ashamed of what he’d done. He wasn’t letting go now. And, what was that weird, strangled noise he’d made? She knew he definitely didn’t WANT to be seen like this, so she turned the other way. “Oh…” Vegeta wanted to straighten himself out, he wanted to stand up and walk to the restroom in a way that looked completely normal, and fine, and not about to fall apart. It was so difficult just getting out of bed, though! And when he eased one hand away from the vice grip it had over his crotch, he felt a burning heat directly at his opening and placed the hand BACK in a panic. He stood there for a few seconds, trying to regain enough control to start walking. Bulma realized he wasn’t moving and, for a second, horror seized her. When she realized she didn’t hear any hissing sounds, she relaxed. Was it just making it hard for him to move? Did he need some— It didn’t matter if Vegeta NEEDED help or not, there was no chance that he’d actually ACCEPT any. Bulma stood up anyway. She came to his side. “Are you okay?” She repeated, placing a hand gently against his lower back, and— Vegeta jerked away hurriedly, his breath hitching and another odd sound squeezing out past his clenched teeth. “Nnnh—!” He finally started to move then, hurrying on stiff legs to the restroom. Bulma heard the lock being put in place, followed by more panicked breathing and shuffling. That… Wasn’t how Vegeta acted when he was just being stubborn and wanted to prove he didn’t need assistance or sympathy; He hadn’t yelled at her. It was more like her touch had somehow caused him pain. How in the world could SHE have hurt Vegeta that badly?! The man continued to fight when he had broken bones! She’d BARELY even touched him! She could understand it if her hand had been near his bladder, but it HADN’T been… In the restroom, Vegeta was trying to steady himself enough to actually pee. His heart was thundering hard, he felt dizzy and nauseas, and like every one of his internal organs was flooded with acid. The pressure was everywhere, and his back was still so— Ah, fuck! He hadn’t thought that the kidney pain could be made WORSE. But, it could! He’d never been touched RIGHT THERE after the aching had begun. Now that he knew what even a LIGHT touch felt like, he was thankful his opponents usually attacked him from the FRONT during battles. He’d always thought that, when he had to fight while holding it in, his lower abdomen became his most vulnerable spot. Now he knew that wasn’t true. Once his kidneys decided to start exploding, ANY touch to that area would be a cruel and unusual punishment. The pain still hadn’t subsided. To his frustration, it hurt so much that he couldn’t pee. He kept tensing up every time his back flared, holding muscles clenching against his will. When his bladder decided to cede and began to drain, even just those first stinging spurts felt amazing compared to what he’d been experiencing in the moments leading up to them. He strained for a few more seconds and at last managed to get his stream to burst forth completely. Finally, it was done, it was all going to come out now, he didn’t need to FORCE it. This was the only time he was HAPPY that he didn’t have to continue fighting with something. This opponent wasn’t phased by any of his usual tactics, battling it was just a horrendous chore, each victory against it bittersweet since he knew it was only a matter of time before he had to do it all over again. At least he could feel good in THIS moment, though. He felt wonderful, the stone of his bladder cracking and going soft, the pressure lightening up more and more with each second. ‘This is one of the good parts,’ he reminded himself. ‘You have the strongest bladder in the universe— Ten times the size of Kakarot’s! And when you finally DO get to empty it, it feels great.’ It wasn’t all bad… This enemy was tougher than anything he’d faced before, but every time he defeated it, he was always handsomely rewarded. Vegeta struggled to turn off the embarrassment he felt over how enjoyable this was. It was such an embarrassing function, the way it made him want to moan with pleasure was aggravating. Sometimes he had to shut his eyes to help him forget himself a little bit, to let the pleasure overpower the shame it brought him. Outside, Bulma started to worry again. That noise Vegeta had made when he’d woken up had been concerning, his reaction to being touched so gently was troubling, and now he was… He’d been going for a VERY long time, even for him. He’d actually paused a couple times and Bulma had assumed he’d finally finished, but then the hiss picked back up again. She tried NOT to stress about it. Obviously, Vegeta COULD hold that much. If he was actually overflowing himself, then he wouldn’t have… ‘made it’ in time. His bladder just had an unusually high capacity, and that made sense; He was an alien. She shouldn’t EXPECT his body to work exactly like a human’s did. He did PLENTY of other things that a human wouldn’t be able to survive. She still kept comparing him to Goku, though. Were Saiyans SUPPOSED to vary that wildly when it came to bladder sizes? True, she only had TWO to base that off of, and maybe BOTH of them were outliers, but… Trunks could wait longer than most eight year olds, she supposed. So, maybe it was just their biology. Maybe Vegeta wasn’t causing his body any internal damage. She heard the toilet flushing and the sink running. Finally, he was done… That must have taken more than five minutes. Last night, before bed, had he forgotten to— Vegeta came back out, red in the face. He was ALWAYS blushing after he’d finished peeing, even after all the progress he’d made the embarrassment kept clinging to him anyway. “Are you okay?” Bulma asked once more. She really wished he’d learn to answer that question truthfully. She wasn’t even sure why she kept ASKING it. “Did I hurt you somehow before?” “Of course you didn’t,” Vegeta scoffed. “Just… Don’t touch me there when I’m… You know.” ‘Don’t touch his back when he needs to pee,’ Bulma thought. That was strange… She knew Saiyans had bladders in the same spot humans did— Not in the back. “Why your back?” Vegeta looked at her, confused. “What do you mean?” “What’s wrong with touching your back when you have to—“ “O—Only when it’s… Intense,” Vegeta qualified. “You know.” “No, Vegeta. I DON’T know. What are you talking about?” “Don’t be obtuse. You DO know exactly what I’m—“ “I don’t,” Bulma insisted. Vegeta tensed his fists. “I can’t believe you want me to say it… Y—You know! When it gets… urgent, and so you start to feel it—“ “Vegeta, are you trying to say that, when you need to pee badly enough, you have pain in your back?” Vegeta rolled his eyes. “Yes. That’s how it WORKS.” That wasn’t how it was SUPPOSED to work at all… “Where exactly IS the pain? What part of your back?” “… Starts really low, then it moves to right below my ribs.” “Vegeta, that’s where your kidneys are!” “I am AWARE of that.” “That’s… Really bad,” Bulma said, worry increasing again. He clearly thought that the feeling was normal, that everyone had it and that, at most, he just got it more often than most people did. He thought it was normal, which meant he felt it all the time. He was consistently damaging himself all the time. He WAS holding his bladder until it overflowed, but since the mental block was so strong, instead of it spraying out of him, it moved back UP. “H—How often does that—“ “It’s only when I’m… Uh… ‘Bursting’.” When did Vegeta actually CONSIDER himself to be ‘bursting’? Doubtless long after anyone else would have. “That’s… I don’t have that happen. Ever. Not even when it’s an emergency. That isn’t supposed to happen.” Vegeta thought that over for a second, then decided “It must only happen to Saiyans.” Bulma didn’t think so. If the pain was so bad that it made Vegeta yell, then if GOKU had ever felt it, he would have TALKED about it. Bulma had seen Goku desperate plenty of times, and he was VOCAL. She knew that, if he’d ever experienced back pain, he would have mentioned it. “Does this happen to Goku?” Vegeta shrugged. When he’d been fused with Kakarot, one of the first things he’d been asked was ‘Vegeta, why do I feel it in my back?!’ So, he figured that meant he was unfamiliar with it. “Well, no. But that is to be expected. As you saw, my ability to restrain myself far exceeds that of Kakarot.“ Bulma sighed. “I doubt that’s the only reas—“ Bulma was cut off by a knock on the bedroom door. Bulma went to open it, finding Trunks, still in his pajamas, holding his pillow against himself. His expression was troubled, brows furrowed, cheeks pink, eyes wide. “It’s early, Trunks,” she said. “Are you alright?” Trunks just stood there. After a few seconds, he started to shake his head. “What’s wrong?” Trunks squeezed his pillow harder. “I… Um… I… Can I talk to Dad?” Bulma wasn’t sure what Trunks thought he’d GET out of that. He was obviously upset about something, and Vegeta didn’t even know how to have discussions like that. (Case in point; the one Trunks had just interrupted.) Bulma nodded anyway, and encouraged Vegeta to go speak with their son. Out in the hallway, Vegeta abruptly demanded; “What is it?” Trunks fidgeted in place, fingers digging into the material of his pillow. “Um… Dad… I… Uh… I…” “Out with it,” Vegeta said. “I haven’t got all day.” Trunks flinched. “It’s… I just… It’s… I…” “If you don’t explain yourself, I’m just going to—“ Vegeta stopped abruptly, noticing Trunks’s eyes starting to shine with tears. Dammit… Why the Hell did it have to hurt HIM so much to see TRUNKS upset? For whatever reason, it pained him greatly. It made him feel like HE was the one who’d been hurt. Maddening. He made his voice sound as gentle as he could, which he knew still wasn’t particularly warm, but it was better than how he usually spoke. “Trunks, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” Gah, now Vegeta sounded like Kakarot did when he was trying to get him to admit he needed something. “I…” Trunks sniffled. “I… I peed the bed…” he confessed. Oh… Recollections of that awful night flooded back to Vegeta. The abysmal shame that had coursed through him, the horror at the realization that such a thing could even HAPPEN to him, the humiliation, the failure, the memories of Frieza… His earlier fears that Trunks could develop his own ‘problem’ slammed into him as well. THIS could make Trunks associate urination with embarrassment and weakness. THAT was how it started, Trunks could end up inheriting the one thing Vegeta didn’t want to pass down to him. Vegeta couldn’t let that happen… “This is the first time you’ve done it since you were very little,” he stated. There. THAT should make Trunks feel better! Since it had been so long, he’d realize this was a fluke— Just like how Vegeta’s one indiscretion had been a fluke— He’d be able to move on and forget about it, like Vegeta was trying to. But, instead, Trunks just cried more. “I know! Why’s it happening again?!” Okay, so that wasn’t the right thing to say… Vegeta TRIED to remember what HIS father had said to him the couple times he’d wet the bed as a toddler. Had father said anything? He couldn’t recall it, it was SO long ago! All he could remember was what Frieza had said! “It’s alright, Trunks,” Vegeta said. He was trying to do the OPPOSITE of Frieza, but he felt so far out of his depth. Frieza’s treatment of him over his one accident and couple bed-wetting incidents was largely responsible for his bladder breaking. He was sure that doing the REVERSE would keep Trunks’s confidence from shattering, but just repeating ‘It’s okay’ to him over and over again didn’t seem to be doing much good. “It’s NOT,” Trunks kept insisting. “I’m WAY too old to do this! Goten doesn’t even do it, and he’s younger!” The worst part was that Vegeta could think of one thing he could say now that WOULD make Trunks feel a whole lot better… No way in Hell could he say it, though. He’d never be able to look his son in the eye afterwards. So, he kept telling Trunks that it would be alright, that he’d likely never do it again, that he could wash off and pretend it hadn’t ever happened. But, none of it was cheering Trunks up, he was just blushing, shaking and radiating shame. WHY had he asked for Vegeta?! Bulma was SO much better at these… ‘emotion’ things! The ONLY other thing he could think to tell Trunks was COMPLETELY off-limits! Trunks saw Vegeta exactly how Vegeta always WANTED to be seen. In Trunks’s eyes, Vegeta was the strongest, the coolest, the best. Trunks looked up to him, he couldn’t tarnish that view, especially not with something THIS disgraceful! “Goten’s gonna find out when we fuse,” Trunks sniffled. “He’s gonna make fun of me.” “Wha—“ “I won’t be able to stop thinking about it!” Trunks said. “He’ll hear my thoughts, and he’ll know!” That WAS a cause for concern. What if Vegeta ever had to fuse with Kakarot again? Vegeta wouldn’t deliberately think about that night, of course, he wanted to forget all about it! But, sometimes when he tried NOT to think of something, it became all he COULD think about. He knew what would happen, he’d fuse with Kakarot and, no matter what else was going on, the first thing on his mind would be; ‘Don’t you dare think about that night you wet the bed.’ And Kakarot would respond; ‘What?! You wet the bed, Vegeta?!’ He could easily imagine Trunks doing the same thing, and he fused with Goten all the time, even when it wasn’t necessary. For some reason, he ENJOYED doing it. “Well…” Vegeta struggled for a second. “Goten is Kakarot’s spawn, he probably DOES wet the bed all the time, but he just doesn’t tell you.” Trunks shook his head, sniffling. “No, we were in the time chamber together for months, remember? He NEVER did it.” His breath hitched. “He’s going to laugh!” Gaaah, what was Vegeta SUPPOSED to say?! Was he supposed to just tell Trunks that this WASN’T something to be ashamed of? He’d be lying to him! It WAS shameful! It was pathetic, it was weak and— Vegeta realized he was only thinking those things in relation to HIMSELF. He saw HIMSELF as pathetic, weak and shameful for wetting the bed, but he didn’t actually see TRUNKS that way at all. He didn’t think he was capable of viewing Trunks as weak. Trunks was HIS son, any child of his would HAVE to be amazing. Trunks probably wasn’t capable of viewing HIM as weak, either. He was his dad… “I—It’s okay,” Vegeta said again. “It was just— One time, and it’s… Fine that it happened to you at this age.” Shit, was he really going to do this? Wasn’t there ANYTHING else he could say instead?! “It… It even happened to me once.” Trunks rubbed some tears from his face. “When you were EIGHT?” Vegeta felt some tension ease. Not much, but enough to be noticeable. It was so rare he experienced that sort of sensation that it took him by surprise for a second. Maybe he could get away with NOT telling the full truth here. “Yes. I was the same age as you,” he rushed out. “Exactly. I was eight.” “Really?” Trunks looked up at him, and he DID seem to believe it. Good. Vegeta was NOT going to admit how old he’d actually been, and he didn’t NEED to. “You were out in space then, right?” Vegeta glanced away. “Yes. I was in space. Because I was eight.” “Were you dreaming about waterfalls? I was, and then I—“ “Such details are not important!” Vegeta interrupted. “Wha—What IS important is… I figured out how to stop it from EVER happening again— That was really easy for me, of course. I’m probably the first person that’s ever come up with something like—“ “How?” Trunks whined. “I don’t wanna do it again…” “It’s easy,” Vegeta said. “In your dream, were there others with you?” “Yeah, Goten was there.” “But, did you sense his chi?” Trunks didn’t reply for a second, then he shook his head. “I didn’t. That’s how to tell if I’m dreaming, right?” “Yes,” Vegeta said. “So just… Pay attention to that, and you won’t have this problem anymo—“ “Wait… But, I thought you couldn’t sense chi until after you met Goten’s dad… And by then you were way older than—“ “I— I used a different method back then! I— Had my scouter still, and— It was VERY advanced technology, so if you went to sleep with it on you’d be able to see the readings in your dreams.” “Oh,” Trunks said. “Do you still have one? I wanna try tha—“ “My last one got destroyed a long time ago,” Vegeta said. “And, Earth doesn’t seem to have the materials needed to make more.” “Aw… Well, I feel better anyway. Thanks, Dad!” * When Vegeta went back to his bedroom, Bulma asked what had been wrong. “Trunks had an… He got his sheets wet,” Vegeta explained. Somehow, admitting that Trunks had peed his bed took almost as much out of him as admitting that HE’D done it… “I taught him how to tell whether he’s dreaming or not.” “Alright,” Bulma said. “Is he okay?” “I guess so.” “And… did you remember HOW to load the washer?” “… Huh?” “Please tell me you DIDN’T just leave all the wet sheets in his room.” “I didn’t go to his room. Was I supposed to do that?” “YES, Vegeta! When your son wets the bed, you’re SUPPOSED to help him clean up!” “How was I supposed to know that?!” Bulma rolled her eyes. “A very ancient and powerful technique called ‘common sense’!” “… Okay, so I take the sheets off his bed, and then what do I—“ Bulma trudged to the door, “FINE. I’ll do it!” * After everything with Trunks, Vegeta had forgotten about the conversation he and Bulma had been having. But, Bulma remembered it perfectly well. She remembered that Vegeta was putting himself at risk of serious harm. He… Did that all of the time, though. He took off to fight people that were able to deal him all sorts of horrible injuries, and he did it with a smirk on his face. Then, when all was said and done and he’d gotten so battered that he could barely move, he’d eat a senzu bean or have Dende heal him so that he could do it all over again. Risking his life and well-being was just how Vegeta operated. Bulma had needed to learn to live with that, it was the way of life for most of her friends. That meant she should stop worrying about the damage he was causing his urinary system. Breaking his body parts was just what Vegeta DID. But, with this one thing, Bulma couldn’t let it go. It took her a while to figure out why it bothered her so much, when she just kind of accepted all the other dangerous things Vegeta did. The senzu bean had been unable to cure his infection, which indicated the beans wouldn’t fix any health problems that arose from this. If Vegeta ruptured his bladder, or anything like that, she didn’t even know if Dende would be able to heal him afterwards. He’d need to be brought to an actual hospital, which he’d HATE. And, if he made himself seriously sick, if he had an infection that spread to his kidneys, and it became fatal… The dragon balls couldn’t bring people back to life if they died from natural causes. She knew she was probably over-dramatizing. The odds of Vegeta literally DYING from complications relating to his bladder-issue were very, very low. The worst case scenario was, more likely, hospitalization and all that that would entail for him. She tried to picture how Vegeta might emotionally HANDLE being in the emergency room while a group of medical professionals devoted all of their attention to him and his bladder’s functions. She couldn’t imagine him even being ABLE to handle it. But, he’d never needed to go to the hospital over this before, AND he was slowly getting better. Realistically, he was going to be fine. The worst wouldn’t come to pass. It still disturbed her that his problem was evidently SO severe that he couldn’t even have an accident when his body desperately NEEDED him to. It made her want to step up the effort in curing him. It made her want to push him farther, to find a way to rid him of this once and for all. But, it all felt so precarious. Too much, and he’d likely go backwards again. Too little, and he wouldn’t improve. This was probably the same sort of dilemma he faced when deciding how best to train his body, only even more complicated because SHE was trying to train his brain to act in a new way. Bulma had to shove him a little further from his comfort zone. He still had never made any ATTEMPT to use a public restroom. He ALWAYS flew home instead. She could do absolutely NOTHING to convince him to try. Every time she suggested it, he scoffed “What’s the point? It will take me less than a minute to get home from here.” She always argued that it still sounded like an awful hassle, but that did no good. Bulma was going to find some way to get him to try it. Even if he wasn’t able to go— If he just TRIED, that would be a step up from where he was now. There apparently WAS a degree of desperation that was so severe it took away Vegeta’s ability to fly. She’d been able to figure that much out, since sometimes when they argued about it, he’d accidentally bark something out like “If I don’t leave NOW, it might not work later!” Bulma didn’t know how she’d be able to keep him grounded until he REACHED that point, though. And, it would also be extremely cruel to him. She needed to get him somewhere far, FAR away from the house, and preferably somewhere that wasn’t near any kind of wilderness— Vegeta was apparently so uncomfortable with Earth’s public restrooms that he had an easier time relieving himself outside. She then needed to make sure he STAYED there for a while. All the times they’d needed to gather dragon balls, they’d ended up going all over the place. If she sent Vegeta out to get them, then she was sure that at SOME point he’d be in a situation where he’d NEED to try using a public toilet. That would work. She’d tell him she wanted them collected just in case they needed them soon. She’d insist Goku go with him, since whatever Goku was doing to assist him WAS helping. With any luck, he’d be FORCED to push himself like she wanted. *** “What do you even want the balls for?” Vegeta demanded. “And do I HAVE to go with that damned Kakarot?!” “Just in case,” Bulma said. “Probably best to have them on-hand if anything happens and we need the dragon, right? And Goku already HAS some of them, so you may as well take him along.” “Well, why do I have to get them?” “Because, if we end up needing to fight someone for a couple, we need someone STRONG to do that.” “Fine…” Vegeta huffed. “Guess you HAVE to send me, then…” Edited April 25 by secretomoact (see edit history)
Kakarot already had four of the dragon balls, giving them a decent head-start. For the next one, they had to travel far up to the North, and Vegeta ran into his first major problem then. As the temperature around him dropped, it became much harder to fly. The freezing wind made his skin prickle and sting. They’d gotten coats for the weather, but it wasn’t helping too much. Kakarot somehow managed not to be phased by the cold. HE was flying just fine. Unacceptable. Vegeta could handle this WAY better than Kakarot… “I came up here once when I was little,” Goku said. “The plane I was in crashed, but this girl dug me out of the snow, and—“ He paused, looking behind himself. Vegeta was lagging, and… fidgeting. “Are you okay?” “F—Fine, Kakarot…” Vegeta insisted. “C—Can we j—just get this d—done?” They landed, and Vegeta didn’t feel any better once he was out of the air. He shook and shivered violently, hopping between his feet to try to warm his legs up some. He crossed his arms and rubbed them. Kakarot remaining so unbothered by the cold just infuriated him. Kakarot didn’t look distressed at all, as if he plodded through ice-boxes all the time… Kakarot looked at him, gaze stilling on his legs. “Um, Vegeta… If you need to go, you CAN just tell me, remember?” Vegeta noticed what he was doing, and that it probably DID look like he was desperate to relieve himself. He didn’t need to pee at all, though. Well… Maybe a little, the uncontrollable shivers were sort of irritating his bladder and making its walls squeeze inwards, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. If he managed to piss out here it would probably freeze to his dick on the way out anyway. “Th—That’s not a concern n—now, Kakarot,” Vegeta said irritably. “Where is the st—stupid ball?” Goku paused. Vegeta REALLY looked like he was desperate. He hoped his friend wasn’t intending to hold it until they had the last three balls gathered. That could take a while… He could also sense Vegeta’s chi kind of wavering. Not a lot, but enough to be noticeable. That didn’t usually happen. Goku felt a little silly a moment later. When Vegeta needed to pee, he generally LOOKED like he was just really cold. The coat he had on wasn’t enough to keep him warm. Goku felt fine with what he had on, but he’d never been in this area with Vegeta before, he didn’t know how well he handled such things. “You’re cold?” He asked. “O—Of course n—not,” Vegeta insisted, rubbing his arms more frantically. He was starting to wonder if he should start charging an energy attack. He didn’t have anything to throw it at, but his body always heated up really fast when he did that. “It’s fine if you are. The first time I was up here I nearly froze to death,” Kakarot said. “Like I said, somebody had to carry me inside. If you wanna warm up, you can walk close to me and I can put my arm around y—“ “I would rather die of hypothermia!” Vegeta interrupted, horrified. Gah! He would never… NEVER ‘cuddle’ with Kakarot! No way in Hell! He only even let BULMA do that when he was too sleepy to put up a fuss about it. “Hippo— Thermite—“ “It means that I would prefer freezing to death over… Doing THAT with the likes of you.” “Why? What’s wrong with it?” Kakarot asked. “It’s not like we’ve never touched each oth—“ “N—Not l—like th—that!” Vegeta snapped. “I w—will let you p—punch me, I w—will let you kick m—me, but I w—will NEVER let you—“ “Hug you?” Kakarot guessed. Vegeta grumbled, shaking more as a blisteringly cold breeze picked up around them. Actually, now he felt like he really DID need to pee, and it was worsening quickly Doubtless the awful temperature was responsible, making his bladder contract every time he shuddered. All the more reason to get out of here. “Wh—Where’s the damn—“ “This way,” Kakarot said. “Are you sure you’re okay like that?” “I—I’m f—fine, Kakarot! Stop asking!” “Because, if you wanted me to help you warm up, I won’t tell anybody.” “Yes, but I w—would know,” Vegeta said. “And th—that would be enough.” The dragon radar pinged, showing the ball was located underwater. “Dammit…” Vegeta muttered. Shaking hands went to remove his coat. “What are you doing?!” Kakarot asked. “Let me get it, you’re—“ “You don’t think I can handle a little cold?” Vegeta demanded, furious. “B—Because I c-can!” He started to unbutton his coat— Tried to, anyway. His fingers didn’t really feel like bending, and they were shaking a bit too much for him to control what he was doing. His body felt strange, his chi was still shuddering, his vision was sort of foggy, and his need to urinate was spiking sharply. But, he HAD to make himself do this. He’d never felt this cold before, had never felt like his blood was turning solid. It felt so awful that he knew if he didn’t fight through it now, he’d never build up a tolerance to it. What if there came a day where he NEEDED to endure a little cold to win a battle? He couldn’t let an opponent defeat him because his body had trouble coping with low temperatures. If he went underwater now, got himself all wet when he was already so cold, then he’d be training himself. If he waited to the side while Kakarot did it, he’d accomplish nothing. Once his coat was off, something in the back of his mind started to scream that he was being ridiculous, that Kakarot was right, that what he was about to do was dangerous and would end terribly. Glacial air nipped at his arms and he hesitated when he was about to remove his gloves. He knew it would take them ages to dry if he wore them in the water, but his hands were… Screw it, his hands needed to be trained as well. He tore them off, his fingers stinging with the bitter frost. He needed to push through this, this was just another form of training. “S—See?” He said. “Perfectly f—fine!” He got into the water, and he immediately felt like he was being chewed apart, bitten into. His bladder spasmed in response to every piercing jolt of subzero chills. He ignored every pain as best he could, determined to make it through. Goku watched in dismay. Sometimes, he couldn’t understand Vegeta at all. This was one of those times. What was so bad about just admitting he was too cold and letting Goku handle this? What was he trying to prove? Goku KNEW he was struggling, so why did he need to— That was probably IT… Goku KNOWING that he was having trouble, that was why he was so hellbent on proving otherwise. Perhaps Goku should have pretended not to notice Vegeta’s shivering? Would that have— Vegeta’s chi wavered again, and Goku was alarmed, but he saw his friend come back up from under the water a second later. Vegeta tossed the dragon ball to the ground and frantically pulled his coat back on, then his gloves, struggling with both thanks to his numb, spasming hands. Goku almost went over to help him when he finally managed it himself. “H—Ha, th—there!” Vegeta said, barely able to get the words out past how much his teeth were chattering. “T—To—Told y—you I—I c—could—“ Vegeta stopped, curling over on himself slightly and rubbing his arms up and down. “Y—Yeah…” Goku said, cautiously coming closer. He wished he had a blanket… “You did it! Good j—“ Vegeta ducked beside Goku and leaned into him urgently, pressing their bodies together. It was like he was acting entirely on instinct, trying to warm himself in whatever way he could, hardly aware of what he was doing. Goku put his arm around him and guided him in closer. He had a feeling that saying anything would end poorly for him. Sure enough, he heard Vegeta mumbling “Wh—What th—the Hell am I d—doing?” But, he did not pull away. “Just, try and warm up,” Goku encouraged. “Let’s sit over here…” Moments later, they were resting further back in the forest, Vegeta still shaking intensely against Goku’s side. “D—Dammit, that was st—stupid, wasn’t it?” Vegeta asked. “Um…” Goku considered. “Are you gonna hit me if I agree with you?” “Later,” Vegeta said. “My hands are… They won’t move. They’re too numb.” “Why did you do that?” Vegeta did his best to explain it, still fighting to speak properly. “J—Just realized I h—have to b—build up my tolerance. I—If you’re h—here without a problem, th—then—“ “Well, I’ve COME here lots of times,” Kakarot said. “Ever since I was little, of course I got used to it. You will t—“ “I— I’m bad with cold,” Vegeta interrupted. “A s—summer day on Earth f—feels like winter on Pl—Planet Vegeta. I—It was always hot th—there. A—And a lot of the planets I’ve b—been to have been cl—close to stars. I’ve n—never adapted to Earth’s climate. “… And you thought you would if you shocked your body enough?” Goku guessed. That… Sort of made sense, in a way. He could see why Vegeta would think that it would work, that if he made himself as cold as he could possibly get, any future chills would feel like nothing by comparison. “Y—Yes,” Vegeta said. “I d—don’t think it worked. Ev—Everything feels… My hands esp—especially have always—“ “Ohhh,” Goku said. “So that’s why you never take your gloves off, your hands are just always cold.” Vegeta managed to glare, the effect somewhat diminished by his shuddering. “Kakarot… What do you THINK gloves are for?” “Well, when you wear them in the summer, I—“ “B—Because, I’ll g—give you a hint; Th—They aren’t a food.” “I KNOW that,” Goku sighed. “Just… Try and feel better, okay?” “Fine…” Vegeta huffed. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. Pressed up against Kakarot, dammit… Why did Kakarot have to be so fucking warm? It was drawing him in, like some kind of curse had been put on him. Why did his eyelids have to feel so heavy, why did he have to be so tired… “So, you never saw snow before you came to Earth?” Vegeta shook his head sleepily. “Aw, that’s too bad. It’s lots of fun.” Vegeta couldn’t think of any reason that this freezing, damp stuff could be ‘fun’. It made the ground a little softer, but that was the only positive. When Goku noticed Vegeta’s breathing evening out, he realized he’d fallen asleep. Goku panicked for a second, but Vegeta’s chi felt normal again so he figured he was alright. He just needed some rest. Vegeta still shook occasionally in his sleep, fidgeting against Goku more and more. Being embraced by Vegeta like that felt really strange. Not in a bad way, since Goku liked hugs. It was just so unfamiliar when it came from Vegeta. Vegeta was NOT cuddly. He was, perhaps, the LEAST cuddly person Goku could name. Bulma said that the first time SHE’D ever embraced him had been “like trying to hug a cactus that is screaming at you”. Goku knew he was only doing this now because he was so cold, and that he wasn’t aware of what his body did when he was asleep. He’d NEVER nuzzle Goku like this if he was alert and warm. Goku was actually a little nervous about how Vegeta would react once he HAD woken up and seen what he was doing. He prepared himself for accusations, and a whole lot of threats. Goku was sleepy too, though. He could deal with that later… *** Vegeta was on Frieza’s space-ship. How the Hell did he end up back here again? Frieza was dead, and Vegeta hadn’t been employed by him for a long time.   Hold on… Vegeta shut his eyes and focused. He failed to pick up on Frieza’s energy, nor could he sense anyone else that he was sure would be aboard this ship. Of course, this was a dream. He should have realized that to begin with. Ever since Vegeta had learned how to tell if he was dreaming, he’d come to really enjoy it. He knew he could NEVER repeat the humiliation of that awful night again, if he had to pee and knew he was asleep, then he’d force himself awake somehow. But, aside from that, being AWARE of his dreams meant that he was a lot more in control of them. Once he realized he was asleep, that meant he could do ANYTHING he wanted, and nothing could stand in his way. So far, he’d dreamt about transforming into a Super Saiyan 3 ten times, about utterly wiping the floor with Kakarot fifteen times, and about killing Frieza thirty times. Since THIS dream was set on Frieza’s ship, Vegeta already knew what he was going to do. Now, what would be the best way to kill Frieza this time? So far, his favorite dreams had been the ones in which he’d humiliated Frieza in some way. Usually, he did this by completely overpowering him and forcing him to beg for mercy while dozens watched. “No— Please, great Prince Vegeta! You’re too strong! Please let me live! I promise, I’ll obey you for the rest of my life!” Smirking to himself, Vegeta decided he’d enter the boardroom. When he’d ACTUALLY worked for Frieza, there had often been long, tedious meetings there where Frieza yammered about the solar systems he wished to conquer. By killing him in THAT room, Vegeta would have an audience, plus he’d get to destroy a part of Frieza’s ship along with him. If only he’d learned how to tell his dreams and reality apart sooner. This was so much fun! Plus, he hadn’t had a SINGLE nightmare since he’d started doing this. … Not that Vegeta even HAD nightmares to begin with. Of course he didn’t! How could he, when nothing scared him? He headed to the boardroom. Frieza was stood at the front, the Ginyus seated before him, along with Nappa and Raditz. Frieza paused his speech to shoot Vegeta a very sharp glare. “My, my, how nice of you to finally join us, Vegeta.” Stupid, smarmy little… Vegeta was going to ENJOY this… Frieza kept scowling, “You know, I could kill you right now for your lateness. But, I won’t do it this time. Consider this your only warning.” Vegeta didn’t reply. Frieza’s words sounded oddly familiar to him, like he’d heard them once before, but that didn’t faze him. He wasn’t the one in danger of death right now. He raised one arm out and opened his palm, preparing to gather some energy. He was going to shoot Frieza and severely damage this room, but he wasn’t going to kill him just yet. He wanted Frieza to beg first. The begging was the best par— Wait… Why wasn’t this… Confused, Vegeta tried to concentrate again. He couldn’t figure out why the energy sphere hadn’t started to form yet. This was HIS dream, he controlled everything that happened in it, right? And, right now all he wanted was— “What are you doing?” Frieza snapped. “Sit down, or I’m going to reconsider my decision to let you live.” Still perplexed, Vegeta found himself following Frieza’s order. Obeying Frieza again! Even when he knew full-well that this was a dream! It was, wasn’t it? Or, were all of his OTHER memories the dream? Had he just gone to sleep on Frieza’s ship one night and imagined everything that happened afterwards? He couldn’t sense anyone around him, but back when he’d worked for Frieza he just hadn’t been able to feel other people’s chi at all… Again, he tried to focus once more. He COULD sense some energy, faintly. He could sense Kakarot was somewhere close by. He had no idea how he’d managed to fall asleep next to Kakarot, but knowing he was THERE was enough proof that this WAS just a dream. And, since it was a dream, Vegeta could do whatever he wanted! Why wouldn’t his attacks work? Why— He suddenly became aware of something a little more irritating than the fact that his dream wasn’t cooperating with him. His bladder was aching, and a piercing throb made him tense up. He felt his neck prickle, being desperate in front of Frieza— even a FAKE Frieza conjured up by his imagination— was never a good thing. Right. Time to wake up, then. Vegeta thought he’d gotten good at rousing himself whenever he had to go in a dream. He’d just force his chi to spike, which would get his adrenaline pumping. He’d be wide awake within a few seconds. Except, just as he hadn’t been able to build any energy up in his palm, he couldn’t get it to flare through his body, either. For some reason, he couldn’t control his chi at all. He felt disconnected from his body somehow— From part of it, anyway. He was feeling a little TOO connected to his bladder at the moment. He tried pinching his thigh, which did absolutely nothing. So, instead he tried punching his chest. He still didn’t wake up, and only earned another glare from Frieza. “It would be wise of you to hold still while I am speaking.” Vegeta was furious with himself for nodding. He knew this wasn’t the real Frieza, that the real one was dead and gone, and that this facsimile couldn’t do anything to him. Yet, Vegeta felt intimidated by that hissing, firm voice anyway. Not being able to use his powers, not being able to control his dream like he usually could, it was leaving him confused and uncomfortable. Having a full bladder just made it worse, and it enraged him to know that all he had to do to ALLEVIATE the burgeoning pressure was to wake himself up. If he simply OPENED HIS EYES then he’d be able to take care of this. He pinched himself once more, but remained trapped here. Frieza was beginning to display some holographic images of some planet he wanted conquered. Naturally, since Vegeta’s brain hated him for some reason, the planet was covered in waterfalls, geysers and lakes. All of the things Vegeta DIDN’T want to think about. Vegeta thought he recognized that planet, actually. He could remember the mission he’d gone on to it. He wished he didn’t. He’d been lucky enough to have the opportunity to pee right before getting into his space-pod, but by the time they’d arrived he sort of wanted to go again. ‘Sort of wanting’ to pee turned into ‘desperately needing’ to pee rather quickly when surrounded by so much water. Raditz and Nappa had relieved themselves several times while Vegeta tried his best to ignore the pangs and keep still. It got so bad that a tiny part of him started to wonder if he should just forget about his ‘image’ for a second and let himself go the next time they stopped. He’d been disgusted by the thought, but when a few more hours passed as he was walking with his knees together and his tail twisting in every direction, he realized the others might notice how uncomfortable he was. He’d decided it would be best to just go, before it got worse, before his behavior became too obvious. So, when Raditz and Nappa stopped, Vegeta was about to say something like “I suppose I’ll go too, since you both insist on wasting so much time.” To his dismay, he found that the words wouldn’t come out, instead there was just this… Weird feeling. The same one he’d gotten when he was little and had seen Frieza threatening his father. The feeling had shamed him greatly and, unwilling to risk it taking roost inside him, he turned around and resolved to hold it. He COULD hold it, he shouldn’t have even been considering peeing out here. He was stronger than Nappa and Raditz combined, HE could wait until the end of the mission. He wasn’t so weak that he had to relieve his bladder right here. Where… Where Raditz and Nappa would both— He was STRONGER than them, he was going to prove it by not peeing. How DARE he even THINK about going here?! He didn’t need to! He never needed to! He was too powerful to have needs! As Vegeta told himself these things, the weird feeling faded away from him. His bladder still hurt, and the inescapable sight and sound of running water was making him utterly miserable, but the pressure blaring within him was far better than that OTHER sensation. When the other two finished up, and Raditz had commented that he couldn’t believe Vegeta STILL didn’t have to go, Vegeta folded his arms and said; “Of course I don’t! I’m far more disciplined than EITHER of you! You’re lucky I even allow you to take breaks like this!” That had made Vegeta feel somewhat better, but he was wary of what would happen if they didn’t finish soon. Sometimes, Vegeta squirmed around when he was desperate and no one was near him. So far, he’d never slipped up and done that with a witness. At worst, he’d fidgeted his legs a little but if he shouted that he’d gotten a cramp, that was enough to ward off suspicion. With as urgent as his need was getting, he’d begun to get genuinely concerned that his condition would become obvious before long. He’d managed to stay in control until he was back in his pod, free to writhe as much as he damn well pleased. Through the entirety of the ride, he was twisting and squeezing and clenching his eyes closed. He was ashamed to even have his OWN eyes on himself as he flailed so blatantly. Before long, he had both hands pinned between his legs, along with his tail. His tail kind of HURT, but he needed everything he had to quell the pressure. A few times, his bladder had throbbed so harshly that he nearly opened communications to tell Nappa and Raditz that he wanted to stop. His hand simply hovered over the button though, shaking. If he did that, the other Saiyans would know that he had needs… They’d know he was mortifyingly desperate to satiate one of them, they’d think he wasn’t so impressive after all. He could wait… Of course he could. He should be ASHAMED for doubting himself, even for a second! He’d made it back, finally. Standing up out of his pod was one of the worst pains ever, and he felt almost dizzy as he fought against the urge to KEEP squirming. He shook from head to toe, his legs welded against each other, but he was confident that it DIDN’T look like he had to pee. He received confirmation when Nappa had stood beside him, “Vegeta…? You cold?” “V—Very,” Vegeta nodded. His jaw hadn’t been able to stop spasming from the tension, making him stutter. That probably made it more believable. “You and Raditz go notify Frieza o—of our s—success. I m—must get myself s—something warm to drink.” He didn’t want to even THINK about drinks right now, but it was the only excuse he was able to come up with. “Okay,” Nappa had said. “Frieza’s gonna be mad if you don’t show up t—“ “He can d—deal with that himself. I’ll b—be there in a few minutes.” As Nappa and Raditz both left, Vegeta struggled to think of where the nearest place was that he could relieve himself. They’d had a base on this planet for a while, but Vegeta’s sleeping quarters were quite some distance away. The CLOSEST spot was probably the bar, but that place was always so crowded, and the thought of someone seeing him rush to the facilities made that stupid feeling come back. He’d forced himself to fly all the way back to his sleeping area, trying to ignore all of the pains inside his body begging for him to just stop and piss on the ground. He would never do that! What if someone saw? They’d think he wasn’t strong enough to hold it! He WAS strong enough, just a little further… He’d become truly frantic once he was at last in front of a toilet with the door locked. He was tearing at his clothes and jumping in place, the final few seconds of desperation even more extreme than everything leading up to it. Finally, he was out, free to go, and grimacing with the effort it took not to moan at how good it felt. It had ended up taking him so long to finish that his legs were numb by the time it was over. He’d known he’d always remember that mission as one of the worst he’d ever gone on. Even the meeting Frieza had held BEFORE it had been absolutely miserable for h— Vegeta suddenly had an idea of why he couldn’t escape from this dream, and of why he wasn’t able to exert much control over what happened in it. This wasn’t JUST a dream, this was one of his memories being replayed. Years ago, Vegeta really HAD gotten desperate during one of Frieza’s meetings, and that meeting had been in regards to the stupid water planet mission that had tortured his bladder. In real life, when this had actually happened, Vegeta had showed up late BECAUSE he’d needed to pee. He’d been trying to go before heading to the meeting, but all of the restrooms on the ship had people near them who’d see him go in. So, he’d run out of time, gotten here late, been threatened by Frieza, and nervously sat down to avoid enraging the tyrant further. Then, he’d had to hold it for SEVERAL more long hours while Frieza babbled… Vegeta had no intention of reliving that, so he concentrated once more on waking himself up. He still couldn’t grab hold of his energy, though, couldn’t send it shooting through his body, couldn’t ignite the flood of adrenaline that he KNEW would have him up and alert right away. He didn’t understand why his adrenaline hadn’t started pumping on its OWN yet. Surely the idea of wetting himself in his sleep again should have done it. Could he control this dream enough to make something show up that would startle him? Vegeta certainly wasn’t afraid of worms, because THAT would be ridiculous, but maybe if a giant one suddenly slammed through the wall or something, it would be so surprising that— His bladder spasmed roughly again. He clenched his thighs up and bounced one of his legs rapidly. He glanced surreptitiously around the room to ensure no one was watching, then felt rather silly. It wouldn’t matter if anyone was looking at him. No one in this room was real. He could squirm as much as he wanted. He crossed his legs back and forth and allowed his hands to knead themselves against his crotch. As he shifted, his urgency dissipated slightly. This indicated that, back in the real world, he was probably fidgeting around in his sleep. That gave him some pause. He could still sense Kakarot, so if he WAS wriggling, Kakarot might notice— Kakarot might notice and SHOVE him until he woke the Hell up… Vegeta would welcome that outcome, even if Kakarot was likely to say something stupid to him once he was awake. (“Vegeta, get up! Hurry! I think you have to pee really bad!”) Vegeta allowed himself to squirm more, wriggling his legs and tightening his grip on his crotch. He hoped that his body in the waking world was moving in a similar way, and anticipated the feeling of Kakarot jerking him by the shoulders. “Vegeta!” Frieza snapped suddenly. Vegeta froze, and was disappointed when the shock of being yelled at didn’t jar him awake. “I believe I already told you to hold still,” Frieza said. “Do NOT make me ask you again.” Vegeta nodded, “I apologize, Lord Frieza,” he said. “Just… Just a cramp.” This was another part of the memory. In real life, Vegeta HAD started to fidget, maybe not quite to THIS degree, but enough to garner Frieza’s ire. In real life, when he’d been called out on his squirming, he’d instantly felt so humiliated that he’d spat out the first excuse he could come up with. “I don’t care if you’re uncomfortable,” Frieza said. “Stop distracting me.” “Won’t happen again,” Vegeta said. And, he actually tried to still himself. He had no idea why. Frieza couldn’t harm him here. In fact, maybe provoking Frieza into lashing out would give him the adrenaline rush he needed to get out of here. For some reason, Vegeta just kept repeating the same actions he could recall making when this event had actually taken place. He knew what to anticipate if he didn’t wake himself up. Several more hours of impatiently holding it as he tried not to contort too obviously. By the end, he was going to be curled up on himself, as close to the table in front of him as he could get, to shield the iron grip he had on his dick. At last, they would be dismissed, but he still wouldn’t be freed from his torment for at least one MORE hour as he struggled to find a restroom door no one would witness him going through. And after that… His bladder contracted hard as he was able to remember how good it had felt to pee that day. He remembered how he’d shivered with relief, how he’d needed to keep a hand against the wall to stabilize himself, how it had gone on for minutes and he’d needed a few seconds to compose himself afterwards. Recalling all of that wasn’t doing him any favors now. Agony flared against his opening and he doubled forwards, a leak sloshing out of him. He felt the warmth encasing his dick and knew that the loss of control hadn’t only been in his imagination. In the real world, he’d just peed a bit onto himself. He HAD to wake up NOW— He was going to provoke Frieza again. Scaring himself awake was the only thing he hadn’t tried yet. And, he WANTED to squirm some more anyway. When another leak ebbed out of him he tensed his lower muscles and crossed his legs before allowing them to bounce. Either he’d make the dream Frieza angry enough to try to kill him, or he’d fidget enough that Kakarot would notice and wake him. This would work… Only, NOW Frieza suddenly wasn’t looking at him at all. Instead, he was addressing the Ginyus directly. Vegeta knew how to GET his attention. He just had to SAY something. Complain, out loud, about how badly he needed to pee. He didn’t even need to feel humiliated doing it, none of this was real! But, it seemed Vegeta could not openly discuss his bladder even in his dreams. When he tried to speak, his throat tightened up and all he managed was a pained moan that coincided with another warm rush of liquid soaking his inner thighs. He couldn’t stop leaking, and that was alarming. In real life, when this had ACTUALLY happened, he hadn’t spilled a drop before getting to the toilet. Frieza turned to look at him, and a smile tugged at his lips rather than the deadly scowl Vegeta had been hoping for. THIS hadn’t happened in real life, either. At no point had Frieza smirked at him like that… Vegeta made himself sit up straighter, his abdominal muscles squeezing hard against each other, bearing down on the heavy knot of liquid aching for release. He was slowly losing it now, a small drip emerging every second. He couldn’t believe he was going to wet himself in his sleep again, even while AWARE that he was dreaming! His brain was holding him hostage, refusing to let him wake up. Was he going to relive this entire horrible day before he could get up? That wouldn’t do any good! He was positive that, once he reached the moment where he’d finally been able to empty himself, he would pee for real, full-force. He needed to get up before that happened. Frieza suddenly stopped talking for a second. He gave Vegeta another odd smile, then said; “Perhaps it’s a good time for a break,” he said. “You all have fifteen minutes. Go.” Vegeta watched as the Ginyus and his fellow Saiyans all hurried for the door. Vegeta could recall that, in real life, EVERYONE had been quite uncomfortable by the end of the meeting— Part of why Vegeta had had SUCH a hard time finding a restroom he could use afterwards. But, in real life, Frieza hadn’t stopped for a break. What was causing things to change all of the sudden? DID Vegeta have some control over this dream after all? Maybe if he left this room, he’d be able to wake up? He wasn’t going to go NEAR any restrooms, even if one of them happened to be extra private and look incredibly tempting to him. He expected that to be the case, this dream was trying to torture him, it was going to offer him the PERFECT spot to pee if he gave it the chance. It was going to try to coax him into having an accident… “Vegeta,” Frieza said before Vegeta even started to stand up. “YOU can stay here.” Vegeta looked away. This was HIS dream, he didn’t have to obey Frieza, he could leave if he wanted to, Frieza didn’t control him, Frieza was dead, this wasn’t real, he could— When he decided to stand up and storm out, his body didn’t cooperate. He remained rooted to his spot, his bladder shuddering and making him scissor his legs back and forth. He was squirming so blatantly, in front of Frieza… ‘NOT. REAL,’ he reminded himself. ‘It doesn’t matter’. But, it DID matter to him, he was utterly ashamed. Real or not, he felt so vulnerable and humiliated with Frieza watching over him like this. “Why can’t—“ “Because you can’t,” Frieza stated. “Silly monkey. You KNOW you can’t.” Vegeta wasn’t sure what Frieza meant by that. This dream wasn’t letting him stand up for some reason, was that— “You know that you’re not strong enough,” Frieza told him. “And don’t think I never noticed it.” “Noticed wha—“ “I believe you know,” Frieza said. “One of the reasons I never felt threatened by you. All your yammering about being a ‘super Saiyan’, your insistence that someday you’d defeat me, all the while it was so obvious that you couldn’t accomplish one of the most simple tasks.” Wait… Did Frieza mean he knew about Vegeta’s problem? ‘DREAM Frieza,’ Vegeta thought. Nothing the imaginary version of the tyrant said had any bearing on what the real one knew and didn’t know. No way the real Frieza knew, he definitely would have mentioned it to taunt him at some point. Vegeta couldn’t remember him ever doing that. Right…? Vegeta remembered being seven, a couple years after his planet’s destruction, desperate to pee on Frieza’s ship and trying not to show it. He remembered how he’d been trying to get to a toilet all day, but Raditz just wouldn’t leave him alone and he couldn’t make himself enter the restroom when the other Saiyan was latched to his side and would see him do it. He’d ordered Raditz to screw off multiple times, and he HADN’T. Vegeta had pulled his cape across his front to try and shield his squirming from Raditz, which made walking down the hall without tripping a little trickier. “Leave me alone!” He snapped. “I won’t play with low-class scum like you!” “But we’re the only kids here,” Raditz whined. “I’m bored. Spar with me!” “Weren’t you supposed to have a brother that survived?” Vegeta asked. As he kept pacing, he saw the door to another restroom. He wanted to go in there so bad that it was making him salivate. If only Raditz would leave… “Go find him!” “I don’t even know where he got sent to!” Raditz said. “How’m I supposed to find him?!” “I don’t care! Just stop bugging me!” Vegeta commanded. He shuffled between his feet, sweating. He wanted to yell “I have to go to the bathroom! I’ll deal with you after I’m finished!” But, the words wouldn’t come out. They were just… They were too unseemly for a prince to say, that was it… Frieza had walked down the hall then, he’d sneered at the two young Saiyans, glancing carefully at Vegeta’s feet and the weird way he’d wrapped himself up in his cape. “Hello, ‘Prince’,” he said. “Are you cold? Need something nice and warm to drink…?” Vegeta couldn’t drink anything, he had too much water in him already. He just needed Raditz to go away. And Frieza. He needed both of them gone so he could go inside the restroom without anyone finding out he had to pee… Vegeta shook his head back and forth. “I want some!” Raditz said. Frieza stared at Vegeta for another moment, then sighed. “Very well…” then he and Raditz were walking away. Finally… Vegeta waited for them to leave the hall. Frieza kept looking back at him! Why was he doing that? It was making him itchy! Once he was sure they were gone, he’d hurried to the bathroom. And, really soon after that, Frieza had said “You look much more comfortable now, Vegeta… I wonder what may have been bothering you earlier?” Vegeta remembered another mission from when he’d been older. Frieza had forced him to travel with one of the weakest soldiers, Graype. Frieza insisted that being paired up with an elite would show the new recruit how it was done. Vegeta was instructed not to leave Graype’s side at any point, and that he would be keeping careful watch to ensure he obeyed this command. Then, he’d explained the planet they were going to was very hot, and so it was imperative that they both drink lots of water before embarking. By that point, Vegeta had ALREADY learned to be wary of over-hydrating himself, so it was no small task to get all that liquid down without complaining. The two were off, and when they arrived Vegeta discovered Frieza had been mistaken when he’d said this planet was abnormally warm. It didn’t feel any worse than being on the ship. Which meant that, unless Vegeta got into some really tough fights, he wouldn’t be sweating out much of that water. And he ALREADY had to go… To make matters worse, there were a lot of deep craters on this planet, which would provide adequate privacy if Vegeta wanted to take care of anything. Were it not for the fact that he needed to stay by Graype’s side through this whole trip to evade Frieza’s wrath, he wouldn’t even need to worry. But, Vegeta couldn’t order Graype to go ‘scope out their surroundings’ for a few minutes while he hid somewhere and relieved his bladder. He knew he wasn’t strong enough to defeat Frieza yet, he couldn’t risk being killed for disobedience just because he wanted to pee. And no way in Hell was he going to tell Graype that his bladder was bothering him… Graype admitted that he had to pee after all of the water and the long trip, so Vegeta scoffed, rolled his eyes, and told him to be fast about it. Vegeta was then forced to try to block out the noise as his own need fizzed aggressively inside him. After Graype had finished, he remarked “Even after he made us drink THAT much, you don’t have to go? They weren’t kidding, you ARE strong.” And that had cinched it. Vegeta was NOT going to pee a drop. He waited through the entirety of the mission, the water filtering aggressively through his system and ensuring that he needed to spend the entire flight back with his hands pinched around his dick. But, he hadn’t done that in front of Graype, so it was fine. He’d shown Graype how powerful he was, that was what mattered. When they got back though, all that mattered was getting to a fucking toilet before his bladder had an aneurism. Frieza stopped them, however. He wanted to know how the mission had gone, in complete detail. Vegeta was forced to stand there, hands clamped behind his back so he didn’t grab at himself again, as he rattled off everything Frieza wanted to know. His knees kept rubbing together and his tail kept slapping against the wall beside him. “Vegeta, did you have any problems staying next to Graype?” Frieza prompted. “I did as you asked,” Vegeta stated monotonously. “Was it difficult for you? I know how the ‘prince’ likes his alone-time…” “It was f—fine,” Vegeta said. “What’s going on with your tail? Did you injure it?” “No. Wh—What else do you need?” “That is all,” Frieza said. “Be on your ways now.” Graype tried to follow after Vegeta, but Vegeta ordered him away. “Frieza was right, my tail hurts. Should probably go get it checked out.” Once he was out of sight, Vegeta hurried back to his sleeping quarters and finally let his bladder release. Vegeta could also remember something Frieza had said on Namek. He hadn’t needed to pee at the time, but when Frieza caught him and the others trying to use the dragon balls, Vegeta had had that… thing happen. That thing where his chest constricted and his throat closed up and he suddenly couldn’t remember how breathing worked, so he just started to choke, convulse and hyperventilate while his vision swirled. Frieza had taunted Vegeta and the others a LOT, but at one point he had zeroed in on how Vegeta had reacted to him. “Surprised you didn’t piss in your pants,” he’d said. “But, I guess that’s unlikely with you.” At the time, Vegeta had thought that was just Frieza begrudgingly admitting Vegeta WAS tough. Now, he wasn’t so sure. What if that had been Frieza trying to inform him that he KNEW? That he knew it was unlikely for Vegeta to have an accident because it was unlikely for Vegeta to be able to pee at all? In that case, that meant Frieza had figured out what the problem was before Vegeta himself had! Vegeta hadn’t realized there was anything actually WRONG until he and Nappa were going to Earth! Up until then, he’d thought he just liked privacy and that he wanted to prove how strong his bladder was. Up until then, he hadn’t considered that the ‘feeling’ he sometimes got was a sign of anything more serious. If Frieza had figured it out first, that meant he’d been observing Vegeta’s behaviors and habits extremely closely. He’d likely been doing it ever since the day Vegeta had had an accident as a four year old. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Vegeta told Frieza now. “What have you noticed?” “You spent your life preparing to kill me,” Frieza said. “Which, you failed to do. You expected me to fear you, when you’re so weak that you can’t even make your own body comply with your demands.” The real Frieza had said that last part to him once. When Vegeta had first heard the legend of the Super Saiyan, immediately he’d thought he’d be able to do it if he tried. And, he had tried, in one of the rooms on Frieza’s ship, he’d tried to make himself do it. But, it hadn’t worked. Frieza had walked in on him attempting it and shook his head, “You honestly think YOU will be able to realize the legend? Really. You can’t even make your own body comply with your demands.” Vegeta had assumed Frieza had been referring to his inability to turn Super Saiyan, but if Frieza had KNOWN all along… Maybe he’d meant something more like “I doubt anyone who can’t PEE will be able to pull THAT off, Vegeta.” But, he WAS a Super Saiyan now, he’d proven Frieza wrong… “I did know, Vegeta,” Frieza said. “It provided me with so much entertainment, for years. Watching you trying to sneak around, denying your needs anytime you were questioned, stammering like a scared, little child. It made it easy to forget you were supposed to be any kind of great warrior. I thought you having an accident at four was hilarious, but for THIS to be what follows, to know that I was able to destroy you like this without even striking you…” Frieza laughed. “Think of it as my little gift to you.” Vegeta didn’t care about waking up anymore. He’d felt himself leak once again, but that barely fazed him. THIS dream-Frieza was the worst one he’d ever encountered, he wanted to kill him in the most brutal, violent way possible. He raised his hands, but instead of firing anything, he just flinched from how much it hurt him to move them off his groin. Frieza kept laughing, and the sound was making Vegeta feel very, very cold. He shook, teeth chattering.   He HAD to kill him, Frieza NEEDED to die again and again and aga— Vegeta finally opened his eyes, the view of Frieza’s obnoxious, smug face being replaced by the sight of the sky. He was still ice-cold, save for his side and part of his shoulder which felt like it had something draped over— Vegeta shot to his feet when he realized he was… Ah, gross! No! He’d just been… He’d been pressed right up against Kakarot! They’d been… touching… Yuck! He would have preferred staying in the Frieza-dream! Anything was better than waking up like… LIKE THAT! His arms shook with chills, protesting his decision to leave Kakarot’s embrace. He refused to return to it, however. He’d warmed up enough that he no longer felt like he’d die. He’d only ever hug Kakarot again if his life was literally in danger. Kakarot had fallen asleep too. Gah, if they’d been THAT close together, Vegeta really didn’t understand why Kakarot hadn’t noticed all the flailing he must have been doing. It should have woken him up! Nnnh, and he STILL really had to go. He felt some dampness between his legs and decided to pretend it was all just left-over from when he’d jumped in the lake. Could he try to use a tree? Kakarot was HERE, even if he wasn’t up and keeping watch for him, or… Saying anything. Vegeta COULD go outside if he was alone sometimes. It took a whole lot longer, but as long as he didn’t sense anything coming near him, it usually worked eventually. The cold nipped aggressively at his bladder, encouraging him to hurry up. Adding to his dilemma was how terribly numb most of his body felt. He could barely feel his legs, making it more difficult to tense them up against the flood. Even with gloves on, it was tricky to get his fingers to curl, even though he badly wanted to grip himself while he had the privacy to do so. He had privacy, the only other creature he could sense around here was Kakarot, he should be able to just GO if he stood there long enough. Vegeta went to a tree and got his clothing apart. He pulled himself out, and— Ohhh, fuck! This was— Nope! He did not like this at all! He hadn’t even been THINKING about how, in order to urinate, he was going to have to expose his most sensitive parts to the cold. The most confusing feeling overtook him— His dick felt so cold that, somehow, it was burning. He couldn’t make sense of how that even WORKED, but he DID know that the sensation was intolerable. The sensation in his bladder was intolerable too, though. He had to get it drained before he could tuck his dick back away. He bore down on his holding muscles, trying to get that done as quickly as he could but, as ever, his bladder was refusing to comply. His patience wore out MUCH faster than usual, which was saying a lot. He barely tolerated his bladder’s stubborn attitude for a full thirty seconds before he was frustratedly putting his clothes back together and trying to warm up again. Then, he was shoving Kakarot. “Get up!” “Vegeta…?” Kakarot asked, bleary eyed. “What’s wrong?” Vegeta waited for that usual ‘recognition’ to show on Kakarot’s face, but it didn’t. Vegeta knew he was twitching, knew his knees were rubbing, knew it looked like he had to pee. When he had to pee, he looked like he was cold. He was going to have to SAY it this time. THAT made his body start to warm up a bit, but he wasn’t grateful for it at all. “K—Kakarot… I… Would like to relieve myself now.” “Oh,” Kakarot said, glancing around. “Well, I think this is a good spot, I don’t sense anything. And, I guess since it didn’t get cold enough on those other planets, you’ve never gotten to write your name in the snow before. This’ll be fun!” Vegeta stared at him, the gears in his brain stuttering as they tried to make sense of what he’d just said. “Kakarot, what are you on about? Is the cold getting to your head? You don’t have many braincells left to lose.” “You know,” Kakarot said. “‘Cause pee’s warm, so it’ll melt the snow, and then you can write and draw stuff.” Vegeta kept staring, then glared. “That is disgusting, Kakarot! You seriously think that I would EVER do something so childish and—“ “It’s fun,” Kakarot repeated. “You’ll probably have to write more than just your name, though. ‘Cause of how much you always—“ “KAKAROT— I—“ Muttering to himself, Vegeta turned around to face a tree. “Why does HE have to be the only one I can do this in front of…” “It’s kinda tricky at first, way harder than aiming normally since you’re trying to—“ “I’m not doing that! I’m NEVER doing that! Stop talking about it!” Vegeta was hesitant about pulling himself out, now that he knew what exposing himself to the cold felt like, he was dreading having to go through it a second time. He thought he could deal with it if he was already peeing within seconds, but if he had to wait that way for minutes like he usually did, it would be too aggravating to put up with. He knew what he needed and, groaning, he made himself ask for it. “Kakarot, just… Say all that nonsense like you usually do, alright?” Kakarot complied, going on and on about how Vegeta was too strong to allow such a small thing to hold him back, how he could do anything he wanted, how his problem was nothing in the face of his power. Vegeta felt the pinching twinge that always preceded his bladder loosening. He hurried to pull himself out and was pleased when he managed to do it the second he started to dribble. He hadn’t allowed ANYTHING to soak into his clothes. The cold bit into his exposed flesh, and he was still at the stage where pushing his urine out just stung but, wary of having to start all over again, he clenched his jaw and forced himself to endure the discomfort. He forced himself to lean into the unpleasant feelings, knowing that it was the only way he’d ever get his stream to pick up and grant him the relief he needed. After a few more infuriating seconds of burning leaks, he felt a snap within him and at last everything was pouring out like he wanted it to. That was better… He actually warmed up a little, and THAT nearly made him moan. He had to focus very hard on Kakarot’s chi to remind himself not to make any embarrassing noises. “There, see?” Kakarot said. “You’ve got this!” Dammit, why did hearing that have to make him feel so good?! He could sometimes accept that he did, in fact, like to hear Kakarot compliment him if they were fighting together. He did sort of enjoy Kakarot being impressed if he showed off a new move. That was… Fine. Any acknowledgement of his greatness was always welcome. But, he had the same feeling now— When it was something so utterly— “Uuummm, Vegeta? Is it okay if I go now, too?” Kakarot asked. Vegeta didn’t think he had to hear anything else out of Kakarot, and he trusted Kakarot could still keep watch while he pissed. “Fine. I don’t care.” Seconds later, Vegeta heard the rustle of clothing and then saw a second stream spraying beside his own. “Dammit, Kakarot!” Vegeta snapped, trying to focus his attention just on his own aim. He was amazed he was still going, amazed his bladder was still loose and draining, rather than tightening back down again. “…Huh?” Kakarot asked. “You said I could pee!“ “I didn’t mean RIGHT NEXT TO ME when there were TONS of other places you could have—“ “Th—That bothers you?” Kakarot said, and his voice had so much genuine CONCERN in it that it really sounded like he was surprised. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know! I thought, since you can do it in front of me, that meant— I mean, you haven’t STOPPED, so—“ “Of course it bothers me!” Vegeta exclaimed, flustered. “Even if I’m still able to… Just— Just don’t stand next to me when we’re doing this!” “Okay, I won’t next time,” Kakarot said. Vegeta tried to concentrate again. Kakarot was so distracting! And he was… He was actually playing that juvenile, little ‘game’ he’d been blathering about. He was actually trying to spell his name with his piss. His Earth name, anyway. Which was probably the better option— It was shorter, and Kakarot couldn’t hold as much. Vegeta could write HIS name easily, and then have plenty left over. He’d be able to write his name much LARGER than Kakarot could. … No. He COULD do that, but he wasn’t GOING to. Which would cause Kakarot to win by defau— Vegeta turned slightly and started to— Ah, he couldn’t believe he was actually doing this! It was so childish, it was beneath him! It was also— Why was it so difficult to do this right? His aim wasn’t bad, he was sure it was far better than Kakarot’s! If Chi-Chi was to be believed, then TRUNKS had had better aim than Kakarot by the time he was three! When Vegeta tried it with both hands he was finally able to get it to look right. The V was wonky, but the rest was fine. And the letters were larger than Kakarot’s, which was all that mattered. He realized he’d managed to get so focused on that task that he hadn’t even THOUGHT about how he was peeing outside, instead of in a locked, private room. He hadn’t paid attention to that at all, the usual stress had disappeared. By the time Vegeta was done, Kakarot had already been finished for a while. Even though he’d started AFTER Vegeta. The reminder of how much larger his own bladder was gave Vegeta another slight confidence boost. “So, you DID do it,” Kakarot noted, looking at the snow. “And you wrote it bigger.” Vegeta would usually feel embarrassed if Kakarot commented on the size of the puddle he’d made. Not this time, though. “Of course, just another way to remind you that you could NEVER match me.”
They were able to spend the night indoors, in a house belonging to some woman Kakarot had met as a child. Vegeta had been skeptical at first that anyone would just invite them inside, but when Kakarot knocked on the door and the woman recognized him, she welcomed them right in. Her name was Suno, and Kakarot explained she was the person who’d rescued him when he’d nearly frozen to death. She lived with Android Eight, one of the older androids constructed by the Red Ribbon Army. Kakarot had needed to stop Vegeta from starting a fight with him when he assumed that they “must have missed one”. “Calm down, Vegeta, Eighter doesn’t want to hurt anybody,” Kakarot said. Suno even prepared dinner for them, not enough to actually fill either of them up, but enough to quell the small hunger pangs Vegeta had been experiencing. What troubled him more was his thirst, though. He hadn’t had anything to drink since that morning, and he knew he hadn’t come close to reaching the ‘daily hydration quota’ Bulma had been making him stick to lately. His throat was really dry, and the pitcher of water on the table looked really tempting. But, he was acutely aware of how small Suno’s house was. It would not be easy to enter the bathroom unnoticed and, even so, he was sure that the sound of him peeing would be detectable. Going back out to use a tree was actually the more appealing option for him. He knew that was odd, the outside wouldn’t offer him any doors to lock and conceal himself behind, so it made no sense that he’d feel more comfortable THERE. It was just that, if he went outside, Suno wouldn’t immediately guess that it was because he needed to pee. She wouldn’t THINK about him relieving himself, or about him not being able to wait any longer. There would be no chance of her hearing his stream hiss out. Those things WOULD happen if he used the toilet here. He tried not to worry about it, he didn’t really NEED to go yet, and if he let himself drink a little, it would take time before it started to bother him. He’d be able to wait until Suno and Android Eight had both gone to bed. Vegeta allowed himself a few sips of water, trying to maintain control over himself and ignore the fact that he was dying of thirst. Once the first couple swallows had gone down his throat, the desire for more was overwhelming. Before he knew it, he’d finished that glass and was pouring himself another. He tried to keep tabs on how much remained inside the pitcher, to get some idea of the amount he was pouring into his body, it was difficult to keep track though and it felt SO good to hydrate himself. Eventually, he’d finished more than half of the pitcher all on his own, and had to force himself to stop. He felt rejuvenated, but not enough to offset the dread now making itself known. He’d better have an easy time getting RID of all that later… Suno soon showed them to the spare bedroom, apologizing that there was only one bed. “That’s fine,” Vegeta said. “HE can sleep on the floor.” Kakarot frowned, “Huh? Why? It’s a big bed.” Suno backed out of the room, as though she could sense Vegeta’s building anger. “Do you honestly have to ASK, Kakarot?!” Vegeta demanded. “Well, yeah… The bed me and Chi-Chi have at home is smaller, and we both fit in it just fine.” “I’m not Chi-Chi.” “I KNOW that, you’re bigger than her, which is FINE because this bed is—“ “On the floor, Kakarot,” Vegeta insisted. “I’m not going to sleep beside you.” “You did earlie—“ “Didn’t,” Vegeta interrupted. He sat down on the bed and folded his arms. “Stay on the floor.” Kakarot laid down on the ground, wriggling slightly. “This is the same thing Bulma did…” “What?” Vegeta asked, trying to settle into the bed. His bladder twinged slightly, a subtle jab of pressure. Now that he’d noticed it, it wouldn’t go away. “When I was helping her find the dragon balls,” Kakarot explained. “I really wanted to sleep with her, but she made me stay on th—“ Vegeta shot bolt upright, “Kakarot— You tried to sleep with my Bulma?!” Kakarot shrugged. “Well, yeah… Anybody would have.” Vegeta jumped out of the bed, readying his fists, “OKAY! That’s IT!” “The floor in that capsule house was all hard and cold,” Kakarot continued. “And the bed looked so much more comfortable.” Vegeta lowered his hands. “Kakarot… You’re an idiot.” “Huh? What did I do?” Vegeta groaned and got back into bed. “Don’t speak to me until morning, alright?” Kakarot went silent, so Vegeta assumed he was going to obey. Vegeta wished his bladder would do the same thing, but it was still nagging at him. A bit too much of that water had finished filtering through him, and he was far from being comfortable. He could sense Suno’s chi and knew she was still moving around. She hadn’t gone to sleep yet. He didn’t know what the android was doing, since machines didn’t have chi signals he could feel. Vegeta wasn’t desperate by any means, he could wait for those two to go to bed. He just had to make sure he didn’t fall asleep first. While he’d managed to nap earlier, his sleep had been far from restful. That dream, all the memories within it… HAD Frieza noticed the problem? Vegeta told himself that it didn’t really matter if he had or not. Frieza was too busy being dead to torment him over it. The idea was making Vegeta’s head hurt, though. It forced him to run through all of his interactions with Frieza, particularly the ones in which he’d needed to pee. The thought that the tyrant had always been silently laughing at him and that, as a result, he’d never even had a CHANCE of intimidating him, was painful. If he’d always been a joke in Frieza’s eyes, if no matter what he did, no matter what new heights he reached, Frieza was always thinking about the one very simple thing he COULDN’T do… Of course Frieza hadn’t been scared of him. All he’d ever needed to do was imagine Vegeta suffering immense desperation but failing to void no matter how hard he tried, and anything that MIGHT have been intimidating about him would fade away. Vegeta had never stood a chance, there had never been anything he could have done to make Frieza fear him. He’d lost his shot at that when he was just four years old, and hadn’t even known it. Frieza had only ever seen him as a silly plaything, not as any kind of threat. And no amount of effort could have changed that. Suno had been still for a while, so Vegeta figured she’d gone to sleep. Hopefully that meant the android was in bed, too. Vegeta crawled out of bed, a hand moving to rest protectively over his lower abdomen as his bladder sloshed. Ugh, that water was moving through him too fast. He’d JUST peed in the forest a few hours ago, his middle had no business aching so much again already. He walked passed Kakarot, who’d managed to fall asleep already. He exited the bedroom and discovered a problem before he could make it to the toilet; The android was still in the dining area, just kind of… Standing there. “Hello,” Android Eight said. “Trouble sleeping?” Vegeta glanced towards the front door. He didn’t particularly WANT to go outside now. The cold would be even worse now that the sun was down. But, the android would see him enter the restroom, might be able to hear him voiding— If he even managed to get his stream started. “I thought you were going to bed.” “I’m a machine,” Android Eight reminded. “I don’t need sleep.” Vegeta thought Eighteen slept… Maybe since this guy was a different model, the rules were different? “So, you just stand around all night, then?” That sounded so boring… If Vegeta didn’t need to rest his body each night, he’d use that extra time to train. The android just wasted all of it. “Yes,” Android Eight nodded. Vegeta tried not to look at the door to the restroom. It was— It was RIGHT there. His bladder was throbbing with the need to head towards it. It was just too humiliating to do that with someone watching him. Eight would think he couldn’t hold it in. And he COULD hold it longer than this, it was just uncomfortable to… “I’m going outside,” Vegeta decided, turning towards the front door. “Don’t,” Eight said. “It’s dangerous at night. There are wolves.” “The wolves should be afraid of ME…” Vegeta muttered. “I’m—“ “If you can’t sleep, you should drink something warm.” The last thing Vegeta needed was more fluid. All the water from before was likely still processing, his bladder already had enough to deal with. “No,” he said. “I’ll—“ his eyes flicked to the restroom again, then the front door. “I need to— I’ll go to bed,” he decided. He could hold it until morning, he’d go outside after he’d woken up. He’d gone to bed needing to pee plenty of times before and, so long as he paid attention to what chi signals he could feel, he didn’t have to worry about his dreams tricking him into doing anything disgraceful. Vegeta managed to fall asleep. Unsurprisingly, his dream was far from pleasant. He and Trunks got locked inside the gravity chamber and weren’t able to just break down the door. None of Trunks’s attacks had been powerful enough, and Vegeta had needed to pee too badly to control his energy. He wasn’t able to sense Trunks, so he was aware that he was asleep, but that did nothing to tamp down the embarrassment he felt at being so blatantly desperate in front of his son. When he woke up, his legs were tangled in the sheets and his hands had wedged between them. Humiliated by the knots his sleeping body had twisted itself into, he pulled his hands away and carefully stood up. Liquid sloshed inside of him and he was forced to perform a few cringing bounces to get it under control. Kakarot was already up off the floor— How dare he not wake Vegeta up, too?! Did he think Vegeta NEEDED more sleep than him?!— Vegeta shook his head and went out the door once again. He… HAD to get outside soon, had to get to the trees, had to get RID of that water from last night. He thought it had all made it to his bladder by now. It sure FELT like it, anyway. He HOPED there weren’t any more waves coming, his holding muscles were burning badly enough already. Before he opened the bedroom door, he had to take a moment to compose himself. He was shaking way too much, and his knees were rubbing together. When he paused, they even started to cross. He decided to allow that, and he let his hands return to his crotch for a few seconds as well. A little bit of squeezing and squirming might help him get this back under control for a little bit— Just long enough to make it outside without his problem becoming obvious. One he had managed to straighten back out again without his insides immediately starting to sting, he opened the door and stepped out. He spotted Kakarot at the kitchen table, stuffing food into his mouth. Vegeta was still rather hungry, but his bladder needled at him more than his stomach. “Hey,” Kakarot called. “After we have breakfast, the radar says th’ next ball’s to the East.” “Fine,” Vegeta said, walking briskly by the table and towards the door. He was careful not to bend his knees too much in order to avoid upsetting his bladder. He knew that probably made his gait look odd, but hoped the reason wasn’t obvious. “Hang on,” Kakarot said. “We aren’t leaving yet, I’m still—“ “I’m going outside for a minute, Kakarot,” Vegeta said, not pausing. “I have to— I dropped something yesterday.” “We can look for it together after—“ Kakarot paused. “Oh. Okay.” Vegeta threw the door open and walked out. Immediately, he shivered in the cold, the action making his bladder contract sharply and throb even more. His knees drew closer together and he jiggled on his toes for a second. It felt even colder than yesterday… * “Your friend was trying to leave last night,” Android Eight said. “I hadn’t known he’d lost something. I would have gone to find it. I don’t get cold.” Goku shrugged, trying to keep the concern from creasing his brow. Vegeta had been holding it since last night, then? Goku wished he’d just woken him up. He was also surprised that, apparently, his friend felt more comfortable peeing outside than using Suno’s restroom. “Vegeta likes to do things for himself,” he said. Goku finished his food and stood up. “Thanks for having us over, Suno,” he said. “Don’t you want to wait for Vegeta to come back? He’s probably hungry t—“ Suno paused and glanced over the table, not one crumb remained on any of the plates. “Uhhh…” “Eheh, whoops…” Goku said, standing from the table. “Guess I was hungrier than I thought… Uh, I’ll see you guys again if I’m ever up this way. Bye.” * Vegeta was now standing outside Suno’s house, arms and legs crossed, hands working up and down his arms. It was WAY colder than yesterday. So cold, in fact, that he hadn’t been able to pee. He’d been unable to tolerate the sensation of being exposed to the frigid air for long enough to actually go. And, the constant shakes had continually pulled all of his muscles taut, ensuring that he couldn’t loosen them up enough to release his bladder. Finally, he’d just given up, left the woods and come back to wait for Kakarot. He hated cold. No wonder Frieza had only sent him on missions to warm places, nobody would want to buy a planet that felt like THIS. He couldn’t understand why any Earthlings CHOSE to live in this area. Once Kakarot got here, once they could head towards the NEXT ball, Vegeta would find somewhere else to go. He’d stop at the first place he saw that looked usable. His urgency was increasing rapidly in response to the temperature, and he tapped his foot sharply. Kakarot finally came out. “Hey, Vegeta. Did you… Um… Find what you were—“ “We’re leaving,” Vegeta interrupted. “Now.” He took off into the sky, immensely relieved when his bladder didn’t try to pull him back down again. He could tell he needed to hurry though, it wasn’t easy to concentrate on remaining airborne when so much of his energy had to go towards holding it. Kakarot joined him, “H—Hang on,” he said. “I haven’t even shown you WHERE to go yet…” “You said ‘East’,” Vegeta reminded. “Yeah, but—“ Kakarot showed him the dragon radar. “It looks like it’s in this city here…” Vegeta slowed to look at it, legs rubbing together. He wished the map on the radar was a little more detailed. He wished it would point out the nearest forest with a temperature somewhere above sub-zero… Kakarot glanced at him, “Uh… Er… You didn’t… Uh… ‘Find that thing’, did you?” “It’s too damn cold here,” Vegeta said. “It’s worse than yesterday. I’ll ‘look for it’ somewhere warmer!” “We can go back, I could—“ “Too cold!” Vegeta repeated. “Now, come on!” “O—Okay,” Kakarot said, picking up the pace. Vegeta followed beside him, and it was obvious that he was struggling to fly. His legs kept bending in and he was moving slower than he typically did. Goku slowed as well, trying to make it look natural, trying not to call Vegeta’s attention towards his own dwindling speed. It seemed he hadn’t noticed it yet. Goku looked below them, trying to find a good spot to stop. He thought he had to make the decision carefully, since he doubted Vegeta would be able to get BACK in the air again unless he peed first. If that happened, then there was always instant transmission. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that, though. He knew it embarrassed Vegeta to need to ask for it, and that it felt like admitting defeat. It was admitting ‘I can’t go here, I can’t wait anymore, and I need to go so badly that I can’t even fly somewhere else.’ But, it made Goku feel a little better to know it was an option. It meant he had a way to ensure that his friend wouldn’t get hurt. As they got closer and closer to the city, and Goku didn’t see any good places to stop, he felt himself becoming more grateful for his ability. It was okay that there weren’t any dense forests out this way, he could take Vegeta home in just a fraction of a second if he needed to. Vegeta was dismayed as they kept traveling and he didn’t spot ANY areas in which he thought he might be able to void. Just barren, grassy fields with nothing to go behind. And, even when they made it to the city, he knew he wouldn’t be able to alleviate this pressure. He was sure there wasn’t a single toilet there that he would be able to make use of. Earth’s public facilities were the worst out of any planet he’d ever been to. There was no way to use one discreetly, since multiple people could enter at once, and the stalls did nothing to muffle sounds. But, they did get all the way there without finding any decent places for Vegeta to relieve himself. They landed, and Vegeta fought not to double over. He’d let his feet touch the ground as gently as he possibly could, and even so, the impact had sent shockwaves up to his over-full bladder. “I’m sorry,” Kakarot said. “I was looking, I promi—“ “Which way is it?” Vegeta demanded. He had to get out of here as fast as possible. This place was crowded, people were going to notice if he began to squirm. People probably already WERE noticing, since he was still bouncing his toes, legs pressed together and dangerously close to crossing. “Where’s the damn ball?” “Vegeta—“ “Kakarot, let’s get this over with before—“ “Ummm…. Hey, there’s a restroom over here,” Kakarot said, trying to lead Vegeta that way. Vegeta lowered his voice as much as he could, difficult to do since he was already so annoyed. “Kakarot, are you a moron?” Goku wasn’t sure why he’d suggested it. Yes, that WOULD be the solution to this problem if he was here with someone else. Just, not for Vegeta. But, the only other option was instant transmission, and Vegeta hated how he sometimes needed that. It hurt his pride every time he required it. “Uh… I have to go, too,” he said. Vegeta tensed further, feet pointing inwards for a second. “Tough,” he said. “If you think I’m going to let you go when I— When I…” “Okay, I’ll wait!” Goku said. “But…” he made himself squirm, hoping it looked real. “I really have to go, Vegeta!” Vegeta turned even redder and stepped farther away from Kakarot. ‘If HE keeps fidgeting like that, people are going to stare.’ If they stared, they’d notice Vegeta looked uncomfortable, too. “Kakarot,” he hissed. “Hold still!” “I can’t,” Kakarot complained. “How about… We go over there, and— And if it… Doesn’t work for you, I can take you home?” “No.” Goku had really thought that would work. He noticed how Vegeta kept trying to inch away from him and put as much distance between the two of them as possible… Goku crossed his legs and held himself, like he would if he really was about to have an accident. “But, Vegeta—“ Vegeta spun on his heels, facing away from Kakarot. ‘Act like you don’t know him! Pretend you’ve never seen him before in your life!’ He thought. “Ugh, FINE, Kakarot. Just cut THAT out.” Goku made a show of slowly straightening himself out, as if doing so required a lot of effort. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll try, but hurry.” Vegeta trudged after Kakarot towards the restroom. Then, he just stood in front of the door for a second. And then another second. And another. His bladder throbbed, willing him to go in, but his feet wouldn’t move anymore. He knew what would happen if he went in there. He knew that he’d be unable to get relief. He knew that he’d have to listen to streams flowing, toilets flushing, sinks running, while his bladder remained painfully full. Worst of all, he knew someone would notice. Someone would notice that he was having trouble. A stranger, and a puny Earthling at that, would see Vegeta struggling with something that was supposed to be so easy and simple. The… ‘feeling’ would become all consuming. Even out here, it was coiling up inside his chest, lodging itself in his throat and clogging his airway. Without even going in, he was already starting to experience a shortness of breath. If he went in and tried, doubtless being met with failure and shame in the process, he thought that… Thing might happen again. The thing Bulma had called a ‘panic attack’, but which Vegeta knew MUST have been something different, because he didn’t HAVE panic attacks. But, what if that thing, whatever it ACTUALLY was, did happen again, and someone noticed THAT? He would not allow that to happen. He wouldn’t even give it the opportunity to occur. Goku watched as Vegeta just stood there at the door. He was about to try to urge him to go through it, when he became aware of something that he found deeply troubling. Vegeta’s chi was… It was spiking tremendously, then fading back down a few seconds later, then raising again, falling… That was how it felt whenever Vegeta was fighting and needed to give it his all. But, Vegeta WASN’T fighting anyone right now. Was he…? Goku noticed Vegeta’s breathing next, and that it didn’t sound right. Goku had no idea what his strange, choppy breaths or out of control chi signals could mean, but he just had a feeling they weren’t a sign of anything good. Maybe he wasn’t ready for this after all. Maybe this was just TOO far out of his comfort zone. He reached out to his friend; “Vegeta…“ Vegeta opened and closed his fists in response to the annoyed pangs from his bladder. He didn’t understand why it had to try so hard to convince him to go in that room. It was its own fault that the room was useless to him. If his bladder would learn to just COOPERATE with him… He felt Kakarot’s hand grip his shoulder, heard him say; “”Let’s go!” A second later, they appeared in front of the last person Vegeta WANTED them to. Bulma wasn’t fazed by them spontaneously showing up like that, she had gotten used to it. Calmly, she asked “Did you find them all already?” Vegeta looked away, in the direction of their bedroom. He rubbed his hands against his thighs, which had no effect on his desperation, but he had such an aggravating urge to move around that he just had to do something. “Nope, not yet,” Goku said. “We had to come back for a second because…” he stopped. “The… Dragon radar is out of batteries,” he decided. “Goku, it’s solar powered…” Bulma pointed out. “Oh? Well… Uh, maybe it’s something else,” Goku said, noticing Vegeta rush off in the corner of his eye. Vegeta sure was walking stiffly, he wasn’t bending his knees at all… Once he was out of sight from Kakarot and Bulma, Vegeta let his hands go to his crotch and squeeze, legs coiling together. He was ashamed of himself, and not just because of the ridiculous dance he could no longer help. He’d needed to resort to Kakarot’s instant transmission again, the last resort, the thing that meant he’d lost and could no longer rely on himself to get out of his situation. And then there was that horrid feeling that had almost overwhelmed him outside the public restroom. What the Hell WAS that?! What business did it have bothering HIM?! It was a puny, invisible, insignificant little emotion, it didn’t belong anywhere NEAR him! But, instead it had practically overpowered him today, he’d come dangerously close to that humiliating hyperventilation thing, something that made him look so pathetic and powerless, unable to even control his own breathing. At least he hadn’t needed to ASK Kakarot to take him here. Thank fuck for that… It was embarrassing that Kakarot had so easily realized what he needed the second he needed it the most, but that was leagues better than having to ask, or— Or starting to choke on his breath in public. He locked himself into his and Bulma’s bedroom, then locked the door to the restroom as well. His chest was still being annoying and causing him to shake. Once he was aimed at the toilet, his muscles remained taut. ‘Dammit…’ he thought, rubbing a hand over his bladder and only provoking more stabbing pulses. ‘You’re alone— TWO locked doors, just relax already!’ Once again, he didn’t know where to start, how to focus his energy. Every attempt to ‘relax’ only made his tension rise. He MUST have relaxed at SOME point in his life, even if just by accident. He couldn’t remember it though, couldn’t recall a single moment where he hadn’t felt some rigidity somewhere in his body. Apparently, ‘relaxing’ wasn’t something he was supposed to TRY to do. Apparently, much like peeing, it was supposed to ‘just happen’. Knowing that intensified his frustration. How could Vegeta be SO bad at doing absolutely nothing?! If Kakarot or Bulma were here, they’d tell him to stop thinking that way. Cringing, he forced himself to pretend they WERE there, encouraging him. He scolded himself for needing to imagine that, but it worked and his stream started to ebb out. For the first several seconds, his bladder kept stinging and throbbing as badly as ever, and he had to really strain to get it to continue emptying. His release picked up speed and was at last pouring out with minimal input from him. He could finally just ‘let it happen’ like he was SUPPOSED to be doing all along. And, it felt so good to simply allow his body to do what it needed to do all on its own. It felt sort of… His shoulders went slack, they actually went SLACK, and the sensation was so bizarre and unfamiliar that it was kind of startling. Was that supposed to happen? It really felt good to have less tension there, though… *** Once Vegeta been gone for a few minutes, Bulma sighed; “I guess he needed to—“ “Yeah,” Goku admitted. “I’m still trying to help him and stuff. Don’t let him find out I told you, but he didn’t have much trouble going outside yesterday. It was fun, we both wrote our names in the snow.” “Goku, why did you have to tell me that?” “Today we were in this huge city, and I guess it was too crowded, and—“ “Did he try?” Bulma asked. “Huh?” Bulma lowered her voice, though she was sure Vegeta couldn’t hear them now. “The reason I told him to gather the balls is because I thought he’d end up in a situation where he’d have to try using a public bathroom.” “Oh… Well, he… Uh, he TRIED to try, I guess…” “Goku, that doesn’t even make sense. Did he try or not?” “He got to the door,” Goku said. “… So he DIDN’T try,” Bulma figured. “If this happens again, do you think you could convince him? Just… I don’t know, talk about how ‘easy’ it is, then he’ll need to prove he can do it ‘better’ than you, or something.” Goku shrugged. That would probably provoke Vegeta into giving it a shot, but… “I don’t think I should do that.” “It would work,” Bulma said. “He’d at least TRY it, I can’t even get him to do that much.” Goku shook his head. “And then if he can’t go, and he doesn’t ‘defeat’ me…”. “… Right,” Bulma nodded. The holding contest had helped because Vegeta had been victorious, and both she and Goku had KNOWN the outcome going in. This time, she was fairly certain of the outcome as well, but ‘losing’ wouldn’t result in any progress. The avoidance behavior would remain the same, if anything he’d be LESS likely to ever try it again. “There has to be some way you can convince him to—“ “I don’t think—“ Goku struggled. Vegeta wasn’t around to HEAR this, but Goku still felt like he’d know about it. “I don’t think Vegeta’s… ‘Ready’ for that yet.” “What do you mean?” “Well… Uh, you can’t sense chi, so I guess you wouldn’t have ever noticed, but… When we’re fighting, our energy spikes up and down a lot. It changes super fast.” “So…?” “So, if you can feel other people’s chi, you notice that. It’s really obvious. And, you can’t turn that off… If Vegeta’s in a battle, even if I don’t have a clear view, I still KNOW that he’s fighting, and I kind of have an idea of what he’s doing. When he was thinking about trying to pee in public, his chi was doing the same thing it does then. I don’t know why, but it felt really unstable, kind of… flaring, it just seemed like a bad sign.” Bulma couldn’t sense chi, but she had an idea of what Goku might have been noticing. “Have you noticed that happen at any other time when he wasn’t fighting? Or, with anybody else?” “Uuuummm…” Goku furrowed his brow. “I don’t— Yes!” He realized. “Gohan had this really big test at school, and he was worried about it for some reason, even though he’s never failed any of them, and his chi was acting weird. That’s probably because studying makes Gohan feel the same way fighting makes me feel, right?” “I’m not so sure…” “And… Okay, yeah, I think Vegeta’s does that a LOT, actually. Just, that was the most intense it ever was. And… Now that I’m thinking about it, his chi spikes way more during fights than anyone else’s… And not just when he’s charging attacks, either… Weird…” “… I think what you’re noticing is his anxiety, Goku.” “What’s that?” “You know how Vegeta’s just ALWAYS sort of tense? And— I swear, he doesn’t even know HOW to relax… If he ever manages to do it, it’ll probably just confuse him or something…” “Yeah,” Goku said. “He IS always a little—“ Vegeta came back around the corner. “Kakarot!” He said. “Is the radar fixed now?” “… Yes, Vegeta,” Bulma said. “Go find the last of the balls.”
Once they returned to the city, the dragon ball was easy to find. It had been picked up by a woman running a jewelry shop, thinking it was just a decoration. She wanted a lot of money for it, but Vegeta was able to pay. He bragged to Kakarot that Bulma gave him lots of money each week to spend on whatever he wanted. “Wait, so you get an allowance?” Kakarot asked. “Like what Chi-Chi gives Goten?” Vegeta glowered, “Don’t say it like that!” “But— But that’s not fair, though! Chi-Chi doesn’t give me an allowance! I asked her, and she said it’s just for Goten since he’s a kid, but if YOU get one, then—“ “Be quiet!” Vegeta snapped. “What would someone like you even DO with money?” “Get lots of food.” “… Where’s the next ball?” Vegeta prompted. Kakarot took out the radar. “Hey, it says it’s near Roshi’s place!” He said. “This should be easy!” Vegeta hoped so. The past couple days had been so irritating. Being glued to that damn Kakarot’s side almost non-stop, his bladder still failing to follow his very simple commands, almost having that… weird breathing thing happen to him in a public place. He thought he deserved a break. They flew off, and Vegeta had a far easier time traversing the air now. He also wasn’t constantly distracted by searching for forests anymore. His bladder actually felt comfortable for once. Hopefully they’d obtain the last ball before it decided to bother him again. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t even think about it that much. He’d just pissed, so it would be a while before he needed it again. Two emergencies in as many days had grated on him though. He was having ‘incidents’ like this more often now. He knew that was all down to Bulma making him hydrate himself more than he ever had before, but with his ‘problem’ still a problem, his bladder filling itself up faster was not a welcome change. What he wanted was to cut back on the water again, and only start following Bulma’s directions once he’d eradicated this asinine urination issue once and for all. Once he’d defeated it, once he was able to piss whenever he damn well pleased, THEN he’d drink however copiously Bulma wanted him to. He’d drink even more than that, just because he COULD… He couldn’t deny that the way he’d kept himself hydrated lately WAS a good thing, though. They were now flying above the ocean. In the past, most times Vegeta did this, he’d be overwhelmed by the dry feeling in his mouth and on his tongue, fantasizing about gulping every last drop of the liquid roaring beneath him. He’d scold himself for the thoughts, reminding himself that he didn’t HAVE needs, and that drinking salt-water would only make him feel MORE thirsty. But, the sight of all that glistening fluid mixed with the sound of it sloshing was always so tantalizing. Since he was finally drinking appropriate amounts of water, Vegeta didn’t daydream about trying to guzzle the ocean water he was flying over. But, the sight and sound of it was still doing SOMETHING to him. His stupid, suggestible bladder was pinching at him a little. Irritated, he ignored it. ‘There is no way I have to relieve myself again,’ he thought. ‘I’m waiting until this is finished and I can go home. Just forget about it.’ It was probably just a phantom urge anyway, when he looked straight ahead, rather than straight down at the water, the tingling in his bladder died down substantially. Kakarot was lagging behind. Not wanting to give his bladder the TIME to actually fill up, Vegeta turned and shouted “Would you hurry up? I would prefer to sleep in my OWN bed tonight!” “Sorry, Vegeta,” Kakarot said, speeding up a little. “You’re getting faster!” He added. Vegeta knew Kakarot was only trying to placate him, to mollify his frustration a little, but… Dammit, it was definitely working. “Feh, I guess it WOULD be hard for ANYONE to keep up with MY speed… But, do try your best.” They were off again, but before long Kakarot was moving even SLOWER. “Kakaro—“ “Ummm… Vegeta…” Kakarot said. “Could we maybe take a break?” “Don’t tell me you’re actually getting TIRED,” Vegeta scoffed. “No…” Kakarot said. “I just… I have to go, Vegeta…” Vegeta scowled and turned away, dismayed when he felt heat creep up on his face. “I guess I shouldn’t even bother asking where… Didn’t you JUST piss?” “Huh? No—“ “You did,” Vegeta rolled his eyes. “In the last city, you kept whining that you had to piss until I gave in. Then, we went back to my place, and…” “O—Oh,” Goku said. Of course, Vegeta assumed he’d peed at Capsule Corp as well. After the show he’d put on trying to convince Vegeta to attempt the public toilet, it would only make sense that he had relieved himself already. But, he hadn’t. He hadn’t actually needed to pee then. He REALLY did now… The constant splashing of the ocean wasn’t helping at all. He rubbed his legs together for a second. “Right… But, I need to go again!” Vegeta huffed and glanced around for half of a second— Probably even less time than that. “Well, I don’t see anything. Hold it until we get to that old pervert’s house.” “Mmmf, okay…” Goku said worriedly. They weren’t THAT far from Roshi’s place. If he didn’t have to be subjected to the sound of running water the whole way there, it wouldn’t be that hard to make it. All those noises were getting inside his head, and they were getting inside his bladder too. He wished he HAD gone when he’d taken Vegeta home earlier, he regretted his choice not to. They kept flying, Goku lagging behind. He tried not to complain about his urge anymore. It appeared that OTHER people needing to pee made Vegeta feel a little awkward too. His tense responses and the pinkness in his face made that obvious. Goku had seldom flown while needing to pee. If his bladder was full, he’d stop at the first place he could and let it go. Holding it was uncomfortable and distracting, so he only did it when he had no choice. Restraining his bladder in mid-air felt noticeably different than restraining it on the ground. The difference in gravity and the lack of anything solid beneath his feet to bounce against made it all feel more precarious. It took some time to actually work out what he could DO to soothe his bladder. Of course, he couldn’t jiggle his feet or lean against anything. He couldn’t cross his legs or hold himself, since his arms and legs needed to stay in a specific position. The most he could do was kind of rub his knees together, and that didn’t help very much. He thought about just going in the water. There wasn’t anywhere else to pee, so what else could he do? “V—Vegeta?” He called. “I have to stop… I’ll just pee in the water, okay?” Vegeta froze. “Kakarot, that’s revolting!” He turned, scowling. “We’re not that far away, can’t you just contain yourself for half an hour?” Goku frowned. He didn’t think it was THAT gross to pee in the ocean. The fish were all doing it, weren’t they? A moment’s consideration was all it took for Goku to figure out that that WASN’T what Vegeta was annoyed about. Goku thought he could guess what was on Vegeta’s mind pretty easily sometimes. He had a hard time doing that with most people, but Vegeta was different. He was easy for Goku to read. Right now, he was thinking something like, ‘If it were ME in this situation, the ocean wouldn’t even BE an option! He thinks he’s better at pissing than I am! He’s gonna show that off!’ Of course, Goku wouldn’t be showing off, he just really had to pee and needed to do it SOMEWHERE. And, he didn’t think he was somehow ‘better’ at peeing than Vegeta was. Vegeta probably KNEW all of that deep down as well, it just didn’t make a difference in how he FELT. Goku tried to hold it until they reached Roshi’s place, but his bladder was really hurting him. He was moving sluggishly, which he knew was just irritating Vegeta further, and the ocean below him just kept getting louder. When he eventually felt himself leak a bit, he realized he probably wasn’t going to make it. He had to go very soon. So, he’d have to somehow change how Vegeta FELT about him doing that. “Mmmf…” Goku whined. “Vegetaaaaa….” Vegeta stopped and spun to face him. “Kakarot, just—“ “I can’t!” Goku said. “M—My bladder’s just not as big as yours is!” Vegeta sighed, face reddening as he turned slightly away from him. “You can wait WAY longer than me,” Goku continued. “I know you think it’s ridiculous that I have to pee again already, but that’s just because your bladder’s the strongest one ever.” Vegeta turned around the rest of the way. “… Fine, just go,” he muttered. “Make it fast.” Breathing a sigh of relief, Goku turned as well and started to undo his pants. Right away, a thick stream started to spatter into the water, the hiss mixing with the sloshing of the ocean. Phew… That was much better. The tight bands around his midsection all broke apart, replaced with the pleasant tingling of his release. Vegeta tried not to listen to it. He THOUGHT that would be easy, since the ocean was loud enough on its own. Still, the distinct trickle of Kakarot relieving himself was detectable. And once he HAD noticed it, he couldn’t STOP noticing it. For whatever reason, he felt as embarrassed as he would have if HE’D been the one urinating in the middle of the ocean like that, unable to hold it in for a measly thirty minutes. He REALLY wished that Kakarot would stop SIGHING like that. It sounded so… Obvious. Even though there weren’t any other people near them, Vegeta cringed at the thought of someone else overhearing those ridiculous noises. He blushed hard, unsure why HE was the one feeling humiliated now, especially when he knew that Kakarot didn’t have it in him to feel ashamed himself. “Ahhh…” Kakarot breathed out. ‘Hurry the Hell up…’ Vegeta thought. ‘And be quiet! I don’t care how good it feels for you to piss! I—‘ The earlier twinges from his own bladder had returned, and they were far more insistent. ‘Dammit— You’re going to make me—‘ He couldn’t deny it from himself anymore, he needed to go. Being surrounded by water for ages, and then having to listen to Kakarot void his bladder had put the power of suggestion in his mind, and now his middle was throbbing, pressure mounting. They needed to finish this soon. Kakarot was almost done, at least. He was putting his clothes back together, turning to smile at Vegeta. “Thanks!” He said. “I couldn’t wait anymore.” “Yeah, that’s great,” Vegeta sighed. “Are we close to the ball yet?” “Oh, right…” Goku had sort of forgotten about that, focusing so much more on trying to hold his pee and get to Roshi’s house so he could use the toilet. He took out the radar, and his smile broadened. “Yep! It should be somewhere right around here, under the water.” Vegeta felt a hint of relief then. Almost done… He waited for Kakarot to dive in, but he didn’t. “You wanna look for it?” Kakarot asked. Vegeta stared at him for a moment, silent. The quiet made the ocean feel louder to his ears, which in turn made his bladder convulse harder. He rubbed his legs together and ordered himself to just ignore that. “Or…” Kakarot said. “Did you want me to do it this time? I just wanted to make sure, so you don’t think I’m—“ “Kakarot… You literally JUST pissed there!” Vegeta snapped. “Why would I go swimming in your piss?!” Kakarot shrugged— He actually fucking— “The fish are peeing in it all the time.” “The fish aren’t YOU!” Vegeta yelled. “Now, GO GET THE BALL!” Kakarot jumped slightly, then dove under the water. Vegeta scowled down at it. Kakarot was brainless, absolutely brainless… And he’d better hurry the Hell up, Vegeta was starting to get kind of— No. He wasn’t getting desperate. It hadn’t been THAT long since he’d last peed. He was fine. The water was just getting on his nerves was all. Once he was away from it, his bladder would calm down. Kakarot re-emerged from beneath the water, holding the dragon ball. “Got it!” He announced. “Good,” Vegeta said. “Glad that tedium is over with. Let’s—“ He broke off. He’d been about to order Kakarot to just teleport him home again. But, if he did that, Kakarot would think he’d worn himself out just by flying for a few hours— Unacceptable. Worse, Kakarot might guess that he wanted to get home quickly because his bladder was making him uncomfortable again— Even more unacceptable. He’d already gotten Kakarot to transport him home for that ONCE today, he wasn’t going to do it a second time. That would just be pathetic. Instant transmission was a last resort, and since at the moment his bladder was merely ANNOYING him, rather than actively trying to kill him, he didn’t need anything from Kakarot. “Let’s fly back to Bulma,” Vegeta said. “We will,” Kakarot said. “But, since we’re out this way, I should go say hi to Master Roshi.” “MUST we do that?” Vegeta sighed. Kakarot nodded, “I haven’t seen him in a while, and I wanted to ask him something. You can go home now if you want.” “Why would I need to go home?” Vegeta resumed flying in the direction of Roshi’s place. “I could keep moving all day.” Kakarot shrugged and followed after him. “Just sounded like you were getting bored.” “Of course I’m bored, you’ve been so slow!” “That’s just because I had to pee!” “Well, what’s your excuse now? I bet I could beat you the rest of the way there!” Vegeta didn’t bother to wait for Kakarot’s response, immediately speeding up and flying as fast as he could. The wind was a little chilly near the water, and it stung his face the faster he moved. It was battering other parts of his body, too. The small tremors were going right to his bladder, and he tensed his thighs to quell his building urge. Before long, Kakarot had caught up to him and surpassed him. Frustrated, Vegeta pushed himself harder to keep up. His abdomen ached, liquid sloshing and urging him to slow back down to regain control over it. He ignored it, beating Kakarot was more important They landed on Roshi’s island at about the same time, but Vegeta was quick to declare that HE’D gotten there first. His voice cracked a little as he did so, because it had been a rough landing. He was so eager to best Kakarot that he hadn’t paid any mind to how gently he let his feet touch the sand— So, he basically just slammed down, which his bladder didn’t appreciate one bit. He still felt like it was being shaken as several more seconds passed and Kakarot started up a conversation with the old man. “What brings you out here today, Goku?” Roshi asked. “Vegeta and me were gathering the dragon balls,” Kakarot said. “And, we got them all, but since we were here, I figured I should say hello.” “Ah, one of them was out my way, huh?” Roshi said. “Wish I’d found it first…” Vegeta tuned them out. He’d thought the sound of the ocean would be less grating once they got to the island, but the constant splashes against the shore were actually worse. More aggravating was the fact Vegeta just had to stand there— not showing any signs of neediness— while he knew a toilet was available just inside Roshi’s house. Yes, it was available. But, not usable. Roshi would know PRECISELY what he was going inside for, for one thing. And, more importantly, Vegeta would still bet money that Roshi had a hidden camera SOMEWHERE in his bathroom. Krillin still lived here with Eighteen after all, and there was no way Roshi wouldn’t at least TRY to get footage of her bathing. The only reason there WOULDN’T be a camera in Roshi’s restroom right now would be if Eighteen had already discovered it and destroyed it. Seeing as how Roshi still had all of his limbs intact, Vegeta had to assume Eighteen just hadn’t found it, and that it was still there. Vegeta pressed his legs together, subtly squeezing his thighs. Gah, he wished that his ears had an off-switch. If listening to running water wasn’t so irritatingly effective on him, he was sure he’d barely even need to go now. How could HE be so easily manipulated by a SOUND? How could his body react so much to a simple noise?! He considered trying to train himself out of this. He thought that maybe, when he was at home and able to relieve himself whenever he pleased, he should wait until he was desperate, go to the restroom, and FORCE himself to listen to the sink gush for a few minutes before he let himself void. If he did that enough, his body would get used to it, it would cease to be swayed like this. He wouldn’t feel his urgency increase so rapidly anytime he was near a body of water. But then, Vegeta thought better of it. Sometimes, the effect running water had on him could be a useful tool, after all. If he listened to it when he was TRYING to go, it could help him release. If that stopped working, he’d have one less attack to use against his problem. So, he’d just have to endure the discomfort those noises were causing him now. He also tried to pretend that Roshi simply just didn’t OWN a toilet, and therefor there weren’t any places around here he could even TRY to pee. Hell, as far as he was concerned, Roshi DIDN’T have a toilet. He couldn’t use it, so it may as well have not existed. Slosh… Slosh… The ocean continued to lap at the shore, and Vegeta wished he could just blow the entire thing up somehow without destroying the planet. The liquid trapped in his body kept moving in time with each splash, his opening stinging every couple seconds. He shuffled his feet a little, hands balling into fists. His tolerance was fading away rapidly. Vegeta thought Kakarot had spent ENOUGH time yammering with that old man, so he cleared his throat. He didn’t want Kakarot to notice the CAUSE of his impatience, he still wasn’t at the point where he was considering that the fool’s assistance might be necessary. He begrudgingly accepted that Kakarot probably WOULD notice, though. The idiot could be annoyingly perceptive when he wanted to be. Kakarot glanced over at Vegeta for a second— If even THAT long— then his gaze went back to Roshi. “Well, we’ve gotta go give the dragon balls to Bulma now,” he said. “It was nice catching up with you!” “See you,” Roshi said. Kakarot flew off and Vegeta followed him. Ouch… His bladder did NOT appreciate him taking flight at all. It pulsed and shuddered, forcing him to tense his thighs even more since that was the ONLY thing he could really do when he was in the air. Kakarot slowed, “You wanna teleport the rest of the way back?” Vegeta huffed, “You honestly think a long flight is too exhausting for me?!” “No… But, uh, I DO think that you really need to pee.” Vegeta grimaced. Of course he’d been able to tell. Vegeta hadn’t even felt himself shivering back there, what had given him away?! “Hey, it’s alright,” Kakarot said. “Listening to the ocean made ME have to go too, remember? So, if you wanna go home now—“ “No,” Vegeta said. “It’s— It’s not that bad, I can get there on my own.” He was NOT going to rely on Kakarot’s teleportation for a SECOND time today. If he appeared in front of Bulma and had to rush straight to their bedroom AGAIN… “Okay,” Kakarot said. “If you’re sure…” “Of course I’m sure!” Vegeta snapped. “Now, pick up the pace!” Even after he’d made that order, HE was still the one moving the slowest. His bladder was weighing him down substantially, and his feet started to kick oddly behind him, messing up his form. He was TRYING to keep them straight, but the pangs of need made that really difficult. Finally, Kakarot slowed again. “Vegeta…” “I’m fine!” Vegeta insisted. “Keep moving!” He wouldn’t admit it, but he was a little concerned that if he paused now, he wouldn’t be able to move again… Kakarot glanced around, “You know, there’s nobody out here… It’s just us. I don’t sense ANYTHING.” Vegeta came to a stop, floating in the air beside Kakarot and trying not to fidget his legs around. He failed miserably at that, and his knees continually rubbed together. “Your point…?” “If you wanna just go in the water, like I did…” “No— That’s— That’s too obvious!” Vegeta said. This area was so… Open… He could go outside, but always BEHIND something. Even if no one was out here to watch him, the vast expanse of the ocean was just— “Nobody’s gonna see…” Kakarot reiterated. “I’ll turn the other way. Oh, just make sure you pay attention to the wind this far out at sea! I forgot that earlier, and—“ “Stop talking.” Kakarot managed to remain quiet for about ten seconds. “You look… Real uncomfortable.” “Which is why I want to hurry up and get home. Now, come O—“ “Would it be better if you went UNDER the water?” Like, while you’re swimming? So you’re covered…?” Vegeta turned away. He HAD managed to pee for a few seconds while submerged in water during their camping trip. But, not only had he failed to actually finish, it had felt pretty revolting. “That’s disgusting, Kakarot. I’m not going to swim in— In my own—“ “Then, do you want me to bring you straight home?” Kakarot offered again. “I think your bladder might be worn out, you held it too long two times in a row, and now you’re gonna do it a third ti—“ “Kakarot, I’m fine.” “Then move your knees apart.” “And what’s THAT supposed to mean?!” “Do it,” Kakarot said. “If you’re okay, then move your knees apart and keep your hands behind your back.” “FINE,” Vegeta slowly edged his legs away from one another and clasped his hands behind his back. His bladder seared and the splattering water below him seemed to grow louder and louder. It began to feel like he was holding in an ocean of his own. “Nnnh—“ he twitched, legs starting to inch towards each other again, hands spasming. His middle felt heavy and painful, a pulse of urgency flared at his tip, then it started to sting and pinch, like how he felt when he was about to— “Gah—!” Frantically, Vegeta turned away from Kakarot and started to get his clothing apart. “You’re gonna—“ “Shut up, Kakarot!” Vegeta barked, freeing himself and aiming for the water below him. Nothing happened, of course. Just more searing throbs and an even more urgent desire for relief that wouldn’t come. Everything was so wide open, he wasn’t concealed at all. It didn’t matter that the only person around was Kakarot, he felt way too exposed. Why wasn’t Kakarot saying anyth— Oh, right. He’d just shouted at him NOT to. “Kakarot…?” He prompted, face burning with awkwardness. To his credit, Kakarot didn’t force him to ask. Unfortunately, he also decided to be… Himself about it. “Alright, Vegeta, you can do this! You’ve got the biggest bladder in the universe, let’s see if you can overflow the ocean!” “Kakarot!” Vegeta felt himself blushing up to his ears. “Well, I bet you could!” Kakarot added. “No one else would be able to, but you could! You’re so strong that—“ Dammit… DAMMIT, that actually worked! Vegeta had finally started to urinate as Kakarot tried to convince him that he could piss enough to overflow an ocean. Why did THAT have to work?! No, he decided Kakarot’s words had nothing to do with his sudden ability to empty himself. He would have begun to pee at that moment regardless of what Kakarot had said. As his flow increased in both speed and intensity, Vegeta wondered if Kakarot was actually right and he COULD overflow the ocean somehow. The drop in pressure taking place inside his body was incredible, and his knees started to go a little wobbly. He remembered that he was, in fact, flying at the moment when he noticed that he was starting to lower. The relief was breaking his concentration, and he had to remember to focus so that he didn’t just fall in the ocean— He shuddered at the thought, how humiliating would THAT be? In front of Kakarot, no less! After a few minutes of continuous gushing, Vegeta’s stream slowed down again and eventually stopped. He put his clothes back together and turned around. Kakarot had, indeed, faced in the opposite direction the entire time. Vegeta realized he hadn’t felt the need to look behind himself to check. He’d just… He’d trusted that Kakarot wouldn’t look. “Done?” Kakarot asked, turning around. “Were you able to fini—“ “Yes.”    Kakarot smiled, “Good job, Vege—“ “STOP SAYING THAT.” “But, it helps you,” Kakarot pointed out. Vegeta grumbled to himself. It DID, but it shouldn’t have… The rest of the flight back to Capsule Corp was uneventful. Vegeta mostly tried to forget about what had just transpired, like he did EVERY time. Of all the things that could possibly ‘help’ him with this infuriating problem, he wished it could be something other than Kakarot cheering him on. It worked, and he was glad SOMETHING did, but that didn’t mean he had to LIKE it. They arrived, and handed the dragon balls over to Bulma. “I still don’t know what you want them for,” Vegeta said. “But, there you go.” Bulma looked Vegeta over for signs of discomfort. She thought she’d gotten pretty good at noticing when he had to pee. He seemed fine now, but was certain that DIDN’T mean he’d tried to use a public toilet. From what Goku had said, Bulma shouldn’t hope for that for a long, long time. But, maybe he’d expanded his comfort zone at least a little bit the last few days. She thought that wasn’t too much to hope for. Edited May 18 by secretomoact (see edit history)
The next day, Bulma didn’t bother Vegeta as he trained. She didn’t remind him to take breaks, she didn’t ask him if perhaps he thought it was time to rest, she didn’t notify him of the time as night grew closer and closer. She wanted him to exhaust himself, so that when his body finally succumbed to the need for sleep, he would stay dead to the world for a while. He finally finished at around two in the morning, stumbling into their bedroom and basically just passing out as soon as his head hit the pillow. Bulma yawned tiredly as she watched him sleep. She could be reasonably certain that he wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon. So, she took out the dragon balls, headed outside, and summoned Shenron. “State your wish,” the dragon prompted, in its loud, booming voice. She flinched at the volume. She didn’t think ANYTHING could wake Vegeta up at this point, but she also knew how horrified he’d be if he found out she was doing this. “Shhhh,” Bulma hushed. “Keep it down… I wanted to ask if you could help Vegeta with something, but he’s really sensitive about it, so—“ “State your wish,” Shenron repeated. “Vegeta has… I did some research, the thing he has is called Paruresis. He can’t… er… ‘Go’ around other people. Could you get rid of it for him?” “You are asking me to cure him?” “Yes,” Bulma nodded. “That wish is beyond my power.” Bulma just stood there, staring for a moment. What…?! She’d been thinking this over for a while, and the only thing she’d ever been worried about was the possibility of Vegeta seeing her talking to the dragon about his issue. Not once had she considered the possibility that Shenron COULDN’T help. “Huh? But, you can bring people back from the dead! This should be easi—“ “I am capable of reviving those who have passed on, yes,” Shenron agreed. “And, I can heal some injuries. However, my powers can do nothing to repair wounds that exist inside the mind. The brain is far more complicated than the body.” “So… So, because Vegeta’s problem is psychological…” “It is up to him to heal it.” Bulma frowned. She tried to come up with a different wish that might produce the same outcome. Asking to have his memory of his childhood accident and Frieza’s taunting erased would do nothing, his problem had still been present even when he’d been repressing that. “How?” “I’m afraid I don’t have the answer,” Shenron said. “Did you have another wish?” Bulma sighed, shaking her head. “No…” Shenron vanished, and the dragon balls remained at Bulma’s feet. It was up to Vegeta to get rid of his problem… It was up to Bulma to keep pushing him towards that. Trying to coax him into using a public restroom was pushing it a bit too far for now. Bulma needed to think of something else to challenge Vegeta with. She thought if she came up with something new and ‘difficult’, but which didn’t involve any potential interactions with unfamiliar people, that would provide a good ‘next step’ for him. It didn’t take her TOO long to figure something out that would fit the criteria. She decided to propose it to him the next morning, after he’d already relieved himself. Ever since he’d started hydrating his body properly, he consistently woke up feeling horribly desperate. She knew he’d be in a more agreeable mood if he wasn’t already struggling with his bladder. After he’d finished, Bulma stopped him from leaving the bedroom. “Wait, hang on,” she said. “Before you go train, I wanted to—“ “I already missed a couple days going on that asinine quest with Kakarot, and BARELY made up for that lost time yesterday, what do you want now?!” “I just need to suggest something to you,” Bulma sighed. “Calm down.” “Fine. What?” “How about next time you use the restroom in here, when it’s just the two of us, you DON’T lock the door?” “Why would I do that? Locks exist for a REASON.” “Because you already know I’m not going to come in there while you’re using it, so you don’t really NEED to keep the door locked, do you?” “Yes,” Vegeta scoffed, like that was the most ridiculous question he’d ever been asked. “Of course I do.” “Why?” Bulma prompted. “You’re always worried about breaking it, if you can get yourself to go WITHOUT it, that will be one less thing to stress yourself out over. It might help you feel more secure.” “Do you even HEAR yourself? How would NOT using the lock make me feel more—“ “Just TRY it,” Bulma interrupted. “That’s all I’m asking. I’m not going to REMOVE the lock, it will still be there. You can use it if you need to, but I really DO just want you to give it a try.” “… What for? What purpose does this serve? I’ve got the problem under control. I can handle it easily at home now.” “You can pee in one restroom here without your body fighting against you too much,” Bulma corrected. “And, you need the lock engaged, and for me to either wait in the hallway or stay on the other side of the bedroom. Yes, that’s MUCH better than how it was before, but if you want to finally BEAT this thing, you’re going to have to push yourself a little further. Just— Just think of this the same way you think of training the OTHER parts of your body.” “It’s not the same. I’m not constantly humiliated every time I fight.” ‘Are you sure about that, Vegeta…?’ Bulma thought. She bit her tongue to keep herself from saying it. “Not locking the door isn’t humiliating, it’s not like I’m gonna open it and stare at you.” He KNEW that. He just also knew that, without a lock, he would fail to get his bladder emptied. THAT would be the humiliating part. “We’re just going to try it,” Bulma repeated. “Once you’re able to do that and you’ve gotten good at it, THEN we can try it with the door OPEN, and then with me in the room with y—“ “Absolutely not!” Vegeta snapped, mortified. Gah, the very IDEA of her SEEING him as he struggled with such a basic thing— It was bad enough that she’d already HEARD him fighting against it! “That’s still a long way off,” Bulma reasoned. “And, I’m not going to be watching, I’ll face the other wa—“ “No,” Vegeta said. She’d be so close, able to hear his breathing— The ragged, choppy breaths that he got whenever he felt… like… that… “It’s not for a while,” Bulma reiterated. “First, we have to get you used to not using the lock.” “Not doing it.” Bulma sighed, “Since when do you back down from a challenge?” “This isn’t a challenge. It’s just idiotic. Locks exist for a purpose, there is NO benefit in me doing th—“ “I REALLY think it’s a good next-step for you…” “I am managing the problem perfectly well. I have a system worked out now.” “Your ‘system’ is just holding it constantly and flying back home every time you need to go… The prince of all Saiyans shouldn’t be intimidated by an unlocked door, right?” “I’m not intimidated!” Vegeta insisted, furrowing his brow. “I just see no reason to engage in something so pointless!” Bulma rubbed her forehead, then sighed again. She’d pressed every one of Vegeta’s buttons that she could think of now, except for one. “… GOKU would be able to do it. So, YOU must be able to—“ “Of course I can!” Vegeta said. “And, I can do it MUCH better than Kakarot!” Bulma wasn’t entirely sure how someone could piss behind an unlocked door ‘better’ than someone else, but now that she was finally on the right track, she wasn’t going to ask. “Alright, then prove it to me.” “Fine, I will!” Whenever Vegeta took a break from training that day, Bulma encouraged him to drink some water. He was even more reluctant than usual, which she’d expected. Finally, she had to give him an ultimatum; If he didn’t hydrate himself, then she wasn’t going to allow him to use the gravity room for the rest of the day. That got him to comply, but he glowered the whole time. When he returned to their bedroom that evening, he was obviously uncomfortable and weighted down by his full bladder. Normally, he’d go use the restroom now. Today, he didn’t even glance at it before laying down in bed, legs shifting around slightly. Bulma watched him fidgeting, clearly needing to pee and making no attempt to do anything about that. The most baffling thing to her about his problem was all of the avoidance, the way that he often wouldn’t even try without being goaded into it. That wasn’t how he’d ever faced any of his other enemies. ‘If he loses a fight, he can at least think about how it still made him stronger,’ Bulma thought. ‘He doesn’t see this the same way.’ If anything, every time he ‘lost’ against this particular opponent, he was just set BACK further. That was what was so tricky about this. If Vegeta COULDN’T go with the door unlocked tonight, it was going to be even harder to convince him to try it again. “You don’t lock the door when you shower,” Bulma remarked. “You don’t even care if I walk right in— You never have.” Vegeta flinched, and she noticed him glaring down at his twitching legs, slowly forcing them to go still. “What are you talking about?” “You need to pee,” Bulma stated calmly. “And, if you don’t need the lock while you’re showering, this should be fine too, right? You’re not exposing nearly as much—“ “It’s not— It isn’t about ‘exposure’, I keep telling you,” Vegeta said. “It’s— It’s people knowing that I— That—“ “That you need things?” Bulma guessed. “That even YOU can’t hold it forever?” “K—Kind of,” Vegeta admitted. “That’s part of it.” He didn’t know how to explain that the MAIN thing that set him off and made it hard to go was the idea of someone NOTICING that he couldn’t go. It was such a ridiculous thing; He couldn’t pee, because he was nervous someone would realize that he couldn’t pee, which made it even more difficult to pee. It was an endless feedback loop full of spiraling, asinine thoughts that had NO right infiltrating his head. The problem existed because he couldn’t bear the thought of another person paying attention to the problem. To make it even more ridiculous, Bulma already KNEW about it, so he shouldn’t have BEEN so bothered by the idea of her sitting out here while he failed to piss behind an unlocked door. That was probably what she was EXPECTING. She was expecting him to struggle for a while, until he couldn’t take the pressure anymore and HAD to move the lock back into place where it belonged. Then, she’d say “Oh well, we can try that again later.” She wouldn’t mock him over it, she hadn’t even come CLOSE to teasing him about this for a long while. “What are the other parts?” Bulma prompted. “It’s… Someone noticing that I ca— There shouldn’t be things that I can’t do.” “So… You can’t pee, because you’re worried someone will notice that you can’t pee?” When he heard it out loud, it sounded even stupider. Bulma sucked in a deep breath. She knew Vegeta wasn’t going to like this word… “You don’t like how it makes you feel… Maybe a little vulnerable?” “I NEVER feel vulner—“ “It’s OKAY to be vulnerable sometimes, you know?” Bulma said. “Like here, we’re talking about it, and you’re just fine.” “Vegeta turned away, blushing hard. “Just because you FORCE me to discuss this with you doesn’t mean I’m suddenly okay with doing i—“ “Vegeta, I’m the person you SHOULD let yourself be vulnerable around,” Bulma told him. “That’s why I think you CAN manage to go without a lock when it’s just us here.” Vegeta turned away. He didn’t even understand why locks were SO important to him. The majority of people he’d known throughout his life could easily just break a locked door down if they were THAT intent on watching him pee for whatever reason. He knew that locking the door barely even counted as a precaution. But, without the added FEELING of security— however false he knew it was deep down— his ability to void diminished tremendously. He knew that, if he attempted this, he would fail. And then Bulma would know that he’d failed because he already had to go badly enough that his legs didn’t want to stay still. Add on a few minutes of staring at the toilet, incapable of using it, and when he got back in bed he was sure to squirm much more obviously. “Well… Goodnight,” he said, laying down the rest of the way. “Nope,” Bulma said. “I’m not going to let you go to sleep until after you’ve peed.” Vegeta hadn’t been planning to actually sleep without pissing first, he’d only wanted BULMA to go to bed so that he could handle his need without anyone forcing him to leave the door unlocked. “I’m fine, let’s just go to—“ “No,” Bulma repeated. “I’ll stay up all night with you if I have to You won’t be able to put it off forever.” “You’ll fall asleep eventually…“   Bulma groaned. She didn’t WANT to do this, but he was leaving her no choice. “Do you want to risk falling asleep after ALL that water today? You remember what happened to you bef—“ “ONE TIME,” Vegeta interrupted. “And, I can tell when I’m dreaming now, it won’t ever happen agai—“ “It’s just the lock…” Bulma reiterated. “The door will still be shut. Please, just TRY it. You won’t get better if you don’t keep working.” She sighed. Time to push that button again… “Goku can do it, remember?” “Kakarot is a shameless idiot,” Vegeta stated. He recalled that this had convinced him to agree to Bulma’s asinine suggestion earlier, but back then the evening had felt so far away. Now that he was faced with having to actually DO this, hyper-aware of his odds of failure, it did little to dislodge his reluctance. His bladder had been aching for quite some time now, too. His body had gotten VERY used to him peeing as soon as he got to this place each night. The non-stop, sharp spasming throbs told him that it wasn’t pleased with him for continuing to wait. He tensed his thighs and shifted uncomfortably. If Bulma would just drop this and go to sleep… Bulma frowned. Even THAT hadn’t worked? She tried to come up with something else, but the Goku-Button had always been a fail-safe! It worked like magic to get Vegeta to do literally anything. She didn’t know what to try when even IT ceased to be effective. And he was squirming. A lot. He looked like he was trying to crawl out of his skin. His fingers were gripping the bedsheets, his legs were fidgeting out in front of him. He was tense enough that he was twitching. All of the usual signs that meant his bladder was currently filled to a level that would cause anyone else to burst. She was concerned that the kidney pain he’d complained of would be making itself known soon. She didn’t think it had started up yet, since he hadn’t made any unusual, strangled noises, but she didn’t think they had much time left before it did. She hoped that, if it DID start, he’d accept that he really couldn’t hold it and finally try to go. It was awful that it had to come to that, but it really looked like the only way he’d give in was if HE finally felt desperate to do so. Maybe that was what she should do, find a way to make his urgency grow until it became intolerable for him. How could she… There was no way in Hell that she’d be able to get any more water down his throat. If she started blathering about waterfalls, he’d immediately know what she was doing and become enraged. She was too nervous to ‘accidentally’ push on his bladder, for fear that she’d end up damaging it. She’d seen him react a bit to the sound of running water before, she knew that it DID amplify his need… And, recalling the night she’d had to… Awkwardly ‘help’ him go, there were certain phrases that made his holding muscles loosen… “Well, okay,” Bulma said. “I’ll just go take my shower, then.” Vegeta flinched, almost imperceptibly. He probably had SOME idea as to what she was trying to do to him. “But— You’re in your pajamas, haven’t you already—“ “I’d like to take another,” Bulma said. “Arguing with you is so exhausting that it made me work up a sweat. You just wait here, I’ll only be a couple minutes. That should give you time to think about my suggestion a little more.” “… Fine, but my answer is still going to be ‘no’,” Vegeta huffed. Maybe when she got back, she’d finally go to sleep and leave him alone about this. Then he could piss behind the LOCKED door as much as he wanted. Hopefully, she would drop the subject after tonight, it was going to be a serious pain if this became a daily occurrence. “We’ll see.” His bladder throbbed again as he laid himself back down, “I’ll probably be asleep by the time you get back anyway. Your showers are entirely too long.” Vegeta knew there was zero chance of him falling asleep when his abdomen was sending him constant pulsing pangs, but he thought that if he PRETENDED to be asleep when Bulma returned, she’d shrug, think ‘Well, there’s nothing I can do now,’ and go straight to bed. “We’ll see,” Bulma repeated, heading towards the restroom. A moment later, Vegeta heard the hissing spray of the shower’s faucet, and his eyes widened as his bladder gave a furious lurch, feeling for a second like it was about to collapse in on itself before, with a lot of leg crossing, he was able to calm it back down again. Even when he’d KNOWN that he’d be hearing running water sounds, even when he’d been able to PREPARE himself for them, he’d been unable to lessen the severity of his body’s natural reaction to the suggestive noises. At least he was alone, he could… Permit himself to do a bit of writhing, more than he’d allowed when Bulma’s eyes had been upon him. He turned onto his side, knees rubbing together as he gave himself a short squeeze. That helped, but he swore the water was getting louder, swirling around inside his head, flowing directly into his bladder. Stupid Saiyan hearing… If he was human, like Bulma, he knew he wouldn’t be able to hear anything coming from the restroom. Bulma couldn’t hear him pee from bed, he KNEW that. He also knew that she wouldn’t open the door even if it WAS unlocked. Ignoring the lock wouldn’t make the situation THAT different from how it was normally. He should have just— Screw it. Whatever. Once Bulma got back, if she didn’t fall asleep within…. Ten minutes or so, then MAYBE he’d consider it. But, right now? He was fine. He was perfectly fine. He wasn’t regretting anything, and he didn’t wish he could go back in time a few minutes to say “Actually, Bulma, I suppose I could try this stupid idea of yours, just this once.” He didn’t. Not at all. Because he was fine, and being subjected to the sound of water hissing furiously wasn’t causing him to frantically rub his legs together at all. Nor did he need to keep his hands pinned in between them. He was fine, he was fine… Vegeta turned around onto his other side, trying to see if that direction would somehow feel better. It didn’t. He just made his bladder slosh with the motion, liquid battering even more angrily against his opening. He tightened his grip on himself in response to a sick tremor that tore through his abdomen. ‘Stop this,’ Vegeta thought. ‘You’re the Prince of all Saiyans, you can’t come apart just because of an annoying sound…’ But, the sound was MORE than just annoying, it was practically torturous. His bladder was continually squeezing, trying to force out every drop that it was containing. It was only with a great deal of straining that he was able to ward off all the leaks that kept trying to dribble out. Bulma had been in there for so long, and Vegeta wasn’t sure how much longer he could endure those noises without starting to spill over. Dammit… He’d had more than ENOUGH of this. He forced himself to his feet, shaking his overfull bladder once more and cringing as the boiling liquid within him stung its sensitive walls. He wasn’t able to walk to the door in a way that looked dignified, and he was just thankful no one was around to witness his pained, hunched over hobble. He knocked on the door, “Aren’t you finished yet?” He’d intended to sound commanding, but his voice had cracked at the end, making his demand sound more like a plea, much to his dismay. “Nearly,” Bulma called back. “Why…?” “I— Uh— N—No reason,” Vegeta said, he tried to yawn, but the action made his skin pull tighter around the distended curve of his bladder. “J—Just— Sleepy, and the sound is— Is— Keeping me awake.” “Oh…” Bulma said. She continued to stand under the shower-head. She made no move to turn off the water. Vegeta had been so stubborn this evening, he wasn’t going to get what he wanted until he actually asked for it. It would be nice if he added something like “You were right, Bulma, I shouldn’t have made such a big deal about it,” but she knew better than to hope for that. Hopefully he’d cooperate soon, and she wouldn’t have to resort to the next phase of the plan. She stayed there for several more minutes before she heard another knock. “Er… It’s been long enough!” Vegeta said, voice raised, but trembling. She could picture the appalled, embarrassed look on his face at the sound. “Almost done,” Bulma said. “It’s just— I— Um— I would— I would like to relieve myself soon…” Nearly there… “Oh?” Bulma asked. “But, earlier you wouldn’t. Does this mean you’re ready to try with the door unlocked?” She waited for a response. A long minute passed without one. Damn, it was time for phase two. She really hadn’t wanted to do this to him… “Well, if not, I guess you’ll have to wait until I decide I’m done showering.” On the other side of the door, Vegeta gritted his teeth. How long was THAT going to take? It had been ages already, he felt aching pressure all through his body. Like, he needed to void so much that the liquid was trying to cram itself into whatever space it could find. “But,” he heard Bulma add. “I’m sure that won’t be a problem for you, will it? You’re SO strong.” Vegeta’s burning holding muscles stung even more, his bladder cramping enough to send him doubling over. The sick pulse had come on suddenly, no build-up, no warning. He very nearly leaked, just barely holding it back through willpower alone. “You’re so tough, I know you can handle this,” Bulma said. “Or you can find somewhere else to go. There are other bathrooms here, I’m sure you can find one you can use. You’re so powerful, you’ll be able to beat your problem out there somehow.” Another intense, earthquake of a spasm forced him to bend at the knees, holding himself even tighter. He flinched at the pain he unintentionally caused himself and tried to gently loosen his grip, just in time for a single droplet of urine to bead its way out. It was immediately replaced with another, and anoth— “Yep, you’re WAY too strong to—“ “Ah—!” Vegeta choked out a gasp as longer, more intense leak hissed into his clothes. Dammit! She— She KNEW that hearing this nonsense helped him to— She was TRYING to make him— She was going to come out and see him soaked, and— “If you don’t get out immediately, I w—will have no choice but to—“ “The door is unlocked,” Bulma said. Yes. And she was still IN there! “D—Dammit, I—“ “Are you ready to try?” He WAS, he was BEYOND ready, his bladder hurt so bad, and he could feel some warning pulses in his lower back too. If he didn’t get this taken care of soon… He realized Bulma wanted an answer. She wanted him to actually SAY it… And, after all that arguing, he wasn’t sure if he could. It would be admitting defeat… “Mmf…” “What was that?” “Hnnn…” “If you don’t tell me…” Bulma trailed off. Vegeta knew the rest well enough. “Nnnh…” “I know you can speak up!” Bulma said. She sounded so freaking happy. If Vegeta didn’t know any better, he’d think she was having fun doing this… How dare she? “Your voice is usually so LOUD, Vegeta. Makes sense, strong, tough guy like you has got to have a powerful voi—“ Vegeta’s bladder throbbed so hard that, for a second, he wasn’t able to even see straight. It felt like his entire midsection was exploding, his back erupted in agony, the pangs creeping further upwards, and he leaked once more. It took him an entire second to be able to stop it, and— Vegeta yanked the door open. “Out,” he stated as he stepped inside. Bulma jumped slightly, watching him twitch and fidget next to the toilet. One hand was stuck between his legs, and the other kept tentatively moving to undo his clothing, only for him to continually draw it back. She hadn’t expected him to do this… “Wha—What?” “Out,” he repeated. “Enough of this game. Y—You know what I—… What I want to do. So, get out, before I—“ Bulma switched off the shower, and she could see Vegeta visibly lose some tension at the removal of the noise. “I have to get my clo—“ “Out,” Vegeta said once more. He appeared to be buzzing, and Bulma wasn’t sure if it was from the severity of his desperation or the intensity of the embarrassment surely flaring through him. She’d… She’d pushed this too hard. His body had forced him into doing something so desperate, so far out of his comfort zone. He was now in an extremely vulnerable position, and she knew he hated that with every fibre of his being. She got out of the shower, reached for her bathrobe and wrapped it around herself. “I’m s—“ Vegeta’s eyes widened for a second, and the hand that had been TRYING to work his clothing apart was finally allowed to act. He aimed at the toilet, and a few errant droplets were squeezed out before he couldn’t manage any more. His shaking intensified, he turned bright red all the way up to his ears, down his neck. Bulma had never actually SEEN what he looked like in these moments and, for a second, she just stared— The absolute LAST thing Vegeta would want her to do. ‘Fuckfuckfuckfuck!’ Vegeta screamed mentally. She was WATCHING him, when he was— Gah! His chest had never felt colder. It was like his entire upper body had gotten dipped in ice, his lower body was alight in flames from the ever increasing desperation. Why the fuck hadn’t he just agreed with Bulma earlier?! This was worse than leaving the door unlocked could have EVER been! This was the worst thing POSSIBLE. This was— This was— His throat started to constrict, his lungs started to struggle. And, suddenly, his hearing actually HAD kind of switched off, like he’d WISHED it would have earlier. All he could hear was this intense ringing in his ears. Nonononono, not THIS, please not this! His wife was standing there, watching him fail to piss in a fucking toilet, and now he’d forgotten how to breathe again. It was IMPOSSIBLE for this to get worse, nothing could top this humiliation, nothing could— “V—Vegeta, breathe…” Bulma said nervously. She didn’t know what to do, this was her fault for pushing him so much. When he’d started to argue, she should have thought ‘Okay, he’s not ready for this after all, we can try again later.’ She shouldn’t have tried to force him, this was going to set him back SO far, and nothing she said to him would make it better. Right…? “O—Oh, wow, this— This enemy of yours is really strong!” Bulma stammered, having NO idea what she was even doing. “A—And you have to fight it every time you need to pee and, wow, you always manage to beat it eventually, don’t you? That must be SO hard, right? I kn—know I could never do it!” His breathing was evening out, that was… That was good. “I b—bet you’re the only one who CAN beat this!” That was what the dragon had said, anyway. Vegeta had to defeat this himself, no one else cou— At that thought, she had some idea of what might REALLY calm him down. “Y—You know what? I—If Goku ev—ever woke up one day and had to deal with this, there’s no WAY he’d be able to work through it as well as you do!” A second later, she heard more liquid pattering against liquid, and Vegeta frantically huffing out; “Turn around! Just— At least turn around!” Bulma did, whirling to face the still-open door instead of him, and as she did so, she heard Vegeta’s stream pick up into a rushing, forceful gush, and she was close enough to hear how his breathing calmed down tremendously. Well… He was peeing with the door open, and with her in the room… She’d gotten him all the way to the last of her ‘steps’ tonight, but she just felt awful about it. As far as she could tell, she’d really only gotten his bladder to explode when he was lucky enough to be in the right place for it to happen. She knew he was humiliated beyond all reason, and that this experience was going to just make everything WORSE for him. He was also going to be furious with her. He’d been so upset the night she’d ACCIDENTALLY overheard him going. This time, she’d unintentionally orchestrated a situation that caused him to lose all control of himself in front of her. The only way she could have screwed up more was if she’d made him actually wet himself. Vegeta’s eyes were scrunched closed as he peed. He couldn’t open them. He couldn’t remind himself of Bulma’s presence. He could clearly sense her beside him, and that was bad enough. He couldn’t be forced to see her too. He knew pissing with his eyes closed was a pretty terrible idea, but from the sounds of things his stream was ending up where it belonged at least. Gah, the SOUND, it was so noisy, and he couldn’t even do anything to slow it down so it would be a little softer! This was so embarrassing… And, of course, it had to feel fucking amazing, too. He was debasing himself in front of Bulma, and his body was still being inundated with untold amounts of pleasure and relief. His bladder finally easing back down to a manageable size, and his exhausted holding muscles no longer being forced to tie themselves up in knots felt wonderful. If this wasn’t also the most humiliating moment of Vegeta’s life, he would have been able to really enjoy it. Bulma’s neck prickled the longer Vegeta peed. Being RIGHT next to him while he did it, aware of just how forceful his stream was, made it even more troubling that it always carried on for such an extreme amount of time. She made him drink three liters of water a day, and she was certain every last drop of that was coming out now. Even accounting for his alien biology, he was hurting himself. Well. No. Tonight, SHE’D been the one hurting him. If she’d dropped the subject, he would have gone a while ago, like always. He wouldn’t have been brought to the limit like this. This was her fault. She really hoped she hadn’t subjected him to the kidney pain too. Vegeta finally finished. She heard him fixing his clothes and wiping off the rim of the toilet bowl. She HAD noticed him shutting his eyes as he’d started to pee, and had needed to stop herself from instinctively scolding him. If he needed to keep his eyes closed, then he could keep them closed. He washed his hands without once turning towards her, then he very briskly rushed out of the room. Bulma was worried that he was going to go find somewhere else to sleep tonight, too embarrassed to stay next to her. To her relief, he was laying in their bed, staring up at the ceiling. Awkwardly, she laid beside him, unsure what to say. “I’m… I’m sorry, I… Pushed you too much.” He didn’t respond. “Are you alright?” “I can’t believe I did that…” His voice was so much softer than what she was used to. “I’m sorry,” Bulma repeated. “I wanted to help, but that was too much. I promise, I won’t do anything like that again. This is YOUR thing, YOU decide how we deal with it— I don’t even have to be involved at all if you don’t want me to be.” “I actually…” Vegeta trailed off, then he sat up. “Wait… I was ABLE to do that.” “I know, I made you hold it too l—“ “No,” Vegeta interrupted. “You don’t under— Normally, no matter how severe my… urge is, if someone’s there, it won’t work. That’s why— That’s why the kidney thing you’re so concerned about happens. But, tonight I—I defeated it!” So, it wasn’t just that she’d made him break his limit? That’s right, breaking his limit didn’t mean that he peed, it meant that his urine started to back-flow. Since he’d managed to go, that meant— Well, at the very least, it meant that the Goku-Button still worked. But, she hoped it also meant that what she’d said earlier about it being okay for him to be vulnerable with her was sinking in.
After that, Bulma noticed that Vegeta left the door unlocked sometimes. It wasn’t very often, and he only did it at night once Trunks had been sent to bed and he no longer needed to worry about him running into their room. It was still major progress. Bulma chose not to call attention to it, just felt relieved any time he left to pee and she didn’t hear the lock being messed with. There were a few occasions where a couple minutes of silence would follow him entering the restroom, and then she’d overhear him mumbling frustratedly before going back to lock the door, but she was thrilled that he was even trying. Other times, he’d go in, leave the door unlocked, and actually manage to pee. A few months ago, he likely wouldn’t have imagined that being possible. Bulma ‘pushing’ him so hard HAD gotten him to take a big step. She didn’t want to do it again, though. As much as it looked like ‘forcing and shoving’ were the only things that WORKED to convince him to try these things, she knew how horrified he was that she’d seen him so frantic, needy and vulnerable for a few minutes there. She wanted him to understand that it was perfectly fine to let himself be vulnerable with her, that she was the one person he should feel comfortable expressing those feelings around, but FORCING him to feel that way again would be torturing him. Vegeta wanted to deal with this at his own pace. Unfortunately, that pace was just very slow. He insisted that the problem was ‘handled’ now, that being able to relieve himself easily while at home meant that it was resolved. True, getting home fast enough was seldom a problem for a person that could fly, but there were going to be times where he couldn’t just leave in the middle of something, and would have to either pee where he was or hold it until he got hurt. Over the course of her research into Vegeta’s problem, Bulma had also discovered that, if his bladder was full and refusing to empty, a significant blow to the right spot in his lower abdomen could seriously injure him. She was positive he must have fought while extremely desperate in the past, and was grateful nothing terrible had happened as a result, but if he carried on like this, eventually he might not be so lucky. Bulma wanted the problem fixed and gone immediately so that she could stop worrying so much about it. She was so disappointed that the dragon balls hadn’t been able to help, and she continually tried to come up with alternative wishes that might grant the same outcome. She just couldn’t think of any. She knew Vegeta wanted it completely gone too. The amount of shame it brought him was clearly astronomical. He couldn’t see this enemy the way he saw all of his other ones. But, Bulma had continually tried to MAKE him see it that way. Maybe that was the issue? Presenting each new thing as a ‘challenge’ and trying to rile him up, playing into the fact that he always treated everything like a battle. That might have just made it hurt worse any time he failed, adding to his reluctance to keep trying. Perhaps, she should handle this with more subtlety somehow, rather than simply TELLING him what he should try next and arguing with him until he got so desperate that he complied. She wasn’t sure what exactly to do, though. * Vegeta knew he was dreaming. He saw Kakarot right in front of him, but couldn’t sense him. So, he knew he wasn’t ACTUALLY stuck on that annoying running water planet Frieza had sent him to ages ago. He knew he was at home, in bed, and that all he had to do to get rid of the horrific pressure knotting up his bladder was wake up. But, he couldn’t wake up. His brain was being a stubborn asshole and keeping him trapped here. No matter how many times he tried to control his chi and send it flaring through his body, the adrenaline rush wouldn’t arrive, and he remained here. Here. Where he was surrounded by waterfalls. And by trees that had cameras stuck to them for some inane reason— Likely just because his brain was an asshole. And Kakarot… Kakarot even had to show up in his dreams to annoy him, didn’t he?! “Just destroy all the cameras with your chi,” Kakarot said. “Then, you can go!” “Kakarot…” “Oh, looks like you maybe can’t move your hands,” Kakarot decided. “I’ll get rid of them for you!” Since Vegeta knew he was dreaming, he saw no reason to stop holding himself. Why should he feel embarrassed in front of an imaginary Kakarot? He squeezed himself a little tighter just out of spite, in fact! The clutching didn’t seem to be bringing him any relief, though. He wondered if his real-world hands weren’t actually wedged between his legs like he wanted them to be.   “Don’t bother,” he told Kakarot. “I know I’m sleeping. If I piss here, I’ll just have a bigger problem to deal with. You SHOULD be trying to wake me up.” “… You look like you’re awake,” Kakarot said. “Your eyes are ope—“ “I don’t sense your chi, and I haven’t been anywhere near this planet in years,” Vegeta said. “I KNOW I’m not awake!” * Bulma woke in the early hours of the morning, needing to pee. She groaned. This was so annoying, and it was always so hard to get back to sleep afterwar— Awww, Vegeta was holding her! He was actually cuddling a little! He must have been DEEP asleep to be doing that! He was the least snuggly person in the universe, he only ever got this way when he was sleeping and unaware of it. She supposed he must have been a TINY bit aware of it, though. Because, when he did this, he never squeezed her too hard, he never hurt her. On some level, he must have realized that he was grabbing onto her. Bulma enjoyed it when this happened, and she was almost reluctant to get up and leave his embrace. She really DID need the bathroom, though. If she stayed here in his warm arms too much longer, she could end up falling back asleep, which could easily be a disaster. She started to get u— Right… He may have been GENTLY pulling her against his body, but she was STILL in the arms of a Saiyan. Gentle for him was still quite strong for anyone else. She wasn’t getting up until he let go. Uncomfortable, Bulma squirmed slightly, hoping that might wake him up for a second. It didn’t. She wondered if Chi-Chi ever had to deal with this with Goku. She had a feeling that Goku was a lot more prone to cuddling than Vegeta was… * So far, Kakarot had tried pinching Vegeta, hitting him, and imitating the sound of an alarm clock. Vegeta still couldn’t wake up, and he was significantly more desperate to do so. He recalled how much water he’d had right before bed, since he still saved the majority of it for the evening. All of it had filtered through his system by now, urgently trying to claw its way back out. He was letting himself squirm, but it wasn’t doing much good. Worse than his urgent need for relief was the sheer frustration of it all. He KNEW that there was a toilet he could use just a few paces from his current position, not being able to GET to it because his own brain had chosen to torture him was pissing him off to no end. Nnnh, ‘pissing’ him off… He needed to think of new terms to describe his rage with… “I know!” Kakarot said. “I’ll scare you awake!” “Feh, good luck with THAT, Kakarot!” Vegeta said. He uncrossed his legs, tangled them back in the other direction. It didn’t even make the smallest dent in his desperation. He felt like he was going to overflow, muscles spasming as heat brutally ebbed down his length. He didn’t feel anything spill out, and he REFUSED to let himself wet the bed again, not when he KNEW he was sleeping! “I’m not afraid of ANYTHING!” “Then, I guess you won’t mind meeting my new friend…” Kakarot said. Vegeta felt his bladder’s inner walls beginning to squeeze again, this time with much more force. The liquid filling him up wanted release so bad, he had to concentrate hard to keep it back. * Bulma was now fully awake, she no longer had to worry about falling asleep again. She needed to pee too badly for that to happen, her body couldn’t rest. Vegeta still hadn’t let go of her, though, in fact he was grasping her even tighter, if anything. Still not enough to cause any pain, apart from the pain involved with having to hold in her bladder. “Vegeta,” she hissed out. “Wake up for a second!” She squirmed against him, wondering why her restless movement hadn’t been enough to disturb his sleep. He didn’t look comfortable, either. His brows were furrowed, which she supposed was normal, but his jaw was really tense too. And he was shuddering slightly, legs moving around beneath the sheets. It looked like he was having a nightmare of some sort, something he’d vehemently deny if asked. She nudged him with her foot slightly, “Get up!” She said, louder this time. * “Here he is!” Kakarot declared, holding out a small, slimy, pink worm. Vegeta stared at it, unable to look away. He stopped squirming for a second, having momentarily forgotten how to move. ‘It’s not real, you’re imagining it.’ “Wha— Why are you showing me this?!” He demanded. His bladder spasmed sharply, and his thighs tensed up in an attempt to keep the flood inside him. The liquid was sloshing hard against his opening, but he HAD to keep it in. He was never going to wet the bed again, he would rather die! “You’re supposed to be helping me wake up!” “I think this little guy might do the trick,” Kakarot said. “Say hello…” He stepped closer to Vegeta, whom took a step back, wincing as the pressure within him grew. “I— I can see it just fine from here, thank you.” “Come on, Vegeta, he’s nice,” Kakarot said, coming closer once more. A fresh wave of desperation overtook Vegeta as Kakarot decided to put the worm ON his arm! It was… It was touching him, and even if it was just a dream, it FELT real, it was all slippery, and oozing, and— “K—K—Kakar—Kakarot!” It was all he could say. There was a worm TOUCHING him, and he had to PISS, and he couldn’t just wake up! “He likes you!” Kakarot said. Dream-Kakarot was so much worse than Real-Kakarot! * Bulma was beginning to grow VERY concerned that she was going to cause Vegeta to wake up in soaked sheets again. And SHE wouldn’t even have the excuse of being asleep during her accident. No, she’d just had the misfortune of being grasped onto by a ridiculously strong alien when she REALLY needed to be able to stand up. She’d tried nudging his ankle a few more times, but that hadn’t done anything. She knew she needed to do it harder for it to actually phase him. She knew there was no chance of her accidentally bruising him, either. It was just hard to KICK someone that was sleeping so soundly and snuggling up to her— Especially when moments like this with him were so rare. He was shaking more, confirming that he was indeed having a nightmare— He’d probably APPRECIATE being woken up out of it, right? She groaned and nudged him a little harder. When that failed, she kicked against his leg and snapped, “Get up, Vegeta!” His eyes blearily blinked open, and he started to let go of her. Finally… Vegeta yawned, “Th—Thank you…” he said in a muffled, sleep-infused voice. Wait— Did Vegeta ACTUALLY just say— That must have been a really bad nightma— He quickly got out of the bed and walked on very stiff legs to the restroom, shutting the door. … … Dammit… Bulma couldn’t allow herself to dwell on the fact that Vegeta had FINALLY learned how to say ‘thank you’— albeit, while barely even awake and cognizant of it. He HADN’T been having a nightmare, he’d been having a different type of unpleasant dream. And now she was going to have to wait here and listen to the results of that dream. She REALLY hoped he was at least able to get STARTED quickly, though she had no doubts that it would take him a long time to finish. * Vegeta rubbed his eyes, squinting hard after he switched on the light in the restroom. He wasn’t even sure why he’d done it, Saiyans could see perfectly well in the dark. Annoying himself further, he glanced at his arm to CONFIRM that it was free of slime. Even though he KNEW the stupid worm had been a figment of his imagination, he still felt like it was there… As his eyes adjusted to the bright light, his bladder gave a horrendous throb and he hurriedly situated himself in front of the toilet. His insides just cramped up even more harshly, heat stabbing at his opening. ‘Dammit— Come on, just work!’ A few halting dribbles seeped out, stinging as they burned forth. He forced himself to push against that, drawing out a longer spurt, then another. Then, at last, the thunderous stream he’d been holding back for so long. The lessening of pressure felt wonderful, his lips parted in utter bliss. He was still sleepy, which made it even harder to avoid vocalizing his relief. His mind was all foggy and hazy, tiredness and relief making it hard to think clearly, to remember WHO he was, and that the prince of all Saiyans did NOT moan while engaged in such an embarrassing activity! “Ahhh….” * Bulma always felt a little uncomfortable listening to Vegeta go. She knew he didn’t WANT her to hear it gushing out like that, and the amount he released never ceased to concern her. This time, she felt more uncomfortable than ever. Having to hear him pee SO much for SO long while she also needed to go badly brought it to an all new level. She crossed her legs tightly as his overburdened bladder continued to spill noisily from the other side of the door. She gritted her teeth and kept her hands gripped at her sides. She was NOT going to say anything, she was NOT going to knock on the door. She was NOT going to ask if he was nearly done, or if he could hurry up. Vegeta would have an awful reaction to that. He’d probably stop peeing long before he was finished, his anxiety worsening as he endured the aches of being forced to stop mid-stream. It would take him ages to be able to resume relieving himself afterwards. Vegeta NEEDED to be left alone. This would be over a lot faster if she just stayed quiet and let him feel secure in his privacy. But, a glance at the clock told her he’d only been going for a minute so far. That meant he still had a lot more to get out, and she couldn’t stop squirming as she waited. If she held still, even for a second, she doubted it would end well. There were other restrooms, but some of the employees would be in by now. And, well… It was vain and silly, but she didn’t want to be seen by too many people while she was in her pajamas and her hair was still mussed up from sleeping. And… Okay, maybe she was ALSO a little worried that walking around too much would make her bladder burst… ‘Vegeta, please hurry up…’ she thought. Though, with as loud as his stream was, he was probably pissing as fast as possible… Then, she heard him… moan… Of course, she HAD heard him moan before. She’d MADE him moan plenty of times. She’d never heard him do it so loudly while peeing, though. It was a weird thing to imagine him doing. * Oh, why had he sighed like that?! It was humiliating! He couldn’t help it! He was too sleep-addled to control himself as well as he usually could! He hoped Bulma hadn’t been close enough to the door to hear that. And, he wished his bladder would hurry up and finish draining, now that he’d lost control of his mouth, his embarrassment had increased tenfold. He considered himself lucky that the emotions hadn’t made him lock back up again. * Vegeta stopped peeing for a moment, but Bulma didn’t dare hope that he was done already. Sure enough, his stream resumed just a second later, as fast and loud as ever. He sounded like a broken bath faucet.. How had he been so sound asleep with his bladder so full?! The pain of it should have woken him up long before Bulma did. ‘Come ON, Vegeta…’ Bulma thought, turning her knees towards one another. ‘You’re not the only one that has to go.’ The temptation to ask him to hurry was very strong. She knew that, as soon as the first word was out of her mouth, Vegeta would cease peeing— Whether he was actually finished or not. Chances were, he’d get angry and just storm out of the room, huffing and cursing at the fact that he’d need to try again later. One word, and the restroom would be vacant. Vegeta would be beyond furious, of course. ‘Woman, what is WRONG with you?’ He’d yell. ‘You know FAR better than to speak to me when I’m… attending to that!’ Bulma could deal with him being grouchy, that was his default emotion anyway. But, then there was always the chance that she’d accidentally undo some of the progress he’d made. Vegeta’s ‘problem’ was even more volatile than his temper, doing anything to worsen it would be horrible. ‘Just wait…’ Bulma told herself. ‘He HAS to be done soon…’ But, she knew how huge his bladder was, she knew how long it typically took him to empty it. It had been around three minutes now, and the watery sounds in the other room hadn’t even started to dwindle. When the flow finally did end, Bulma was surprised that she hadn’t leaked yet. Five straight minutes of listening to Vegeta piss while holding her bladder had to count as some form of torture. At last, the door opened again and Vegeta’s grogginess seemed to vanish entirely when he saw her standing so close to it. “H—How long were you—“ “Not long!” Bulma promised. “I only heard the sink, I swear!” Vegeta’s face reddened anyway. He checked the clock, then headed back to bed. A moment later, he could hear Bulma peeing, which made him blush more. He felt the exact same level of awkwardness he would have experienced had she been listening to him go. At least she hadn’t heard him tonight— Especially that embarrassing… vocalization he hadn’t been able to stop. * Vegeta had promised to spend the next day with Trunks, but he’d THOUGHT that would involve the two of them training together. That was what their father-son days typically consisted of, after all. He’d also assumed that, whatever they did, it would just be the two of them— No involvement from that blasted Kakarot! Vegeta was wrong on both counts. Kakarot was taking Goten to the amusement park, and Trunks begged to go as well. Vegeta had struggled not to roll his eyes. What was the point of going to such a place? As far as he understood it, the Earthlings constructed amusement parks because the vast majority of them lacked the ability to fly. The steel contraptions in those parks thus became the humans’ closest equivalent to flight. But, Trunks could fly perfectly well, so Vegeta had no idea what he’d need to get on a roller-coaster for. He told his son as much, “You can already fly faster and higher than any of those rides.” “Yeah,” Trunks nodded. “But, when I’m flying I always know which direction I’m gonna go next so I’m never surprised. Plus, some of the roller-coasters go backwards, and it’s really hard to fly backwards without crashing into stuff.” The dent Trunks had put in one of the walls could attest to that… “Just let me teach you how,” Vegeta said. “By the time I was your age, I could do it backwards with my eyes shut!” “Maybe some other time,” Trunks said. “I wanna hang out with Goten.” “Alright. Have fun.” “But, I wanted YOU to come!” Trunks whined. Vegeta would prefer NOT to spend the day at an over-crowded, noisy amusement park. Particularly if Kakarot was going to be there. “I’m going to train.” “You do that EVERY day!” Trunks said. “Come on! You haven’t played with me in forever!” “I spent time with you last week.” “Yeah, but all we did was train… I wanna do something fun.” “Training is supposed to be fun,” Vegeta sighed. “You acted like you were enjoying yourself.” “I was… But…” Trunks had learned how to manipulate Dad from watching Mom. He thought he could do it too. “Do you not wanna go because you’re scared of roller-coasters?” Vegeta seethed, “I can already move faster than them, so why would I find them the least bit threatening?” “And GOTEN’S dad is going!” Trunks added. “So, HE’S not scared!” “I’m not scared, you’re being ridiculous! If you want me to go with you THAT badly, I will!” Trunks smiled, “Thanks, Dad!” He started to rush away, “Come on, let’s go!” Vegeta didn’t follow him immediately. The last time he’d relieved himself had been in the middle of the night. He hadn’t had enough time to fill up TOO much, but the urge to go was present and unavoidable. He’d also made it a point to never leave the house unless he was COMPLETELY empty. He’d made the mistake of going somewhere without draining himself out first too many times to ever allow it to happen again. The amusement park would be crowded, of course, the only places he could attempt to find relief would be inside some of Earth’s decidedly uncomfortable public restrooms— He’d be lucky if he even managed to force himself to ENTER one, no way would he actually use it. The park was also in the center of a city, so Vegeta would have a tough time flying off to find some privacy in a forest without someone wondering where he’d gone. If he didn’t pee now, he was going to regret it. “Come ON, Dad!” Trunks repeated, realizing Vegeta was still just standing there. “In a moment Trunks…” Vegeta said, glancing in the direction of his bedroom. “But, Goten and his dad are gonna beat us!” Vegeta had to work hard not to take that bait… “They won’t, I just— I have to do something before we leave.” He’d told Trunks about the problem already, Trunks would probably understand without needing a full explanation. “But, you’re already dressed and stuff, what else do you need to do?” ‘I need to piss while we’re still here, otherwise my bladder will try to murder me today,’ Vegeta thought. “It’s— I— Wanted to…” This was bullshit, he thought it should get EASIER to say this each time he needed to. But, he never became any more willing to form the words. “It’s… Nothing. I just need a couple minu—“ “But, Dad— If it’s nothing, can’t we just leave?” Trunks was a little confused. He wasn’t used to hearing Dad stammer, and it was weird seeing him blush, too… Was Dad ACTUALLY scared of roller-coasters? He’d only said that as a joke… Vegeta looked towards his bedroom again, willing himself to just SAY it— Trunks didn’t even care about his problem, it should have been so simple to bring it up to him! But, he still couldn’t manage it… “F—Fine,” he said. “Let’s leave…” He’d be alright. He hadn’t had much to drink yet today, he’d probably sweat a lot of it out anyway, and it hadn’t been THAT long since he’d last used the restroom. He’d be fine. ‘If it gets bad, Kakarot will be there,’ Vegeta reminded himself, then furrowed his brow at his own traitorous thoughts. That had sounded an awful lot like he was starting to… Appreciate Kakarot for something! And that was obviously impossible! He didn’t ever enjoy having Kakarot around, for ANY reason! He certainly didn’t NEED Kakarot for anything! He was fine! When they reached the amusement park, Kakarot was easy to find. Goten was jumping excitedly beside him, already hopped up on sugar and adrenaline. Vegeta tried not to cringe, tried not to let the headache take hold. He couldn’t understand why he found Goten’s excitement so much more irritating than Trunks’s, it wasn’t like Trunks was any quieter… “Mom measured me this morning,” Goten announced. “I’m tall enough to go on all the big rides now!” “I doubt it. Your hair doesn’t count, remember?” Trunks said. Goten pouted, “Yeah, it does so! I asked your Dad how tall he was once, and he counted HIS hair, so hair counts!” “Oh… Dad, is that why you make your hair stick up like that? You wanna look taller?” “M—My hair has always looked this way since the day I was born!” Vegeta said, glancing away quickly. “I’m surprised you came,” Kakarot said happily. “I figured it was just going to be Trunks.” “I am regretting my decision immensely, I assure you,” Vegeta said. His bladder twinged a little, warning him that he was going to be regretting it a lot more soon. Before the day was out, he just KNEW he was going to be stuck going to Kakarot and mumbling something about needing to go home. He was going to have to rely on Kakarot— again— because he lacked the ability to fix his problem on his own. Pathetic. “Aw, come on, Vegeta!” Kakarot chided him. “It’ll be fun! Goten says the roller-coasters feel like you’re flying!” “Kakarot, you can ALREADY fly!” “Yeah, so that means I’ll be able to compare the feelings!” Vegeta sighed, Kakarot wasn’t making this sound any less pointless. “Well… Have fun with that,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I will!” “I was being sarca— Never mind…” They entered the park a few minutes later, and Vegeta’s attention was immediately drawn towards the large fountain in the center of it. What purpose did those things even serve? They were a waste of water— The liquid couldn’t be drank, nor could anyone wash themselves in it, and it wasn’t even deep enough to swim. It was just— Just THERE for the sake of being there. Bulma said they were meant to be ‘decorative’, and Vegeta had never been able to wrap his head around why humans were compelled to put random things everywhere just because they allegedly ‘looked nice’. The only purpose that fountain served was to irritate him. His hearing was too good, and the heavy knowledge that he hadn’t relieved himself before coming here made it even more difficult to tune out the sound of flowing water. He thought he’d just blow the thing up if he didn’t know that Bulma would scold him over it for months after she got sent the repair bill. So, Vegeta was going to have to endure that noise, which somehow managed to sound louder to him than the crowd inside the park. And it reminded him so much of… of OTHER things that he needed to tense his thighs in response to a sudden increase in pressure. He bounced once on his toes, unable to help it, but certain no one would notice such a small action. Goku noticed it. He’d already known that, if Vegeta was joining them on this trip, he would need to be brought home for a minute at some point. Vegeta had gotten all panicky at the mere THOUGHT of trying to use a public restroom in an area that was way less populated than this one. That panic would be way worse here, Goku could only imagine how wildly his chi would spike. And, while Goku figured Vegeta COULD hold it through the entire day, he didn’t want his friend to actually try to do that. He doubted Vegeta would, because once it started getting bad enough to make him squirm, he’d inevitably be mortified to act like that here. He WOULD request Goku’s help eventually, as much as it seemed to always bring him physical pain to do it. It wasn’t a matter of ‘if’, only ‘when’. Goku WAS a bit surprised to see Vegeta showing some discomfort already, though. Apparently, something must have prevented him from peeing before he left home today… And he was probably too embarrassed to admit that and ask for Goku to assist him so soon. Vegeta didn’t enjoy it when Goku was the first one to broach this subject, though. And, he wasn’t acting like he did when he was ready to burst, so Goku decided to wait a little while longer before he said anything. Hopefully, Vegeta would bring it up himself before it got that bad. Goku noticed Vegeta glaring off to his side, and followed his gaze until he noticed the fountain. Yeah… That sound probably WASN’T doing him any favors now… Best to get him away from it. “What did you guys want to go on first?” He asked Goten and Trunks. The boys each called out the names of different rides, and Goku said they’d definitely be able to go on both, suggesting the one he knew to be furthest from the fountain first. “Very well,” Vegeta said. “I’ll just meet up with you by the—“ “Aww, come on, Vegeta!” Goku chided. “You’re not just gonna stand around and watch all day, are you? That’s no fun!” “I’ve been looking around this place for three minutes, and it’s already clear that ninety percent of your time here is spent waiting in lines. If that’s what you want to do, go ahead. But, I think running some laps will be a much better use of my time than standing still for ages.” “But, Dad!” Trunks whined. “I wanted you to come so we could do stuff together!” “… Fine,” Vegeta grumbled. What… What was that THING Trunks was doing with his eyes? They were, like, bigger than usual… Why the Hell did that make Vegeta want to do what he asked? Had someone taught Trunks a mind-control technique? Who did that?! He was gonna kill them! “Yay!” A little while later, Vegeta was impatiently standing in line for the ride Trunks had wanted to go on. He hated staying still for prolonged periods even in the BEST of circumstances, but when he had an extremely noticeable pressure continuing to build in his bladder, it was even HARDER not to move. Having to pee only made it more necessary for him to hold still, though. He was hyper aware of how he was standing, looking down at himself repeatedly to make sure nothing about his posture made it look like he needed to go. He wanted to tap his foot, like he typically did when his extremely limited patience was wearing thin. Ordinarily, he’d do that without even thinking about it, it didn’t matter if those around him saw that he was testy and irritated. But, when his bladder was aching, such a motion was forbidden, he was sure everyone would think his foot was bouncing because he was desperate to pee, and it had NOTHING to do with him being in an annoyed mood. Vegeta knew that this worry was ridiculous— He was agitated so often, of course most people would assume that was his only problem. No one would jump straight to thinking that he was going to burst just because he appeared tetchy and irritated. Still, the fullness inside of him, the shame that squeezed tightly around it… It always made him feel so… ‘Maybe a little vulnerable?’ Bulma’s words came back to him… Preposterous as THEY were. Vegeta didn’t feel vulnerable at all, he was incapable of such an emotion. His need was worsening as he forced himself to stand in the aggravatingly long line. The pulses within were coming on a lot faster and stronger than before. At least the fountain was no longer visible to him, but he swore he could still kind of hear it a little. It may have just been his imagination, though. Or, maybe he was listening to the sound of his rapidly filling bladder sloshing. Trunks kept talking to him, and he really was TRYING to listen and respond, but he knew he was doing a bad job of that. There were too many things distracting him, his discomfort, his need to CONCEAL said discomfort, stress over when and how he’d be able to alleviate it… Obviously, the only way ‘how’ was to eventually break down and ask Kakarot. Emptying his bladder here was entirely out of the question. Just the thought of it… The lines for the restrooms were long, too. And, if he appeared ‘impatient’ in one of those, of course everyone would think he was really desperate! They’d be… looking at him, and thinking about how full he was, thinking that he might not ‘make it’ to the front of the line fast enough… But, of course he WOULD manage to do that! He’d get to the front, and… Possibly be stuck trying to use one of those ridiculous urinal-things the Earthlings had stupidly invented. Just… Out in the open, face going red, body shaking, visibly struggling, clearly not going, where anyone could see! A stall wouldn’t even be that much better, he’d still be overheard as he fought with himself. The image of that iced him all the way down to his bones, the blood in his veins froze and a chill worked up his spine. If merely THINKING about it made him feel… This… Then actually attempting to do it would just destroy him. “Vegeta,” Kakarot said. “Are you okay?” Vegeta jumped slightly, realizing that his shuddering may have been noticeable. “I’m fine, Kakarot. Just bored out of my skull, can’t this line move any faster?” “You… Uh… You look a little ‘cold’, Vegeta,” Kakarot pointed out. “I’m fine,” Vegeta repeated. He had a feeling Kakarot could already tell what the real problem was— Kakarot was way too damned good at that, Vegeta thought that he could hold totally still, not shake even the tiniest bit, keep a perfectly neutral expression on his face, and Kakarot would STILL somehow figure it out. He’d see Vegeta’s ankles were closer together than usual, or something tiny and insignificant like that, and it would be enough for him to know. “Er… Do you want me to… I mean, do you want something to help you warm up?” Vegeta knew EXACTLY what Kakarot was really offering, and it was very tempting, but they were getting CLOSER to the front of the line now, and Trunks REALLY wanted his dad to go on this stupid thing with him. Vegeta wasn’t bursting, just uncomfortable. He could wait for a more convenient time. “Perhaps later…” The roller-coaster, to Vegeta’s surprise, felt quite a bit different from flying. For starters, he wasn’t in control of its speed. So if, for example, there was some… ‘reason’ that he kind of wanted to slow down and move at a calmer, steadier pace, that wasn’t an option. Second, he didn’t get to choose which directions it moved in. He’d thought, initially, that this didn’t matter since he could see the track just fine, but sometimes the cart would go backwards without warning. So, if there was something bothering him, something that would be further agitated by a sudden, unexpected jerk, he wasn’t able to prepare himself for it. Finally, when he flew, he didn’t have a metal bar over his lap that continually jabbed him in the worst possible spot, over and over and over again! By the time the ride was over, Vegeta’s legs were wobbling. His bladder felt like it had been put through a cement mixer, tossed around in circles. Stinging liquid sloshed hard against its aching walls, pressure expanding and making it very difficult to walk normally. Trunks noticed his shaky steps, “Pfft, Dad, you ARE afraid of roller-coasters?” He asked, laughing. Goten cracked up too, “Heheheh, Mr. Vegeta’s scared…” “Of course I’m not!” Vegeta exclaimed, attempting once more to straighten himself out. “I— I just—“ “He’s probably a little dizzy is all,” Kakarot said. “Right, Vegeta?” “Uh… Yeah…” Vegeta said. “Yep,” Kakarot said. “We don’t fly in loops like that very often, so if either of you think he’s walking weird, that’s why.” “I like flying loops,” Goten said, thoroughly distracted now. “Trunks, Trunks, I bet I could do more loops than you before I throw up!” “No, you couldn’t!” Trunks disagreed. They continued to bicker, and Vegeta was just grateful their attention had been diverted away from his struggle to walk without his knees rubbing. His bladder STILL hadn’t calmed down after the torment of the ride, the pressure inside of it was searing, jabbing very sharply at his opening. He gritted his fists uselessly by his sides, jaw tightening along with his thighs. The intensity of his need showed no signs of abating, he was going to have to— “Dad!” Goten squealed suddenly. “I really have to go to the bathroom now!” He was squirming around, in the way that… In the way that Vegeta was fighting so hard NOT to, despite a desperate desire to do so. Trunks snorted as he watched his friend, making Vegeta blush even though HE was doing so well keeping mostly still! “Okay, okay,” Kakarot said. “I’ll find you one, it’s alright.” “Hurry!” Goten begged. “I will— Trunks, do you need to—“ “I’m fine,” Trunks said. “I’ll wait here with Dad.” Kakarot and his spawn were off then, leaving Vegeta with Trunks. “The roller-coaster actually made you dizzy?” Trunks asked. “But, you fight while flying around all the time, you don’t get sick then!” “I… Am mostly in control of the directions I move then,” Vegeta said. “It’s different.” He tried to will his legs to stop shaking now that Trunks was looking right at him. They didn’t want to listen. They wanted to cross, and kept trying to, requiring him to force them away from each other. He knew he didn’t look ‘normal’… Trunks watched, “Did you bruise your knee training? Mom told you that 600 times Earth’s gravity was gonna be too much—“ Vegeta couldn’t stand here anymore. He had to move, this forced stillness was going to make him lose it— It was going to send him doubling over, and then Trunks would know what was ACTUALLY bothering him. “I'm hungry,” he decided. “Let’s go get some food.” “We’re supposed to wait here for Goten and his Dad.” “They’ll be able to sense where we are,” Vegeta said. “It doesn’t matter. Come on.” He started to walk off, and while THAT didn’t feel particularly pleasant, it was much better than trying to maintain complete stillness. Trunks followed him until they found one of the concessions stands. There were some picnic tables surrounding it, which was good. Vegeta could sit down and kind of… Shield himself a little, allow his lower body to squirm a bit. There was, of course, a line though. He glanced longingly at the tables, desperate for the meagre privacy they would offer. He’d be able to bounce his knees, to tap his feet, to cross his legs… If he turned himself correctly, he might even be able to get away with holding himself for a few seconds. If he could just get in control of this intense, flaring desperation, then he’d be able to wait calmly for a little longer, just a bit longer— Just until he found a good moment to allow Kakarot to bring him home. But, for now, he had to wait in the line, and stay STILL. His toes clenched up inside his boots as he stood for agonizingly long moments, trying not to bounce his heels or wriggle. The crowd surrounding the stand was setting him very much on edge. So many people to witness if his bladder were to surge just a little too much and force him to double over. He shut his eyes, but this did little to ease the tension, he could still hear everyone, could still sense them… They finally got to the front, Vegeta just read off a bunch of random foods from the menu, too distracted to be picky— He and Trunks would eat just about anything anyways. Trunks asked for a soda, then paused “Aren’t you gonna drink anything, Dad?” Trunks looked concerned, and Vegeta felt warm and, yes even VULNERABLE, from his desperate need for release. The last thing he needed was more liquids. “Not thirsty,” he said. He looked back at the tables again, hating how pathetic he was being. He was dying to be over there, even though there’d be no relief, only a tiny bit of privacy in which he could hold himself. “You’re gonna choke if you don’t have any water,” Trunks said. That… HAD happened before, a long time ago. Trunks couldn’t have been older than two… Bulma had taken them both to a fancy restaurant, and just INSISTED that Vegeta ride in the car even though he could fly. He had been unable to pee for ages already, the traffic was horrendous, and the idea of getting his bladder even MORE full before heading back into the traffic was unacceptable. So, he’d refused to drink anything, and his throat dried out enough that he got a little choked. Somehow, Trunks could still remember that. It must have scared him, or something, for it to stick in his mind… “Fine, I’ll get some,” Vegeta sighed, and the urge to grab himself as the person at the counter filled up the cup was strong. The sound was unbearable. The liquid inside him seemed to slosh with it. He took the cup as soon as it was full, but had no intention of drinking any. He was finally allowed to sit down at one of the tables, scooting forward as much as he could to shield his lower body. His knees immediately started to bounce, ankles rubbing. Trunks was busy with his food, not paying too much attention, so Vegeta allowed one hand to move between his legs, squirming into the much needed pressure. “Hey!” Trunks said. Vegeta froze for a second, then hurriedly pulled the hand away— He’d noticed, he’d seen, he’d— “Goten,” Trunks called, “We’re over here!” Goten ran over, “No fair, you got food without me!” he accused. Trunks picked up some of his snacks and stood, “I’ll share them with you, stop being a baby.” Goten smiled and started to follow Trunks to another table, but Kakarot stopped him, “Okay, Goten— Try to remember what I said for the rest of the day.” Goten nodded, blushing. “I know… I’ll tell you sooner next time.” Once the kids had gone to a different table, Kakarot sat beside Vegeta. “Poor Goten, the line was SO long, he’s really lucky someone let us cut…” Vegeta tried not to groan as he turned away, gripping a hand against his jiggling knee since he was too embarrassed to hold on where he REALLY needed to. “He didn’t say anything ’til it was almost too late,” Kakarot said. “I guess I can’t blame him, though. I still do that sometimes.” “Kakarot, could we speak about literally ANYTHING else?” Vegeta requested. He shoved some of the snacks he’d gotten towards Kakarot— It wasn’t exactly easy for him to eat right now, anyway. “Here, stuff your face and stop talking.” “Okay.” * As the kids ate, Goten kept glancing over to the other table. “What do you keep staring at?” Trunks asked. “Your Dad’s acting weird,” Goten informed, taking another large bite of food. “He does that sometimes…” “Weird?” Trunks repeated, confused. Dad hadn’t shouted at Goten’s dad in a while, or called him any strange names. Actually, Dad had been pretty quiet lately, which Trunks supposed was unusual for him, but not that interesting. “What do you mean?” “He’s shivering, and he won’t sit up straight, which is weird ‘cause normally he’s all stiff and glaring at everybody and stuff…” Goten took a sip from his drink. “Except, sometimes he changes and I dunno why.” Trunks looked over at his Dad as well now. Goten was right that Dad’s posture wasn’t as rigid as usual, and Trunks figured that was just because he was taking the day off… But, the way he was sitting now didn’t make him look more relaxed than usual. Actually, it was quite the opposite. He looked extremely tense, jaw tight, shoulders drawn in… And he WAS shivering, which was something Trunks had seen him do fairly often and had never paid much attention to. He was acting kind of weird, and Trunks had no clue as to why until he noticed Dad’s foot was bouncing. Trunks shrugged and turned back to Goten, “It’s nothing, I think he just needs to—“ He stopped himself and shoved several fries into his mouth, as many as he could fit. He couldn’t believe what he’d almost said! Dad would be so angry at him! “Needs to what…?” Goten asked. Trunks struggled to swallow the mouthful without choking, trying to think of something else to say. “N—Needs to get back to training,” Trunks said. “He always gets super tense if he can’t do that.” “Oh,” Goten said. After a moment, he added “But, I’ve seen him act all weird even after fighting and stuff, too…” “Then maybe it’s something else,” Trunks said quickly. “I dunno.” He looked back towards his father. Now that he’d recognized it, he could tell Dad REALLY needed to go… Dad wouldn’t squirm like that if it weren’t necessary. That was probably what Dad had meant earlier when he’d said he wanted to do something before they left the house. He’d already needed to pee then, and Trunks trying to rush him out the door had made him too embarrassed to admit it. Dad was probably ALREADY angry at him… Trunks had seen his Dad desperate to pee several times. Dad never SAID anything about it, but sometimes the way he acted made it pretty obvious. Now that Trunks knew why Dad never just WENT, he felt kind of bad. Trunks didn’t know when his father actually peed, but assumed he usually only did it at home. They were gonna be here ALL day. Dad was really tough, he was the toughest Dad in the world! But, could he really hold it that long? Trunks wasn’t imagining his Dad having an accident— He couldn’t even picture that— But he had this vague idea of some other bad thing that might happen instead. Dad had probably waited for ages and ages lots of times before and had gotten used to it, yet he still just felt… Well, it was a new feeling, but he felt kind of sorry for his Dad the more he thought about this thing. They were here to have fun together— Dad rarely let himself have fun to begin with!— and that was gonna be harder if he was uncomfortable the whole time. Was there a way to make him feel better? Dad could go pee at home… Goten’s dad could teleport… Yeah, Trunks just had to get Goten’s dad to take them to the house for a little bit! However, Trunks knew his OWN father well enough to guess he wouldn’t ask Goten’s for a favor like that. Goten’s dad probably didn’t even know about the problem to start with, and Dad would NEVER tell him about it, much less request help! Trunks kept thinking about it, and eventually settled on a plan. He wasn’t going to enjoy putting that plan into action very much, but if it meant Dad could feel comfortable enough to have fun with him, he’d do it. Trunks finished the last of his food, then stood up and ran over to his Dad. “Dad, I wanna go on another ride with you!” He said. “Just us this time!” Vegeta tried to stop bouncing his feet as he turned around. Another ride would annihilate his bladder, the bloated organ STILL hadn’t calmed down after the first one! He needed Kakarot to take him home first, but he couldn’t think of a good excuse to use in front of Trunks. He couldn’t think of anything other than the truth, which was that he was currently dying to pee and in very real danger of squirming and clutching himself in full view of a crowd of people today. Yet, he couldn’t say that… He noticed Kakarot giving him a worried look as he forced himself to his feet, “Alright…” he managed. “Show me which one.” “Uuuum… This way!” Trunks decided, leading him off. Vegeta fought to keep up with Trunks’s pace. His bladder was balanced so precariously inside of him that one wrong step would make it pound and throb so torturously that he was forced to stop for a second to regain control without losing his composure. He felt himself sweating copiously, felt his knees rubbing, felt his thighs straining. He knew he must have been walking strangely, and hoped that, coupled with the perspiration rolling off of him and the warm blush on his face, he looked more ‘overheated’ than he did ‘bursting to piss’. Trunks hoped that taking Dad this way wouldn’t end too badly… He knew this was the last thing Dad would WANT to see right now, but he thought it was necessary for his plan to be believable. He needed Dad to fall for this, to make sure he didn’t realize Trunks had figured out why he was so uncomfortable. Trunks thought Dad WOULD believe it. He’d been having fun at an amusement park all day, not really paying attention to things, he’d drank that big soda, and then he’d be near an enormous fountain that would remind him of anything he’d been neglecting. Trunks really wasn’t going to LIKE what had to come next, though. After a few minutes of pained walking, Vegeta had to try very hard not to curse when they went by that infernal fountain again. He didn’t WANT to look at, much less HEAR the stupid thing, but he couldn’t divert his attention away from it. In fact, his eyes just seemed to be DRAWN to it. His aching midsection throbbed urgently at the sight, huge bursts of liquid spouting out, rushing hard and fast into the pool below. It was reminding him a bit of his awful dream from the previous night, being stuck on that horrible water planet again…His back started to twinge… ‘Dammit, stop looking at it! Pretend it’s not there!’ Trunks saw Dad start to shake more as he stared at the fountain. He started to squirm around, which felt really weird since he didn’t ACTUALLY need to pee. He then tugged on his father’s hand to get his attention, “Daaaad!” Vegeta was grateful for the distraction from the fountain until he looked down and saw WHAT exactly Trunks was whining about. He did not want to subject himself to the torment of standing in a restroom for several minutes, unable to urinate in it. “You are old enough to go by yourself now, Trunks,” he reminded. “I will wait right h—“ “B—But, I,” Trunks looked down, trying to appear embarrassed. He figured he was doing a good job, he could feel that he was blushing a bit from the silly dance he was making himself do. “The lines are all super long, and I don’t think I can wait…” Vegeta’s first instinct was to demand why he hadn’t gone earlier, before it had become such a serious emergency, but he gritted his teeth and held it back. Preventing Trunks from inheriting The Problem was secretly one of Vegeta’s most important goals, part of that was ensuring Trunks was never made to feel ashamed when he needed to go. He LOOKED very ashamed now… Vegeta glanced around until he spotted a restroom. He’d been pointedly ignoring them all day, lest his bladder decide to start ‘acting up’ at the sight of them— as if it wasn’t the infernal thing’s OWN fault that the room was utterly useless to Vegeta. He saw that the line was, indeed, VERY long. Trunks was fidgeting an awful lot, should Vegeta encourage him to wait through it anyway? Trunks already didn’t think he could make it, if he turned out to be RIGHT and then had an accident in front of all these people… Vegeta would have basically set him UP to develop The Problem. His son would be humiliated, devastatingly embarrassed, and that was how it would start. He’d THINK about the awful experience every time he needed to pee, the feelings twisting and coiling inside of him until they transformed into something new and monstrous. And, it would ultimately be Vegeta’s fault for not helping him properly. If Vegeta himself weren’t so uncomfortably weighted down by his own over-full bladder, he knew he’d be able to rush Trunks to a different restroom very quickly, hopefully there was one elsewhere in the park with less of a line. But, running wasn’t a great idea at the moment, the warning pulses in his lower back would ignite and the blinding agony of gallons of acidic heat scorching his kidneys would follow. If that pain overtook him in such a crowded area, if it made him shout and double over, everyone would stare… The only thing that could possibly be worse would be if he somehow actually lost control of his bladder here… Plus, having to carry Trunks at the same time… What if Trunks accidentally kneed him in the wrong spot while he was wriggling around? There was another solution, Vegeta hoped it wouldn’t embarrass Trunks as badly as it often did him… “Kakar— Goten’s Dad can teleport, remember? He can take you home for a second.” Trunks tried not to smile. Awesome! This was working! He was gonna help his dad! He made himself squirm some more, “Wh—Where is he? Hurry!” “You should be able to sense his…” Vegeta paused. If Trunks was as bad off as he looked, he was probably struggling to focus enough for that. “This way, I’ll take you.” It felt like Kakarot and Goten had left the picnic tables, but they weren’t TOO far away from them. He took Trunks’s hand and led him back in the other direction. Now that he had an actual goal, Vegeta found he could walk a little easier. His need to hurry, to keep Trunks’s bladder from getting broken in the way that his own was, was somehow even stronger than his need to pee. If Trunks developed this Problem, he would never, EVER forgive himself. This was the ONLY thing he didn’t want Trunks to inherit from him. He could see Kakarot, almost there… But, as he got closer to Kakarot, and thought of what he was going to say, the worse he felt. “Trunks needs you to take him home for a minute, he can’t wait through the line for the bathroom.” If someone said anything along those lines in regards to HIM, it would be mortifying! If he said that, he would only humiliate Trunks. Even if it only bothered his son a LITTLE, Vegeta was determined to prevent him from associating the need to urinate with even the SMALLEST hint of shame. That was the only way to ensure The Problem wasn’t passed down to him. Vegeta WAS still… Deeply, deeply uncomfortable, Kakarot had already noticed it. Maybe he wouldn’t have to say ANYTHING to Kakarot, but if he DID… He could say that HE was the only one that was… In a rush… He reached Kakarot and, ugh, there were SO many people! He didn’t want to speak, even in a whisper— He was so bad at whispering anyway! Even when he tried his very best to talk softly, it never worked, someone would hear him, someone would know— He had to take care of Trunks… “K—Kakarot!” Kakarot turned, “Hey, you guys already—“ “I— I need you t—to bring me home immediately. F—For… Uh… You know…” Ugh, even being THAT fucking vague was making him sweat. He squirmed, stepping in place, his disobedient body forcing him to emphasize his point against his will. Trunks was surprised his father hadn’t mentioned HIM needing to go home at all… He didn’t understand why he hadn’t. ‘My kid’s the one that needs to pee really bad’ was such a good excuse to get out of having to admit his own desperation. Trunks tried not to frown, he’d done all that embarrassing dancing and then Dad hadn’t even used the ‘cover story’ he’d handed to him! ‘Maybe Dad just has to pee so much now that he can’t even think anymore…’ Trunks watched as Goten’s dad looked them both over. He forced himself to squirm even more obviously, hating that Goten was there to see him doing it. His face was on fire… Goten’s dad furrowed his brow with concern, “O—Oh, okay,” he said. “Right now?“ “Immediately,” Vegeta repeated harshly. How DARE Kakarot make him say it twice? It was embarrassing enough the first time! He wouldn’t have ASKED Kakarot for this to begin with if the situation weren’t dire, it should have been obvious enough— Kakarot looked down, “Goten, I need to help Trunks and his dad with something for a minute. Can you stay here and keep out of trouble for me?” Goten nodded. Vegeta felt Kakarot’s hand on his shoulder and tightened his grip on Trunks’s hand. Oh, he should have warned Trunks that teleporting while needing to pee felt odd— Even if that would require admitting to the boy that Kakarot had been ‘assisting’ him with this! He should have warned Trunks that there would be a sudden increase in pressure that lasted about a second, he should have told his son to brace himself for it! What if it was too much of a shock and he— They appeared in front of Bulma and Vegeta frantically looked down. Trunks was dry, he was okay, everything was fine… Vegeta’s own bladder was still mid-spasm from the trip over here, and that wasn’t fine at ALL, but he forced himself to ignore it and just push his legs a little closer together in an effort to quell it. His back ached, an unsettling heat beginning to creep upwards through it… Bulma wasn’t surprised to see them until she noticed Trunks was with them, “Oh, Trunks, are you alright?” Vegeta nudged him. Oh no, what if he couldn’t walk now? Vegeta could carry him, but what if the assistance filled him with shame and caused him to— “I’m fine, Mom,” Trunks said. “Just have to…” he started to rush down the hall. Vegeta exhaled slowly. He wasn’t even sure which was contributing the most to his tension; concern for Trunks or the absolutely crushing weight of his searing bladder. He shifted his feet for a second, trying to get the pangs and throbs within him to settle down before he started moving again. They refused to die down, remaining as fierce as ever, and pounding through him at a near constant rate. He forced himself to begin the walk to his bedroom, dismayed that Bulma had been so far from it this time. It took him two minutes worth of painfully slow steps to get to his room. Once there, he slammed the door shut behind himself, and as soon as he heard it click, his body just… It decided to show him EXACTLY how awful it could be to him. His need for relief completely skyrocketed. He’d already been experiencing severe desperation to begin with, but all of the sudden, it now felt borderline LETHAL. The walls of his bladder were squeezing in, his urethra stung and felt like it had been lit on fire, his back screeched, he was dazed and dizzy… Just, all in the blink of an eye, his pain level had quadrupled. And, naturally, all of that coming on so suddenly and so intensely was enough to prompt a short leak. It felt so horrid that, for a few moments, he couldn’t move forwards. He just doubled over, clutched himself, forced his eyes closed and dug his feet against the floor. “Nnnnnh, what the Hell?” Why had it gotten so much worse so damn fast? Now, he feared he might burst when he was just a few paces from the restroom because his bloated, water-logged body refused to let him walk! The mental image of that was so horrifyingly pathetic that it gave him the strength to move again. His body protested it, and the closer he got to the restroom, the worse the aches and pains got. His bladder was a fucking asshole, here he was, finally getting to the one place where he could reliably drain it, and yet it was hitting him with everything it had to try to stop him from actually making it. He didn’t normally do this, but his body was being so disobedient that he didn’t want to take any chances. There was only one thing that would be more pathetic than pissing himself a few steps from the restroom; Pissing himself while standing directly in front of the toilet. So, he started to move his clothing apart before he’d actually gotten into the restroom. It made his face heat up, knowing that it made his desperation obvious— Not that his pained, hunched over hobbling hadn’t already done that. No one was in the room with him, no one was able to see him right at the very edge of his limit… He shoved his way into the restroom at last, starting to dribble again when he saw the toilet. Even though he was letting SOMETHING out, his bladder only managed to hurt even worse. He struggled up to the toilet, pulling himself out the rest of the way and aiming. To his immense shock, he didn’t have to strain. The shuddering leaks built into a stream right away. His toes curled again as his agony was replaced by intense relief. His eyelids fluttered, his swollen bladder slowly compressing and the painful bloat fading away. He gritted his teeth, trying not to repeat the mistake from last night where he’d accidentally… sort of… moaned… It just felt so good, though. Why did this have to feel so good? How could the same thing torture him so immensely, yet also bring him pleasure? It didn’t make any sense. He wanted to hate EVERYTHING about his bladder, because of all the horrible ordeals it put him through, all the humiliation, all the shame, but then whenever he finally got to empty it, it made him feel so amazing that it was a struggle not to gasp and moan— And he’d feel weirdly grateful that he was the only person with a bladder huge enough to be able to enjoy this feeling for five entire minutes straight. * Once both Trunks and Vegeta had been gone for a while, Goku glanced worriedly at Bulma. “Is Trunks okay?” He asked. “I think so, he didn’t get hurt, did he?” “No…” Goku looked down the hallway for a second, making sure that neither Vegeta nor Trunks were coming back yet. He knew that Vegeta probably wouldn’t be finished relieving himself for several minutes, at least, but he didn’t want Trunks to overhear this either. “I was worried about something else.” “What?” “Does he copy Vegeta a lot? I mean, I know he does with some stuff… He makes the same faces, and sometimes tries to use the same attacks, but today I had to bring them both HERE, and—“ “You think Trunks is starting to develop the same problem Vegeta has?” Bulma guessed. Goku nodded. “And, if that’s what’s happening, I can help. I’ll teach Goten instant transmission, since he and Trunks are together so often, and I’m sure Goten will get good at it right away. He picks up new techniques way faster than I ever d—“ Goku cut himself off when he saw Trunks walking back down the hallway. If Trunks WAS like his father in this regard, he wouldn’t be happy to overhear people talking about it. Bulma looked down at her son. She didn’t think that Vegeta’s problem was hereditary, the issue was so dependent on Vegeta’s thoughts and emotions, and Trunks had no reason to feel the same anxiety and shame Vegeta did. She did know, however, that sometimes kids would subconsciously mirror habits and behaviors they saw in their parents. If Trunks noticed that Vegeta avoided public restrooms, even when he was visibly desperate, he may have begun to copy that without even realizing it or understanding. * Vegeta finally finished. He’d been so full, he was never leaving the house without peeing again. He’d have to think of a way to accomplish that without the need to say anything embarrassing. He tucked himself back away, feeling the slight dampness from his leaking, and that brought back the intense feelings that had assaulted him moments earlier. What the Hell was that?! Why had everything gotten so much worse, so much more dire, so much more painful, the instant he’d reached his bedroom? That hadn’t built up at the same, gradual rate it had been doing throughout the rest of the day, it had been instantaneous! A few times, he’d had something kind of similar happen to him when he got home after spending a lot of time out, but it had NEVER been that extreme. Stupid body… Stupid, suggestible bladder… Stupid… Wait, was Trunks okay?! What if that same thing had happened to him?! What if he’d reached the restroom, and everything inside him went haywire all at once, and HE hadn’t been able to withstand it?! What if he’d had an accident right in front of the toilet?! He’d be so embarrassed and upset! He’d be ashamed of himself! He’d think about it every time he had to go, and he’d end up— Vegeta rushed out and back down the hall, finding Trunks standing with Bulma and Kakarot, Trunks was— He was still dry, and still in the same clothes, and he was no longer squirming. He was okay, he was safe, and Vegeta would never let him inherit The Problem.
For the first time in a long while, Bulma was paying attention to her son’s bathroom habits. She hadn’t felt the need to do that since he was a toddler. But, now she was worried again, and what she saw didn’t help to lessen those worries. Each school day, Trunks would come home and run straight to the toilet. Every single time. He never went to get a snack first, he never said hello to anyone, he never went to train with his father or ask if he could visit Goten— Using the restroom was always the first thing he did, and he was always in a rush too. He wasn’t using the bathroom at school. Ever. Day after day, it was the same thing. If she took Trunks out somewhere, he didn’t ask for bathroom breaks. In the past, Bulma had assumed that was just because Trunks had inherited his father’s bladder. Now, she feared that it was because he’d… Inherited his father’s bladder. She reminded herself that Trunks had never had any traumatic accidents like Vegeta had… At least, none that she knew of. There WERE the months he’d spent with Piccolo in the Time Chamber, perhaps something had happened then that was sticking with him? She hoped not. She hoped Trunks didn’t have any reason to feel the shame Vegeta did. She hoped that this habit he was developing was simply a bit of subconscious mimicry, just him taking on the behaviors he saw exhibited by his father. If that was the case, he should be able to get trained out of it pretty quickly. If it became enough of a problem, though, then Trunks would need to talk about it. And, when Bulma thought about that, she realized THAT may not be very easy. The issue was simply that she knew Vegeta would be the best person FOR him to talk to, and Vegeta would rather kiss Frieza’s feet than discuss this whole thing with anyone. Bulma just had to be optimistic, and assume that Trunks’s habits would resolve on their own. Or, at least, not develop into anything major. * “You’re super lucky that you don’t have to go to a real school, Goten,” Trunks said as he sat beside his friend in the forest. “How come?” Goten asked. “It’s lonely when it’s just me and Mom.” “Well, first of all” Trunks counted off. “I’m always done with my work before everyone else, and then I just have nothing to do, it’s so boring! Then, the food’s kinda gross, and they never give me enough of it, so I’m still hungry after lunch. And my teacher never lets me go to the bathroom, even when I tell her it’s an emergency!” Goten frowned, then gave his friend a shrug. “Just go pee outside, then! That’s what I do if someone else is in the bathroom.” Trunks rolled his eyes, “I’m not allowed to do THAT either, Goten.” “Why not…?” “Because people’ll see me, and then I’ll get in trouble,” Trunks said. He did WISH that it was acceptable for him to go outdoors, because it was always really difficult to make it all the way home every day. But he knew he’d be caught before he was finished. Someone would notify his parents. Mom would be really angry, and Dad would… Dad would be ashamed of him… That was even worse than anger! “I don’t think I even COULD hold it all day,” Goten said. “It’s hard,” Trunks admitted. “But, I can wait a long time. Like my Da— Uh, I mean—“ “Oh, right, you said your Dad’s never peed before,” Goten recalled. “I think he should, ‘cause maybe then he’ll stop being so mad and shouty all the time.” “He… Does sometimes,” Trunks said. “I guess, anyway. He would have exploded by now otherwise.” “He DID explode one time,” Goten said. Trunks narrowed his eyes before sharply turning away. “What?” Goten whined. “What’d I do?! Truuunks, stop ignoring me!” “That’s NOT why he—“ Trunks broke off, seeing his Dad approaching them. “H—Hi, Dad…” he said, voice tinged with anxiety. Dad was going to lose it if he found out what the topic of their discussion had been. He was so glad he’d realized they weren’t alone before it was too la— “Mr. Vegeta,” Goten blurted. “When you exploded to try and kill Buu? How’d you make yourself do that?” Vegeta started to ask “What?” but Goten kept talking. “Did you have to go pee for a long time first? ‘Cause, sometimes when I have to pee, it FEELS like I’m gonna—“ Trunks clasped his hands over Goten’s mouth, “Shut UP, Goten!” he grunted, trying to force his wriggling friend to go still. Vegeta didn’t respond. He couldn’t. There was so much blood rushing through his ears that he couldn’t hear himself think. His face scorched red as he stared at them. Finally, he managed, “Trunks, come with me.” Trunks begrudgingly followed after his father. He knew he was really in for it now. And, how was that even fair?! GOTEN had been the one asking dumb, embarrassing questions, not him! Once they were a decent distance away from Goten, Vegeta hissed; “What did you tell him?! What does he know?! What have you said?! I ordered you not to breathe a single word to—“ “I didn’t tell him!” Trunks blurted out. “Goten just— He thought you don’t ever pee, and I said that you actually DO sometimes—“ “He doesn’t need to know that!” “I—I’m sorry!” Trunks stammered. “I didn’t say anything else, I promise!” “You’d better not have…” Vegeta warned. “You little—“ He bit down, silencing himself. Vegeta was trying to calm down, he REALLY was. He didn’t LIKE being angry at his son. On some level, the emotion kind of frightened him whenever it was directed at Trunks. He sometimes had to hold his hands together behind his back to keep from acting on instinct; ’Anger’ always equalled ‘punch’, but if he ever actually lost it enough to strike Trunks out of rage, he’d never be able to forgive himself. So far he’d always managed to keep his fists AWAY from his son in these moments, but his voice was a different story. He knew he’d said awful things to Trunks in the past, things he wished he could take back. Trunks was flinching, and Vegeta winced too. He hadn’t ever hurt Trunks intentionally, only accidentally when they were training. But, Trunks was scared of his anger anyway. Trunks had seen what an angry Vegeta COULD do, and that was enough. “It’s— It’s fine, Trunks. If that’s ALL you said, then it’s okay. I’m not mad, I’m…” He cringed again, voice softening with reluctance. “I’m… Just… Embarrassed…” Trunks relaxed slightly. “What are you doing here anyway?” “I intended to fight your friend’s annoying father. But, Kakarot and his woman went out and, for some reason, they think I should monitor the both of you until they return.” “Goten and I don’t need a baby-sitter!” Trunks whined. “That is precisely what I said,” Vegeta agreed. “However, Kakarot’s woman informed me that you once attempted to cook something and nearly blew up their home.” “That was mostly Goten’s fault!” Trunks protested. “It was HIS idea to add the baking soda!” “Well, whoever’s fault it was, now it’s MY problem,” Vegeta said. He was having a FEW problems now, actually. First, he didn’t know what he was actually supposed to DO with the kids. He’d been instructed to keep them out of trouble, but that was far easier said than done. Second, since he HADN’T been able to fight Kakarot, he hadn’t gotten to burn off any energy, and he felt uncomfortable, jittery twitches as a result. Third, he’d come here AFTER performing some irritating errands for Bulma which had given his bladder plenty of time to fill. He’d intended to have Kakarot keep watch for him while he went, but THAT plan hadn’t come to fruition either. He was glad Trunks hadn’t noticed yet. Especially since his friend had apparently been babbling about Vegeta pissing for some reason. What had COMPELLED that little brat to speak of such things?! “Well, if you’re here, can you fight us?” Trunks asked. “Fine.” That WOULD handle at least a couple of Vegeta’s problems. He’d keep the kids occupied, and rid himself of the frantic energy coursing through his veins. His bladder felt heavy, tingling sharply, encouraging him to just sit down somewhere until he was able to urinate. He’d fought while much more desperate than this before, though. And, he didn’t think Goten and Trunks could give him THAT big of a problem. So long as they didn’t— “Yay!” Trunks beamed. “We’re gonna do it as Gotenks, okay? We’ve been practicing, we can match each other’s chi right away now. Wait’ll see how fast we—“ Vegeta tried to keep the dismay from showing on his face. He could handle them separately, but when they fused it actually WAS a challenge. “I bet we can do it faster than you and Goten’s Dad can,” Trunks said. “Have you guys been practicing at all?” “Of course not,” Vegeta said. “We don’t NEED to fuse, the last time we did it was when—“ He broke off. The last time he and Kakarot had fused, it had been to fight Vegeta’s bladder. “I don’t even remember, it’s been a long time.” Trunks looked somewhat disappointed, “Aw… But, we wanted to fight Gogeta someday.” “Maybe you will,” Vegeta said. ‘Don’t count on it,’ he thought. He was never fusing with Kakarot again— EVER. It would require a life-or-death situation to get him to change his mind. Nothing else could possibly persuade him. His bladder ached more as they walked back towards Goten, needling at him and reminding him how good it had felt to finally relieve himself when he and Kakarot had fused. It was trying to convince him that there was one OTHER reason he might consider doing that again. He clenched his fists at his sides, trying to will the bursting organ to be quiet. He’d rather explode than have to merge himself with Kakarot… Why was he even thinking about this? Kakarot wasn’t HERE. When he stepped on a fallen branch and lost his footing for a second, Vegeta felt the liquid within him shake. The sensitive walls of his bladder were doused with burning fluid, and a part of him kind of wished— Er, was just really ANNOYED that Kakarot wasn’t here. He placed a hand over his lower belly, feeling the jittery pulses increase. Maybe if he told Trunks to wait right here for a second, then rushed to the other side of the forest… Kakarot’s wife would go ballistic if she found out he left the kids alone— He was likely already on thin-ice since Goten had been by himself for so long. Of course, there was no way for Chi-Chi to find out. But, Kakarot claimed she possessed some kind of sixth-sense for when he was doing something that he shouldn’t have, and there were moments where Vegeta thought he might have actually been RIGHT. Leaving them to their own devices would end poorly. Then, perhaps he could do something else… He pictured it. He pictured himself looking down at his son, and… And speaking those words, telling Trunks that he had to go urgently. And then, worse, telling Trunks to keep watch for him since Kakarot wasn’t around to do it. Trunks would agree to it easily, but Vegeta’s bladder wouldn’t. He’d just stand there, twitching, trying to will his body to cede and release everything he was holding back, but it wouldn’t happen. He’d just be there, for an all-too-lengthy amount of time, his son becoming more and more aware of how serious his stupid problem actually was. That plan would end poorly as well. So, Vegeta was left with his usual, only option; Holding it indefinitely. With the added stipulation of fighting Gotenks at the same time. Of course, he’d fought while desperate before— He’d done that TONS of times. He knew how to do it. The most important thing was always DODGING. A hit to the wrong spot would be devastating, so staying away from his opponent’s attacks was even more pressing than building up his own. Gotenks was extremely fast, though, avoiding getting struck in the bladder was not going to be easy. They reached Goten, whom was just sitting in the grass. Good, at least he’d stayed out of trouble while they were gone. “Is Trunks in trouble?” Goten asked. “No,” Vegeta said. “I just had to ask him something. Why would he be in trouble?” “He was telling me that he hates school,” Goten said. “My Mom would get SO mad if Gohan or me ever said that.” Vegeta glanced at his son and shrugged. He’d hate being told to sit in one place all day, too. He’d be able to just FEEL himself getting weaker the whole time. Why the woman insisted that Trunks attend such an institution was beyond him. “I don’t HATE it,” Trunks said. “There’s just a lot of stuff I don’t like. Like how—” “You should do school with me and Mom,” Goten suggested. “I dunno if my Mom will let me,” Trunks said. Vegeta shifted his feet, he’d been standing still for too long now. It seemed that one minute was the limit for how long his bladder would allow him not to fidget. The motion of his legs was so minuscule that he knew the kids couldn’t have noticed it. But, HE’D noticed it, and that was more than enough. He needed to get this fight started, that way all his moving around might look a bit more natural. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s find a more open space so the two of you can fuse.” Goten’s eyes lit up, “You got him to agree?!” He asked. “Yeah!” Trunks cheered. “This is gonna be fun!” Since Goten knew these woods the best, he led the way. He ran through the paths, forcing Vegeta to break into a sprint to keep up with him. His bladder sloshed with each step, and his feet struck the ground much too forcefully. The sharp buzzing at his opening was beginning to build into a heavy pressure, and he had to pause a few times to press his thighs together, hopeful that the action went unnoticed. It didn’t. Trunks had picked up on his father’s discomfort. After Goten had accidentally pointed out that Dad ‘shivered’ when he had to pee, Trunks noticed it all the time. And, he always felt bad about it. He couldn’t help it, he DEFINITELY knew how uncomfortable it was to be forced to wait. But, unlike Trunks, Dad didn’t have anyone preventing him from going, other than himself. That must have been so frustrating! Trunks wasn’t sure if a fight was a good idea now after all. Dad had probably fought while needing to pee before, but it couldn’t have been easy! Dad didn’t LIKE ‘easy’, though. And Trunks couldn’t think of any way to call off the fight without having to tell Goten why. Trunks had PROMISED his father that he wouldn’t breathe a word of this issue to anyone, even Goten. Hopefully Dad made it through the battle okay. Trunks wouldn’t have FULL control over Gotenks when they fused, but he’d try to go a little slower than usual, and that should help. He’d just focus on that as much as he could, and— … … Oh no, they were going to fuse! Trunks had done a VERY good job at keeping Dad’s secret from Goten, he was proud of himself for how well he’d been doing. Any time he started to slip up and say something, he was able to correct himself in time. But, now they were going to FUSE and Goten would be able to hear all of his thoughts! So, if he started thinking ‘I shouldn’t hit Dad THERE when he has to pee,’ it would be all over. Goten would know Dad needed to relieve himself, and he’d start wondering why he didn’t just go DO that, and Trunks wouldn’t be able to control his thoughts well enough to keep the secret. Trunks had to pick something else to occupy his mind with. If he started thinking about his Dad’s problem, he should instead just focus on… On dogs. Yeah. That would work! Goten finally stopped in a clearing, “Does this work, Mr. Vegeta?” He asked. “Wait’ll you see how much stronger we’ve gotten!” “This is fine,” Vegeta said, lying through his clenched teeth. Of all the spots Goten could have led them, he just HAD to choose one near a river, huh? Fuck, it was moving so fast today too, creating a whooshing hiss that made Vegeta’s lower body tremble. Dammit, he should have voided his bladder at the house before coming here, he shouldn’t have just ASSUMED that Kakarot would be free. He glanced away from the river and towards a smattering of bushes. If his stupid body would just learn to COMPLY with his orders… He shifted his weight back and forth a few times. It seemed so fucking simple! He just had to move behind the bushes and GO! It shouldn’t have been such an ordeal! His bladder was cramping, it felt bloated and heavily agitated. His thighs were going numb from continued tension. His legs were glued together, and he was dreading having to drag them apart to fight. Just as he looked away from the bushes, Goten ran towards them, “Oh, wait! I have to pee first!” Vegeta turned sharply to face in the complete opposite direction. Not only did Goten LOOK like a tiny Kakarot clone, he behaved like one as well. He didn’t care about things like ‘privacy’ and ‘decency’. Vegeta’s ears picked up on the sound of him watering the bushes and he gritted his fists, begging himself not to start bouncing his feet. The fact that he was feeling so fucking envious of a CHILD was grating on his nerves. A child should NOT possess an ability that HE couldn’t master! Once Goten had returned from the bushes, Vegeta was clenching and unclenching his fists. He was so tense, his body was pleading with him to move around, to twist and squirm and cross his shaking legs. The shame of it all was even more enveloping than usual! He was an adult, struggling not to do an utterly humiliating pee-dance in front of a couple kids. He was fighting not to come apart at his seams in front of his own son, who thought him capable of anything. He reminded himself that Trunks knew about the Problem and didn’t care, that if he told his son what was bothering him, nothing horrible would happen. Maybe if he and Trunks were ALONE here, he’d be able to force himself to do that. But, Goten… Goten couldn’t keep secrets. He told everyone about everything, including these topics. Thanks to him, everyone knew Gohan had wet the bed last month. Goten didn’t even do it to be malicious, he just had even less of a filter than his idiot father. If Goten found out about the Problem, EVERYBODY would know about it before long. The only way to KEEP Goten from finding out was to get through this fight. “Alright,” Vegeta said. “Show me. Prove how strong you are!” Goten enthusiastically got into the position for the fusion dance. Trunks joined him, but Vegeta noticed he looked far less excited than he had earlier. He didn’t have much time to wonder about that before his attention was again grabbed by his throbbing bladder. He tried to focus on the kids, but he kept glancing away. And everything else his eyes locked onto looked like relief, in spite of his intense awareness of how impossible it was for him to go here. Gotenks stood before him a moment later, “Heheheheh,” he chuckled. Vegeta scowled and tried to lower himself into a fighting stance. His midsection protested the action, punishing him severely with a sharp, piercing jolt of a spasm. He steeled himself, begging the agony not to show on his face. Gotenks smirked, raising his fists. “Easy prey…” he said. Vegeta’s scowl deepened. He had no idea where EITHER of those kids could have picked up THAT kind of attitude from! They started to battle, but Vegeta had some trouble keeping up— He wouldn’t under normal circumstances, but it was just so hard for him to form any kind of energy beam right now. He had to rely on his fists and feet, and Gotenks was so fast that he NEEDED to be able to use some long-range attacks. It didn’t help that Vegeta’s own speed was hindered, needy pulses spiking through him and forcing him to just STOP occasionally to push his legs together. He tried to act like he was pausing to charge something up, even though his chi didn’t want to cooperate enough to build in his hands right now. Gotenks seemed to be having too much fun to pay attention to any quirks in Vegeta’s body language, at least. Normally, Vegeta would file that away and try to remind Trunks to watch for subtle motions during a fight, but if these incidents were going to keep happen, perhaps it was better if Trunks never learned. Vegeta’s biggest concern was dodging, quickly moving out of the way of ANYTHING that looked like it might hit his middle. He knew what a chi blast to a full bladder felt like, it was like being kicked thousands of times all at once. His bladder would cramp and squeeze and TRY to force everything out, his dam just too strong and stubborn to allow it to happen. It was not a feeling that he wanted to experience now. But, all the darting around, running and flying to AVOID Gotenks’s attacks was making his bladder twitch as well. He was moving and changing position so fast that his body never had the time to adjust and, since he was in the air so often, the effect gravity had upon his bloated abdomen was continually shifting as well. His bladder felt like it was being kneaded, crushed and squashed and stretched in all directions. The liquid inside of him was swashing intensely, splattering the taut walls of his bladder and making them convulse again and again. He managed to get a FEW punches and kicks in any time Gotenks got close enough to him, but without the ability to use his energy he knew he was outmatched. Trunks was so stressed that he was surprised his and Goten’s fusion hadn’t come un-done on its own. He was trying to avoid hitting Dad in certain areas, but also fighting hard not to directly think of which areas those WERE, and WHY he couldn’t hit him there. And, he didn’t have complete control over WHERE Gotenks aimed his attacks to start with, and every time he tried to take more initiative, he kept almost thinking about all the things he wasn’t allowed to think about! ‘DOGS!’ His mind continually screamed in desperation. ‘DOGS! DOGS! I am thinking about DOGS!’ Goten was occasionally noticing Trunks’s jumbled thoughts and his random pre-occupation with dogs, sometimes slowing down to wonder ‘Trunks, what’s wrong with you?’ ‘NOTHING! I am thinking about dogs, and— And fighting, and we should— We should hit Dad with a—‘ ‘You’re being weird, Trunks,” Goten thought. ‘Your Dad is too.’ ‘No, he’s not, he’s not weird, nothing’s wrong. He’s just— DOGS! DOGS! DOGS!’ ‘Yeah, he is!’ Goten realized. ‘I thought we were just WAY stronger all the sudden at first, but he’s going easy on us! He doesn’t normally do that!’ ‘He’s not going easy on anyone!’ Trunks insisted. ‘It’s just that he’s— DOGS!’ ‘Yuh-huh!’ Goten responded. ‘He’s not even shooting any chi at us at all! He’s just punching, and most of the time he’s pretending he can’t catch us!’ ‘We’re just really fast!’ Trunks assured. ‘Dad can’t keep up because he needs— Because we’re so fast!’ During this, Gotenks had suddenly gone still, confusing Vegeta, whom finally stopped moving as well. He paused and squeezed his thighs together, his shoulders starting to shake. His bladder continued to sear, the fluid trapped inside it still rocking from his earlier frantic motions. While he had the chance, he was going to try to calm the waters a little, hold himself in one place and tense up as much as he could. Why wasn’t Gotenks doing anything? Were they already out of time on the fusion? Vegeta couldn’t tell. Time passed really, really strangely when he had to pee. It felt like it had been several hours already… ‘Now, look!’ Goten thought. ‘He IS being weird! See? We stopped attacking, and he’s not doing anything!’ ‘’Cause that would be cheap!’ Trunks reasoned. ‘He wants a real fight! Let’s give him one again, come ON, just don’t hit him near his— DOGS! DOGS! DOGS!’ ‘Why do you keep thinking about dogs? Are your parents gonna get you one?’ Okay. Okay. Fine, Goten was distracted now, good. This was— ‘Huh? What do I need to be distracted from?’ Dammit! Goten could hear everything… ‘What’s going on? What’s wrong, Trunks?’ ‘NOTHING, Goten! Dad just needs to— DOGS!’ ‘Does your Dad have a dog? Is that it? Is it one of those really tiny ones? Is he hiding it? Is that why he can’t use his chi?’ ‘No— That’s— Ahhhh, this is hard!’ Trunks had never had to pay such close attention to his THOUGHTS before. He’d never tried to CONTROL them, he let his mind wander where it wanted to. His mind was his OWN, his private thoughts couldn’t effect anyone else, but now they suddenly COULD, and he was wishing Dad just hadn’t ever TOLD him about— ‘About the dog?’ Goten thought. ‘Wait, is it a surprise? A surprise for who?’ Phew, Goten had distracted him just in time. Think about dogs, think about dogs, think about dogs. Gah, how was he supposed to FIGHT while fused now? He was discovering that being required NOT to think about a specific topic made it REALLY hard not to focus on it! Whenever they fused now, Trunks was going to be stuck thinking about how Dad would KILL him if he ever accidentally— ‘You’re not supposed to think about something? How come?’ ‘Gah— Goten, can we un-fuse?’ ‘I dunno how to do that before the time runs out…’ Trunks didn’t EITHER. He didn’t even know if there WAS a way. He just knew he had to— To think about dogs, and NOT about— ‘Truuuunks! Are you hiding something? Do you have a secret? Ooh, I know! You LIKE somebody, right? Ewww!’ Could Trunks PRETEND that was it— ‘Oh, that’s NOT it…?’ Ugh, no! He couldn’t lie or fake anything now! ‘Mmmf, we need to fight my Dad!’ He thought desperately. ‘Let’s go! Let’s— Let’s only think about fighting! Let’s use the Kamehameha on him! It’ll be funny! He gets really annoyed ‘cause that’s YOUR dad’s move and he wants us to use one of HIS instead. Or we could use the—‘ ‘But, I wanna know what the secret is! And, I don’t even know how you’re supposed to say gore-licks gun!’ ‘Galick gun, stupid! You’re lucky he didn’t hear that!’ Trunks figured he was lucky his Dad couldn’t hear a few of HIS thoughts, too. ‘I’m not stupid! And what do you not want your Dad to hear?’ ‘NOTHING! Come ON, we can’t let all this power go to waste!’ ‘It’s not nice to keep secrets, Trunks!’ ‘I promised I would!’ Trunks was SO annoyed now! ‘Stop asking about it, or I’m not gonna be able to—‘ Suddenly, the pair found themselves separated, sitting on the ground. Trunks was flooded with relief and flopped backwards into the grass. Vegeta approached them. He was trying to stomp, like he knew he should. If he was going to help the kids train, he had to always appear serious and strict. His harsh steps were proving to be too much for him, sending heavy spasms through his middle and forcing him to slow his pace as he got closer. “What was THAT?” He demanded. “You were doing FINE for so long, then it was like you forgot how to MOVE.” “S—Sorry, Dad!” Trunks started to say, but Goten interrupted. “Truuuunks! Come on! What’s the secret!?” “Knock it OFF, Goten!” “But, we tell each other EVERYTHING!” Goten whined. “Why won’t you tell me this!” “It’s not even that exciting!” Trunks exclaimed, trying VERY hard not to look at his dad. “Just forget about it!” Vegeta watched this unfold, his chest knotting up. Trunks must have ALMOST thought about… It. He’d kept it a secret, obviously, but still… He’d come close, and Goten KNEW he was hiding something. Doubtless, Goten thought it was the most amazing secret ever, and— Well, it WAS! Vegeta was struggling with something! That WAS something to be shocked by! But, Goten was going to keep pressing now, he wasn’t going to drop it. Every time they fused, Goten would TRY to get Trunks to reveal it, even if by mistake. And, clearly, the reason Gotenks had frozen was thanks to Trunks being too pre-occupied with hiding it. Requiring his son to control his THOUGHTS— something even HE couldn’t manage to do— was affecting his ability to train and get stronger. Vegeta wasn’t sure if he should make Trunks keep that up. He COULD say “Actually, no more fusion. Unless it’s a last resort, you both need to spend more time fighting separately.” And, that would be true. They couldn’t always rely on each other, they needed to improve solo as well. But, Vegeta could… He saw that this was— for some unfathomable reason— important to his son. Trunks LIKED to fuse with his friend, he had fun when he did it, it made him feel good and powerful. It made him feel the same way Vegeta always wanted to feel. Taking it away would make Trunks feel weaker, it would make Trunks feel the same way Vegeta’s problem made HIM feel. Dammit… There was that weird feeling again. It was one he’d hardly EVER experienced, where he’d suddenly imagine himself in someone else’s place and it would make him want to do something he wouldn’t normally do… Earth was poisoning him again, that was for sure. “Goten, if you learn what this secret is,” Vegeta said. “Would you be able to KEEP it a secret?” He couldn’t believe what he was saying. He wasn’t thinking clearly at all, that weird feeling, mixed with his immense need to pee, was removing his ability to be rational Trunks was staring at him now, surprised. Goten shrugged, “I think so!” He ‘thought’ so… “You have to be sure of it,” Vegeta said. This was a bad idea. This was a terrible idea. He should go clear his mind (Or, more accurately, empty his bladder) and THEN reconsider if he actually wanted to go through with this. “You can’t repeat it to anybody. If you do…” he struggled to come up with a threat. He couldn’t. His insides were all twisting and throbbing so much that all he could think about was peeing. “If you repeat it, my Dad’s gonna be REALLY mad,” Trunks said. “Your Dad’s super scary when he’s mad,” Goten said. “If you don’t want to make me angry, then you’ll promise NOT to say anything about this, EVER.” “Not even to Gohan?” “Not even him.” “Well, what about—“ “NO ONE.” “Okay, I promise,” Goten said. Vegeta hesitated. Even if he intended to keep this a secret, Goten was so talkative, he may say something accidentally. “Al—Alright. Well… It’s… I…. Have… Um… That is, I— Kind of—“ Goten tilted his head in confusion. “Trunks, your Dad’s acting REALLY funny… He’s supposed to be yelling and talking about how cool he is, right?” Vegeta shut his eyes. Maybe this would be easier if he couldn’t SEE anyone. It wasn’t, though. He was utterly convinced that Goten WOULD tell someone the first chance he got. Next thing Vegeta knew, everyone would be aware… Having this conversation when he needed to go was making it even harder. He felt so raw and exposed with the desperate urge to void, even if neither of the kids could tell yet. “I…. This… May come as somewhat of a surprise to you, since I’ve never… Lacked any abilities in the past, but—“ “Trunks says you get annoyed when we do the Kamehameha,” Goten interrupted. “Is that ‘cause you don’t know how? I can show y—“ “I— I’m sure I could figure THAT out if I wanted!” Vegeta snapped. “What I haven’t been able to figure out is how to— I— I have difficulty relieving my bladder. That’s the big secret. Like Trunks said, it’s not very exciting.” “Reliving your blabber,” Goten tried to repeat. “Peeing,” Vegeta said. “I have trouble with… That, alright?” “Uuuuummmm…” Goten trailed off. “I don’t get it… I thought that was easy.” Vegeta twitched, and turned away sharply. He’d done that too quickly, and his bladder pulsed in protest, forcing him to rub his knees together for a moment. “It SHOULD be, but that’s not how it works, I—“ “You just do it…” Vegeta needed to tell Kakarot to teach his brat not to make idiotic comments. Then again, it wasn’t as though Kakarot was a great role-model when it came to that! “Goten,” Trunks said. “I think it’s like… Um, remember when we went to the tournament? You said you felt funny because you’ve never fought in front of an audience before, and you had stage-fright for a second?” “Yeah,” Goten said. “Mister Vegeta, are you supposed to pee on a stage for some reason?” Vegeta rubbed a hand over his face. Dammit, now he was picturing himself being forced to do that. He was picturing some all-powerful creature crash-landing on Earth and announcing that it would blow up the planet if Vegeta didn’t successfully urinate on stage for an enormous crowd of people. That had happened in one of his dreams once. “No…” he sighed. “‘Cause that WOULD feel weird, since everyone’s gonna be looking, and— Ohhh. You don’t like when there’re other people, right?” “… Right.” Goten looked down for a second, then he shrugged, “Okay!” “Okay?” “It all makes sense now,” Goten said. “What makes sense now?” “All the times you start crossing your legs and stuff,” Goten said. “And then sometimes you get Mrs. Bulma and you say…” Goten tried to lower his voice and speak in a gravelly tone. “‘Woman, I’m leaving NOW.’ And if she says no, you go ‘I said NOW!’ And you fly off super fast.” “I— I don’t do that very often!” “Do you have to go now? Is that why you weren’t fighting like normal?” “That is NOT of your concern!” Vegeta growled. “When I told you not to speak of this with anyone, that included me!” Goten tilted his head, “Huh? But, it’s not a secret from you, you already know! And, if you have to pee now, you should. So that you don’t have an—“ “Goten, be quiet!” Trunks cut him off. “Well, he’ll be more embarrassed if he peed on himself, right?” Vegeta couldn’t handle this much longer. Goten’s suggestion, while utterly impossible, was enough to horrify Vegeta. In spite of knowing that it could never happen, he was now imagining himself standing there soaked in front of his own child, and Kakarot’s little spawn. He shuddered. “En—Enough,” he said. “I want the two of you to spar each other now, you BOTH need to get better at fighting while separated. I’ll watch.” Goten kept staring at him. Ugh, he looked EXACTLY like Kakarot, it was so unnerving! And that was the way Kakarot always looked at him when he realized he had to— “Are you cold?” Goten asked suddenly. Vegeta relaxed a bit, he wasn’t being obvious, he was fine. “You can go back to my house and get something warm to drink,” Goten added. “We have lots of tea.” Either Vegeta wasn’t being obvious, or Goten was teasing him. Vegeta knew which option he preferred. And, after a few seconds had passed, he realized that Goten had just gifted him with the perfect excuse. “Yes,” he said. “I’m freezing. I’ll be right back.” Backing away on stiff legs, he added “Don’t blow up the forest, I can’t deal with Kakarot’s wife shouting at me today.” “We’ll try!” Goten said, waving. Vegeta rushed off, feeling his bladder thrash more and more with each step. Did he have time to go home? When were Kakarot and his wife supposed to get back? He couldn’t remember how long they’d say they’d be gone. He’d never hear the end of it if he left the kids alone here, Chi-Chi would demand an explanation. He’d have to tell her that he’d needed to pee, he’d have to break down why that had required him going home. He didn’t need the idiot’s entire family knowing about this! Better to just go to Kakarot’s house. It was empty now, he assumed the door to their restroom locked. There was no reason he SHOULDN’T be able to get this taken care of there. Also, Kakarot’s house was so much closer, and he… He just… He was TIRED of holding it, that was all. He definitely COULD restrain himself all the way home, he’d have NO problem doing that! There was absolutely ZERO doubt in his mind that he could fly home before he started to leak. He just didn’t WANT to go that far! Now that he was out of the kids’ eyesight, he was occasionally palming his crotch. He’d been aching to hold himself for so long that finally being able to do it felt amazing. He reminded himself that he didn’t NEED to grab and pin his opening shut, he was just choosing to do that out of his own free will, because he wanted to. If it was actually a need, then he wouldn’t have been able to keep his hands away while he’d still had people looking at him. And, he could let go easily. To prove that to himself, he released his grip, but only managed a few more steps before his bladder spasmed with a razor-sharp, sickening twinge and his hands dove back down again to squeeze urgently. He felt heat building down his length now, a leak right at the edge of spurting out. His fingers pinching around his exit felt like the only things keeping the drops at bay. He decided that maybe he WOULDN’T let go of himself anymore… Vegeta reached Kakarot’s small house and tore one hand away from his crotch so he could yank open the front door. Kakarot was an idiot for never locking it, but sometimes his stupidity was useful. To Vegeta’s immense relief, his bladder didn’t start with that premature loosening thing it had been doing whenever he got near his restroom at home. He supposed that since he’d never relieved himself in Kakarot’s house before, the power of suggestion held no sway here. His middle did start to cramp a bit more viciously once he was actually IN the restroom, though. Especially after he’d locked the door and his body registered that he was now alone in an empty house, behind a locked door, with a toilet right there. He crossed his legs and bounced his feet, keeping his eyes firmly shut until he’d gotten his clothing apart. He aimed and told himself to release, and for a few seconds he got nothing more than a few more violent, surging cramps. He strained, bearing down on his pelvic muscles, reminding himself again and again that he was completely alone, and there was no chance of anyone hearing him go. After two minutes of pushing and pleading with himself to just let it out, he still hadn’t managed a drop. He wasn’t sure what was causing him to lock up so badly. He knew he was alone. He concentrated, and couldn’t even sense anyone. He had privacy, and he just kept trying and trying. He realized that a lot of his thoughts were directed towards the kids he’d left alone in the woods. He knew they could both handle themselves just fine until he got back, he wasn’t concerned about them being in danger. But, he WAS quite concerned with what they might be TALKING about. Now that they both KNEW, what if they were discussing it? Trunks had never seemed to care that much, but what if Goten thought it was funny? What if Goten was badgering Trunks for some really embarrassing stories now? Vegeta tried NOT to think about that, and focus solely on getting his bladder drained NOW so that this whole ordeal didn’t turn INTO a really embarrassing story. ‘Trunks wouldn’t tell him anything,’ Vegeta tried to assure himself. Trunks had seemed plenty annoyed by Goten’s questions, he didn’t WANT to answer them. Trunks understood that this was a family matter. Finally, Vegeta’s efforts were yielding results, a shuddering dribble began to emerge from his tip. He felt the familiar scorching of his bladder only partially splitting open, and gritted his teeth, digging his heels against the floor as he forced it to continue. When a real stream started to erupt at last, Vegeta released his breath in a low sigh. The pressure inside of him dropped immediately, and the churning bloat in his lower stomach evaporated. Much better! His shoulders slumped a little, and he shuddered. He couldn’t help the blush that spread across his face. His pee gushing into the bowl was now the only sound in the empty house, and it was so loud, so obvious… But, it felt so good, too. And, he was the only one that could hear it. It didn’t matter that it was loud, it didn’t matter that it almost kind of echoed in this tiny room. When Vegeta was just about finished, he heard the front door moving again. The last of his pee gushed out in a startled rush and he hurriedly fixed his clothing. His brain now cleared from the fog of desperation, he immediately was able to sense Kakarot and Chi-Chi. “Why wasn’t the door shut all the way?” Chi-Chi said, her tone accusatory. “I dunno,” Kakarot said. “I swear I closed it when we left! Maybe Vegeta had to come back here to get something.” “He left my son ALONE in the woods?!” “Aw, c’mon Chi-Chi. Goten can handle himself. You know that!” Fuck, fuck, fuck… Chi-Chi sounded mad. Kakarot was always frightened when Chi-Chi was angry, so Vegeta had to assume she possessed some otherworldly powers of her own. She was certainly good at yelling, anyway. She might have been the only person capable of out-screaming Vegeta. Vegeta forced himself to open the door and step out. “Your little brat is fine,” he said. “I just had to— To wash my—“ “Oh, there you are,” Chi-Chi said, looking from him to the now open door to the restroom before turning back to Kakarot. “Alright, I guess if he was having an emergency, then at least he has a decent excuse.” Vegeta noticed a look of dismay pass over Kakarot’s features, and knew it was likely mirrored in his own. “I— I was just—“ Vegeta stammered. Fuck, she was thinking about him peeing. She was thinking about him NEEDING to pee really bad! She was picturing him desperate! “You know, you could learn from him Goku,” Chi-Chi added. “You COULD come back inside when you need to pee, you don’t need to keep going outside like you did before you knew what a toilet was.” Vegeta was momentarily distracted enough to snort “What?” Kakarot blushed. That was a really rare sight. It was kind of fascinating in a way. “Vegeta, you know I grew up in the forest, there just wasn’t any plumbing then.” “Heh, did Bulma have to toilet train you?” “N—Not exactly,” Kakarot said. “It’s not like I didn’t know WHEN I had to pee, I just didn’t know that there was a way to do it inside,” looking away, he added. “Eheh… Um… Did Goten behave?” Vegeta shrugged, “Nothing got destroyed.” * The following day, Vegeta was training with Trunks in the gravity chamber. It went well for a while, but then Trunks really started to slow down, stumbling and needing to pause to lean against the wall frequently. “Come on, Trunks!” Vegeta snapped. “I know you can do better than this!” “I’m trying!” Trunks whined. “But, I— Um… Never mind!” “What?” Vegeta asked. “Come on, out with it!” “It’s just… I… I need a break now, Dad… I’m sorry.” Vegeta noticed that Trunks was squirming in a very peculiar way. He looked like he had to… But, he was too ashamed to say it! Vegeta’s heart-rate quickened. It was happening, despite all of Vegeta’s best efforts, his son was going to suffer with the same curse. What could he do? Vegeta couldn’t even break his OWN curse, how was he supposed to help Trunks if he didn’t know how to help himself?! “Do you need to relieve yourself?” “Yeah…” Trunks said, fidgeting more and blushing. “I’m sorry.” And there was that look in his eyes again, he was afraid of Vegeta’s anger. But, Vegeta wasn’t angry with Trunks, if he was mad at anyone, it was himself! He hadn’t protected his son! Trunks felt the same shame that HE always did now! He’d failed! Maybe this thing was actually hereditary. It was just written into Trunks’s DNA, coded there with no way around it, and that was all Vegeta’s fault! “Don’t apologize,” he said. What had he done wrong? How had he screwed this up? He always allowed Trunks to take pee breaks when they trained, even at the most inconvenient of moments. And, he NEVER scolded his son over it, he held his tongue, didn’t ask ‘Why didn’t you go BEFORE?’ But, that hadn’t been enough, something about his demeanor must have communicated to Trunks that this was something to feel ashamed over. “You can tell me when you need a break.” “I know,” Trunks said. “But, I figured you were gonna say ‘no’.” Vegeta had never told him ‘no’ before. Denying Trunks what he needed was a dangerous game. One accident would be all it took… “Why would I do that? You’re gonna have a hard time getting stronger if you’re distracted.” “Well, Calculi never lets me go when I ask,” Trunks said. “She says I’m old enough to be able to wait. And, you’re way stricter than her, so I just thought you’d make me wait, too.” “And who is Calculi?” “My teacher,” Trunks said. “You don’t know my teacher’s name?” He squirmed more. “Dad—“   “Trunks, go,” Vegeta ordered. His tone was harsher than he’d intended, and he felt a few stabs of regret as he watched Trunks run off. He hadn’t meant to sound so frustrated, he just WAS. But, not at Trunks. How DARE this person not allow HIS son to use the restroom when he needed to?! Here Vegeta was, trying as hard as he could to make sure Trunks NEVER felt bad about this topic, only for someone ELSE to undermine him! Telling him he should be able to wait at his age, basically shaming him for needing to go! Preventing him from going even after the urge got bad enough for him to ask… What if, one day, she forced him to wait TOO long? What if his son was made to have an accident in front of all his classmates? And what would this Calculi say to him then?! Would she shame him further for not being able to wait? Even if SHE didn’t, the other children WOULD. And… That would be it. Trunks would be humiliated, he’d be disappointed in himself, he’d experience mortification so intense that he’d end up— Maybe she just wanted him to wait for a designated break-time. That was still infuriating, but there was less risk of Trunks having an accident if he was still allowed to go every so often. But, when Trunks got back, and Vegeta asked him how often he was given a break at school, Trunks just shook his head. “We have recess, but we have to stay outside the whole time, so I can’t go then. And, we have lunch, but that’s inside the classroom and I’m not supposed to leave.” Vegeta turned that over in his mind, it sounded like Trunks wasn’t given ANY chances to pee at school whatsoever. He was apparently expected to hold it all day, until he got home. An uncomfortable, tetchy heat coursed through Vegeta’s body as he pictured that. It was sort of like what he felt before transforming into a super Saiyan, and he was shocked that this was actually getting him THAT mad. “I’m going to settle this,” Vegeta decided. “Dad, you can’t! Don’t talk to her about this! It’s embarrassing!” “Who said anything about ‘talking’?” “Dad, no!” Vegeta sighed, “Fine. How about this? Next time she doesn’t let you go, I want you to flip her off, tell her she’s an asshole, and go anyway.” “But—“ “If you get in trouble, I’ll handle it,” Vegeta said. “I can be very persuasive.” *** The first thing Vegeta heard when he emerged from the gravity chamber a few days later was Bulma screaming his name. He was tired after his workout, but not SO tired that he couldn’t come running to her. She sounded so upset that he thought she MUST have been in danger. He rushed into the kitchen, fists raised “What’s wrong?!” He didn’t sense anything treacherous, and Bulma didn’t look frightened. Her face was bright red though, brows knit with a fury he hadn’t seen in a while, “Did you SERIOUSLY tell Trunks to give his teacher the middle finger and swear at her?!” “Of course I did,” Vegeta said. “What else was I supposed to do?”
A science fiction story about an alien learning about how the world works. Feel free to comment or add to the story. On the distant planet of Omorax, there was an alien named Zara, who had just materialised. On this planet, the Omoraxians as they were known, did not get born from their mothers like on Earth, but they materialised into life using a process of matter integration. This meant that they entered life with a body looking similar to but not quite the same as a human of about 18 to 20 years old, but as you might expect their internal organs were arranged somewhat differently. They materialised having just a little knowledge of how the world worked, which even though not very much , they had an intense curiosity to learn about themselves and their surroundings. Speaking of the materialisation process, there were a few genders that existed, similar to humans. Zara was similar to, but of course not exactly like what humans might describe as a human female, so while not completely accurate and the differences too complicated for the human mind to comprehend, for the sake of simplicity and to be able to tell this story before the heat death of the universe, we will call Zara a “her” and describe her as a “she”. () () Humans have a difficult time understanding the genders on their own planet, so the likelihood of humans being able to understand the Omoraxian’s genders is somewhere in the region of Nil Squared. This was only the first day of her materialisation, and she was out on a long walk, learning about how these things called legs work for short distance transport, she began to feel a strange sensation just above the part of her body where her legs joined together. She found this sensation intriguing but not too unpleasant, wanting to know what it was. She made an interbrain communication to the help desk for the Newly Integrated to get some advice. It was explained to her that the Omoraxian body slowly but continuously produced a liquid waste product called Exorion which gets stored in her Exorionic chamber until she was able to Perform an Exorionate Elimination. (Often called PEE for short) She was warned though that it was forbidden to pee anywhere except at home or at an authorised location known as an Exorionate Excretion Facility, where she must claim a receipt. () () The correct paperwork to request is the “Private Interplanetary Storage System” receipt, which by law must be taken with you when you leave. If you are a visitor and unfamiliar with the rules may be asked, “Are you taking the PISS?” to remind you. She was told that her Uxorionic chamber had a limited capacity and she would need to concentrate on keeping the chamber from emptying itself, especially when it was close to its maximum containment specification. As she had been walking for a long time, there was nowhere close by where she could pee. The problem was that her Uxorionic chamber was starting to fill up more and because this was the first time she had to deal with this, she did not actually know what the maximum capacity of her Uxoronic chamber was. Zara decided that this would be a good learning opportunity to find out what her own capacity was and to find a way to increase it. After a while Zara found that she did indeed need to concentrate to keep her Uxorionic chamber under control. The feeling of needing to pee became stronger and stronger. She refused to give in. She told herself that if she could prevent doing a pee that she would be stronger and more in control of her body. However, as the minutes ticked by, the pressure in her Uxoronic chamber grew more intense and she began to doubt her decision. Her legs felt wobbly and her stomach ached, but she refused to give up. Zara finally made it back to her home after her long hike, but she was still in urgent need to pee. She had wanted to pee for so long that she felt like she couldn't stop it from happening much longer. As soon as she got home, she ran to her Elimination Room, tense with anticipation. She frantically pulled down her pants and knickers and sat down on the Elimination seat. (Yes, some aliens do wear knickers!) As Zara sat there, she decided not to pee for as long as possible. She had made up her mind that she wanted to push herself to see how long she could keep control of her Uxorionic chamber. She pulled her knickers back up, determined not to let any of her Exorion fluids escape from her Uxoronic chamber. She sat down on the elimination seat and took a deep breath. She focused on trying to distract herself by thinking of something else. As she sat there, she could feel her Uxorionic chamber expanding like a balloon, pushing against the walls of her body. It was uncomfortable, but she refused to give in. She kept telling herself that she was strong, and she could do this. However, as the minutes ticked by, the pressure grew more intense. Her lower back began to ache and she could feel sweat beading on her forehead. Her body was starting to feel weak and she had trouble standing up. Despite all this, she refused to give up. She wanted to prove to herself that she could control her fluids for as long as possible, and she wouldn't let her body dictate her willpower. Despite the overwhelming urge to pee, Zara was still determined to hold her fluids in. She concentrated as hard as she could to keep control of her Uxorionic chamber, willing herself to push through the discomfort. As she sat there, she could feel her Uxorionic chamber becoming fuller and fuller, stretching and straining against her skin. The pressure was almost unbearable, and her entire body was tense with strain. She tried to distract herself by thinking of other things, but the intense sensation of fullness in her Uxorionic chamber was always at the forefront of her mind. Minutes turned into hours and Zara was still sitting on the elimination seat determined to not to pee. Her body was begging her to give in but her determination kept her going. As the hours passed, the pain and discomfort became almost unbearable. Her head was pounding, her back ached and she was lightheaded from the effort. As Zara sat on the Elimination Seat, tears streaming down her face because of the great pain she was in, something strange happened. She felt her body begin to shrink and contort, until she was no longer an alien, but an Eighteen-year-old human girl. She was disoriented and confused, and it took her a moment to realize that she was no longer an alien on her home planet, but a young girl in university, sat on the toilet. She was already having a wee which she finished and quickly pulled up her pants, and looked around in confusion. She had no idea how she had gotten there or how long she had been there. She walked out of the toilets and found herself in a hallway filled with university students of her own age, all chattering and laughing as they walked to their classrooms. The girl, who was not sure what her name was now, still trying to understand what had happened, made her way to the principal's office and explained the situation to him. He listened patiently and offered to call her parents. When her parents arrived, she was finally able to understand what had happened. She really was human and had been in a deep cryogenic sleep since she was 6 years old where her parents’ space transport had crash landed and she was the sole survivor. Eventually she she was found by humans on a rescue mission who brought her back to Earth where she was taken good care of until it was safe to reanimate her once she became an adult. She was overwhelmed by her new surroundings, the new culture and the fact that she had missed so much of her life. She was determined to make the best of it and to learn all she could about this new world. As she adapted to her new life on Earth, she started to notice familiar sensations returning. She was watching documentaries on TV when she realized that she had the urge to relieve herself. She tried to hold it in like she had before, but the feeling was too intense. She started to feel a growing sense of desperation. She ran as quickly as she could to the toilet and was relieved that she had got there in time. She opened the toilet door and went inside, ready to use the toilet. She knew she couldn't hold it in any longer. She tried to pull her pants down but found that the zip was stuck, as she tried to pull the zip down, she could not hold on any longer and the pee started coming out into her knickers and she felt the pee running down her legs and making a puddle on the toilet floor. Crying, she realised that she did not like wetting her knickers and decided that she needed more practice at holding her pee when she could not get to the toilet. Edited January 11 by A weird mind (see edit history)
Comment from the author: This story is inspired by a reddit thread in r/dirtywritingprompts, which was in it's turn inspired by the graphic novel The White Room. The story contains female and male nudity, and female and male desperation and wetting. I will post this story in a number of installments. EQUILIBRIUM When Patrick slowly awoke from his sleep, the very first thing that he noticed was that his bedsheets were missing. With his eyes still closed, he moved his hands all over the mattress, and it wasn’t until he couldn’t find what he was looking for, that he realised that something was off. He raised his head and examined his surroundings; a well artificially illuminated white ceiling above him, his alcove bed nested into a white wall, with a spotless white floor next to it - unfamiliar terrain, to say the least. In the middle of the room stood a translucent glass cabin which looked like a shower, and in the wall on his left there was a door as white as the wall, with only the steel door knob visible. Patrick swiftly got up from the bed, wondering how he got here, and he walked towards the only exit, hoping to find the answer to that question behind the door. It was locked, and the key wasn’t in the lock - in fact, there was no visible lock at all. Above the door, there was a message in red LED numbers; 5:00:00, but Patrick didn’t know what it meant. Patrick groaned as he turned around, and his jaw dropped to the floor. Nested in the wall opposite to his bunk, there was an identical sheet-less bed, and a beautiful woman was lying in it, naked as the day she was born. She seemed to be still asleep, facing the wall, and Patrick had a good view over her arched back and her bare buttocks. His morning wood stiffened a bit, and it wasn’t until now that he properly realised that he was in his birthday suit as well. The woman rolled over on the mattress, exposing her breasts to Patrick, and loudly yawned in the process of waking up. Patrick took a step towards her to introduce himself, but then quickly changed his mind. If he didn’t know how he ended up here, chances were that the unknown woman didn’t know either. He realised that it wouldn’t be a good look if he would come up to her with his cock swinging like he was some kind of pervert. Or, he figured, it could very well be that she was the pervert. Either way, Patrick walked back towards his own bed, and sat himself down with his back against the wall. The woman yawned again, slowly opened her eyes, gasped, and then screamed. She bolted upright, also pressed her back against the wall so that she was farthest away from Patrick as possible, and pulled her bent legs to her chest to cover herself. “Who the fuck are you? What did you do to me? Where are my fucking clothes?”, she squealed towards Patrick, who was happy that he had taken the reluctant approach. “I don’t know either, I swear!”, he replied as articulate as he could. “Liar! Get me out of here, you fucking pervert!”, she rebutted, and then went silent, breathing hard. Patrick moved himself a bit closer by sitting on the edge of his bed, and tried to reason with the woman, although he could understand her reaction. ‘Look, I just woke up as well. I don’t know how the hell I ended up here, and who is responsible for all this, but it sure isn’t me. You have to believe me...” The woman looked up, and also moved herself towards the edge of her bed, eying the door. She took a deep breath, and then dashed towards the exit, covering her breasts with one arm, while bashing on the door with her free hand. “Help me! Someone please help me! Help!”. The woman went on and on until her voice went shrill. She then collapsed on the floor, curled herself up, and started crying. Patrick got up and tried to approach her, but backpedaled again as the woman begged him to stay the fuck away from her. They both stayed silently in position for a few hours, until Patrick got up from his bed, fueled by a nagging full bladder. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I really have to go - and it doesn’t seem like we will be out here soon.” He cupped his hand around his junk, and then awkwardly walked over to the shower cabin in the middle of the room. At knee height, there was a white porcelain object that looked like a toilet, but when Patrick tried to open the hinged lid, it didn’t budge. He tried it with the other hand, no such luck either. He sighed and looked at the shower drain, and his full bladder spasmed. He doubted for a few seconds, but then aimed his cock towards the drain and relieved himself - very slowly, in order to make as little as sound as possible. As the last drops landed on the floor, he sighed, and suddenly, the shower turned itself on. “What the hell?” Patrick said, and the water flow stopped again as quickly as it had started. A vortex coming from the tiny holes in the ceiling swiftly dried Patrick’s body, and he stepped out of the shower, puzzled but relieved. He noticed that the woman had returned to her own bed, so he did the same. Another two hours later, the woman walked towards the shower cabin herself, and fruitlessly tried to open the toilet lit. While swearing inside, she walked towards the exit door, and started bashing it again. “Hello, is anyone there? I have to use the bathroom! Please, anyone?” “I don’t think anyone can hear us”, Patrick tried to make contact with the woman again, but she lashed out again. “I don’t wanna hear it - pervert. Hello? I have to pee! I just wanna use the bathroom, no tricks - I swear!” “I really don’t think anyone is there”, Patrick slowly said again, and pointed at the shower, but the woman looked at him like he was some kind of caveman. “I’m not using that,” she said, “I’ll just hold it until anyone arrives”, and then she went back to her bed. Patrick simply shrugged, and laid himself down on the mattress again. “Yeah, let’s hope someone arrives soon, so we can get the hell out of this weird place”, he repeated, and closed his eyes. Another two hours later, he heard the sound of the woman getting up again. Patrick turned his head, and noticed that she was holding herself down there with one hand, tapping her foot on the floor. After he had heard her restlessly shifting around in her bed for the last hour, it was obvious to him that she was desperately in need of a bathroom. “Fine,” she said, “it seems like I have no other choice. Don’t look, alright. Turn your head towards the wall.” Patrick obeyed and she tiptoed towards the shower, then danced above the drain for a minute or three, moaning. “Hey what's-your-name, how many fingers am I holding up?” she finally proclaimed. “I don’t know,” Patrick replied, “I’m not watching - five?” “Ok,” the woman said, “but just to make sure, put the palms of your hands above your eyes - no, ah - better, put them on your ears. And don’t peek! I don’t want you to hear, or see anything!” Patrick sighed, finding that the woman acted a little childish, so he nonchalantly held his hands over his ears like a petulant child would do, spacing his fingers apart. “Hey, can you still hear me?”, the woman asked, and after a few seconds of silence, Patrick heard a loud moan, followed by the pattering sound of thousands of drops falling to the floor. Just like Patrick, the woman tried to slowly relieve herself in order to be as silent as possible, but she had held it all back for so long, and she was unable to control the flow - with violent bursts, the woman emptied her bladder. Only after fifty-three seconds, Patrick had counted mississippily, the stream died and the shower turned itself on. Patrick didn’t hear from her again until the lights in the room went dim to indicate that the night had started; when she thought he had fallen asleep, she ran towards the shower to relieve herself again. It was ‘only’ thirty-one seconds, but it was a steady stream, clearly not holding herself back this time. - - - The lights were back on, when Patrick woke up the next morning. He laid still for a few minutes before leaving his bed, fueled by two urges; his throat was dry, and he needed to relieve himself from his morning piss. Covering his genitals with both hands, he strolled over towards the shower to take care of the latter. Through the transparent glass, he noticed that the woman was already awake as well, lying on her bed and facing the ceiling. She had her chest covered with crouched arms, obviously aware of Patrick’s presence in the room. Patrick tried to open the hinged lid of the toilet-resembling porcelain object, but failed to do so as had been the case yesterday. He sighed, turned around so that his back was turned towards the woman, and took a leak. After he finished, the shower turned itself on, and a vortex dried his body afterwards. Upon leaving, he again tried to open the lid on the porcelain object, but no such luck. “It only unlocks when you have to go number two”, Patrick heard the woman speak, and his heart jumped a beat. She had approached the shower in silence, and was standing an arms length away from Patrick. One hand covered her genitals while she folded her other arm over her bare breasts, but Patrick still had a good view over her body. He felt his cock stiffening, and pushed it down while hiding his privates with his hand. “Good to know…” he replied, a little startled. It was good to know; he had already feared yesterday that he would have to take a dump in the cubicle and hope it would flush down the drain. He had already gotten used to peeing in the shower, but poo was definitely another thing. “Well uh… How do you know?” Patrick broke the silence with a silly question, and the woman’s face turned beet red. Patrick kicked himself mentally; there was off course only one way that the woman could have found out. She had waited until the middle of the night, until Patrick had properly fallen asleep. “I’m Patrick, by the way”, he quickly tried to change the subject. He extended his free hand, but immediately retracted it once he realised that the woman needed both arms to cover herself. The woman raised her eyebrow at first and then bursted out giggling. “I’m Jane”, she smiled, simply nodding, “I’m sorry for laughing out loud, but can I say that you are acting weird?” “This is weird!” Patrick blurted out, and raised the corner of his mouth as well; he felt a little more relaxed now that the woman wasn’t yelling at him like yesterday. “Yeah, I guess so, but still... Any idea how we ended up here?” Jane asked, her eyes scanning the room. “No clue,” Patrick replied, “the last thing I remember is that I was walking into the steam room in the com…” “... communal pool in Greenville?” Jane interrupted Patrick, gasping. “That’s so weird, that’s the last thing I remember as well, and the next thing that I know is that I woke up here.” Patrick examined the woman from head to toe, and then it occurred to him that she looked somewhat familiar. “The pool…” he said, “you’re that woman in the green bikini…” With the skimpy fabric on top, his mind continued, but he didn’t say that part out loud, not wanting to reveal that he had been staring at her knockout bosom. “Um - yeah,” the woman nodded, “and you are… I’m sorry, I don’t really know who you are…” Patrick once again regretted his straightforwardness, but Jane didn’t seem to mind. “... red speedo?” she continued. “A blue speedo,” Patrick corrected her, “but good guess. I wonder where it is now, but on the other hand, maybe we have more important things to worry about. Like, how are we going to survive without food?” “Wait, you don’t have food?” Jane asked, and as she noticed that Patrick threw her a puzzled look, she turned around and invited him towards her bed with a gentle hand wave. “I have a fridge full of it”, she pointed her chin at the foot end of her bed, still carefully covering her private parts with her arms. Patrick slowly stepped forward, opened the cabinet, and his stomach rumbled as he laid eyes on a myriad of sandwiches, salads, tropical fruits, and so on. “I haven’t eaten anything yet,” Jane explained, “because who knows what it is in that food, but… if you want some, be my guest. On the other end of my bed there’s a water cooler with two cups, if you want to drink something other than shower water.” Patrick hesitated for a few seconds, but then decided to grab a sandwich. One of them had to try them out, he figured, and eating food from an unknown source was better than starving - presumably anyway. He also filled a cup with water from the cooler, and then looked at Jane, who was shielding her naked body as much as she could. Although she wasn’t yelling anymore like yesterday, there still was an understandable awkward tension between them. Patrick nodded, and then walked over towards his bed, where he promptly feasted upon the fresh food. - - - The next days continued in similar fashion; Patrick and Jane stayed in their respective beds, only leaving them to grab food or to relieve themselves. On the sixth day, Patrick suddenly noticed that Jane was standing next to his bed, covering her breasts and privates in usual fashion. He quickly cupped his balls as well, and sat straight up. “I’m bored”, Jane simply announced, sighing. Patrick stared at the naked woman before him, and tried to come up with an activity to do. He felt his stiffening member pressing against his hand, asking for his attention. Well hello there, I have a small suggestion for what we could do, Patrick’s penis told his brain, and Patrick had trouble pushing the thought back. Obviously, that was not what Jane meant. “I, uh…” Patrick spoke to clear the uncomfortable silence, “yeah, I’m pretty bored as well. I’ve been trying to figure out in my head how we can leave this place, but I haven’t thought of anything yet. Not a single clue…” “Yeah,” Jane deeply sighed, “this place is spotless…” “Well, apart from the red numbers above the door - 5:00:00 - do you think it means something? It is so out of place in this white room that it feels like a clue, a riddle that we have to solve. I don’t know. I’ve been trying to wrap my head around it, but I have no idea what it means.” “Wait, so you think we're in some kind of game show like… Big Brother?” Jane asked while she stared at the LED message. “I don’t know, I don’t know…” Patrick mumbled. “All I know is that this is not the way that I would like to spend my hard-earned twee week vacation. My colleagues at the chemical plant won’t even notice that I’m gone. Do you think anyone has reported you missing by now?” “I’m not sure,” Jane sighed again, “I was also between two jobs, and my parents are on a cruise ship right now. So probably not.” “Your boyfriend, a sister or brother maybe?” Patrick enquired further. “Only child and no boyfriend, sorry”, Jane smiled. Patrick wondered why a knockout woman like Jane did not have a boyfriend, but decided not to ask her that out loud; this was nor the place or time to make semi-flirtatious comments. Or maybe she was a lesbian, he wondered. Yeah, he sure wasn’t going to ask that. “So, two weeks before you are reported missing”, Jane continued. “What do we do in the meantime?” “Two weeks minimum”, Patrick stressed, “and even then; how are they going to find us? I think our best option is to try to solve the riddle.” They both fruitlessly stared at the LED message for a while, until Patrick broke the silence. “Elephant,” he simply said. “Elephant?” “Yeah, now it’s your turn to find an animal name that starts with the letter T” “First letter, last letter? Really?”, Jane playfully laughed at Patrick’s suggestion. “Are you afraid I’ll beat you? Because I will”, Patrick taunted Jane, smiling. “Oh - we’re on”, Jane smirked, “... tiger.” “Raptor.” - - - After five more days, Patrick and Jane were still oblivious about what the red numbers above the door meant, but they had slowly gotten accustomed to each other's presence. During the day - when the lights were on - Patrick frequently sat beside Jane on the edge of her bed to eat, drink, talk and play light hearted word games. Patrick and Jane had mutually decided that covering their genitals with their arms and hands one hundred percent of the time got somewhat tiring, and they had found their own way to be around each other, while being naked. Patrick had learned how to fold one leg over another so that his junk was somewhat covered, as long as he sat sideways to Jane. She, on the other end, had decided that her breasts were no longer taboo, as long as she didn’t catch Patrick glaring at them. He made sure not to stare out of respect, and also because doing so would immediately provoke a sudden hard-on, a phenomenon which he tried to prevent. After all, he was still very aroused by the magnificent body of Jane, and keeping his cock flaccid was no simple task. He wasn’t sure whether Jane noticed the random boners from time to time, but she hadn’t discussed the matter yet, and he figured that Jane was not too disturbed by them. Patrick emptied his drinking cup, and while he filled it up again, he thought of another game. He grabbed the second cup, filled it and handed it over to Jane. “Never have I ever... been locked inside a room for days”, he said, and emptied his cup entirely. “You know the rules of this game, right?” he asked, while staring at Jane’s cup. “Of course”, Jane winked, and emptied her own cup as well. Patrick filled both cups again. “Never have I ever skipped a school day”, she continued, and Patrick downed his drink, while Jane held her own drink perfectly still. “Really, never?” Patrick asked, and Jane sported a good-girl-next-door smile. “Never have I ever been late for school”, Patrick fired the next question, to which they both drank. “Hey, I’m a good girl, not a saint”, Jane laughed. “Never have I ever worn a skirt to school”, she emptied her cup, and to her surprise, Patrick did as well. “A kilt counts as a skirt, right?” Patrick asked. Jane smiled and nodded. “A Scottish kilt? Did you go commando like it’s tradition over there?” “Let’s find out,” Patrick winked, “never have I ever worn a skirt to school, while wearing nothing underneath it.” He held his drink steady in his hand, but saw Jane hesitantly bringing her cup towards her lips. “Not such a good girl after all”, Patrick taunted, while Jane downed her drink, her face reddening. They went on for some time, playfully firing questions at each other, until the water cooler tap gurgled after Patrick wanted to fill their empty cups for the umpteenth time. “We’re out of water,” he communicated, “I guess the game is over for now.” Patrick turned around, only to see Jane with a shocked expression on her face, her trembling finger pointing at the door. “The red numbers… they’re changing!” TO BE CONTINUED
Patrick blinked his eyes in disbelief, while staring at the LED numbers above the door, who were in fact changing. The static message 5:00:00 which had been there since the beginning, had transitioned into 4:59:33, and the last number was counting down by the second. Patrick’s heart started beating in his chest. Like Jane, he didn’t know what the countdown meant, but after the last days of nothing, any change was like a drop of water in the desert. Especially because the countdown clock was so conveniently placed above the exit door. After the initial shock, Patrick's mind started working. Could it be that the door would open in a mere five hours, and that they would finally be able to escape the room? Or… maybe it was the opposite, and did the numbers try to tell them that they had less than five hours from now to walk through the exit? Only one way to find out, Patrick thought to himself as he strode towards the door. He pulled the knob with great anticipation, but the door did not budge. Jane, who had followed in his footsteps, moved right beside him and also pulled the knob, with the same result. “I guess we’re gonna need some patience…” she mumbled, and Patrick nodded. The room went silent; the playful atmosphere that they had crafted in the last couple of days had disappeared in an instant. Both Jane and Patrick kept staring at the countdown, only their breathing audible, until they heard the water cooler gurgle. At the same time, the countdown suddenly stopped at 4:50:00. “Ok, so now what?” Patrick sighed. “Could it be that…'' Jane said simply, and without finishing her sentence, she walked over to her bunk. The water cooler had refilled itself again up to the lowest marking, strengthening her belief that the water in the tank had something to do with the countdown. She grabbed her cup, emptied the cooler again, and the clock started going down again. Feeling good about her ingenuity, she walked over towards Patrick. “So, here’s my theory - the clock only counts when the cooler is empty”, she said, while looking at the number 4:49:13 above her head. “Every ten minutes the cooler fills up to the next mark again, so if we want the clock to keep ticking, we have to make sure that we empty it every ten minutes.” “Ok…” Patrick nodded. “Weird, but not implausible in this strange setting… Let’s test the theory, it’s not like we have better things to do here anyway.” “I suggest you guard the door - you’re the guy, you have to protect us for whatever happens behind it. I’ll stay by the cooler, so that I can drink the water when it replenishes.” A little less than an hour later, the timer hit 4:00:00, and a clunking noise came from the door; it was the unmistakable sound of a door bolt unlocking itself. The door itself did not budge, so Patrick and Jane assumed that they needed to unlock more of these bolts. They loyally continued their activity for a while, until Jane stood up after downing yet another cup of water, and walked towards the shower cabin. “Nature calls”, she announced, and Patrick fixated his eyes on the red LED numbers above him to give her a bit of privacy to her business. Even after they had relieved themselves a lot of times in each other's presence, the vulnerable act still felt strange to them. Patrick decided to count the numbers of the clock in silence to distract himself. “3:29:46… 3:29:45… 3:29:44… 3:29:43… 5:00:00… wait… 5:00:00?!” Patrick heard the door bolt lock itself again, and his heart skipped a beat. “No… no!” He turned around, saw a trickle between Jane’s legs landing on the shower floor, and connected the two dots together. Without thinking further, he swiftly marched towards the cabin, and watched the trickle expand into a steady stream. Jane, who had not expected that Patrick would approach her, had not turned her back to him this time before squatting down. “Stop, Jane, stop!” shouted Patrick, wildly waving his hands, while Jane was painfully aware that Patrick had a full view over her genitals and the river that she was pissing. She clenched her muscles and tried to stop the flow so that she could cover her intimate parts, but she had just started going and could only diminish the stream to a small trickle. She jumped up, pee seeping down her legs, before a new burst erupted from her bladder, expanding the stream again. “I can’t - Jesus, Patrick, what the fuck are you doing!” “The clock, it stopped! After you started to relieve yourself!” “For fuck’s sake, Patrick, look away!” Jane shouted angrily, piss torrenting out of her and splashing everywhere. “Yeah but the clock… ok, yeah, ok, you’re right, you’re right”, Patrick realized his mistake, and he turned himself around. While he walked to Jane’s bunk to inspect the water cooler, he overheard Jane’s pee stream hitting the shower drain in full force again. The distinct sound continued for a while, followed by the shower turning itself on, and the vortex drying Jane’s body. It was so quiet in the room that Patrick could hear Jane’s footsteps, announcing her presence. “The water cooler is filled to the top again,” Patrick pointed out, “I think we need to do the challenge once more. Apparently… using the shower drain resets the whole thing.” “Great”, Jane said with a fragile voice, and placed herself on the other edge of the bed, curled up with her back facing Patrick. “Now can you please go to your own side of the room?” “Ok, I understand you need a few minutes, just let me know when…” Patrick delicately answered her request, before being interrupted by Jane. “Just go away, Patrick,” she squealed audibly upset, “just stay the fuck away from me!”, and she erupted in tears while he dejectedly walked back towards his own bed. - - - Only two days later, Patrick dared to return towards the other side of the room again. They had not shared a word since “the incident”, but he was hungry, and decided to no longer await Jane’s signal. She had her arm folded over chest again like in the first days, and carefully covered her intimate parts with the other arm; the intimate atmosphere that they had crafted over the days was clearly no longer present. “Can I take something to eat?” Patrick pointed at the fridge, after which Jane nodded without saying a word. “Thanks”, he said and lingered around for a few seconds, hoping he would get something out of Jane. She remained silent, so Patrick got up again, ready to return to his bed. “Wait,” Jane instructed, “we should talk about what happened.” Patrick happily sighed. “Yes, we definitely should. I just want to say that I’m really sorry that I walked into you while…” “No.” Jane said. “I don’t want to talk about that. I especially don’t want to talk about that. No, I mean, we should talk about the situation with the water cooler and the clock that reset itself.” “Of course. What do you think?” “I think you’re right, I think it’s a challenge we need to complete. I think we need to do it once more. This time without relieving ourselves into the shower drain. Or maybe only you can do it, I don’t know.” “Ok, let’s try your last suggestion first. Maybe the creators of this game are incredibly sexist. It’s my time to drink anyway, you did it last time.” Patrick downed all the water from the cooler, until the 2:15:00 mark. After he had paced around with an exceptionally full bladder for the last couple of minutes, he decided that holding it all until the timer ran out would not be possible; it was time to put Jane’s theory to the test. With his eyes fixated on the LED countdown, he felt the first drops of an absolute torrent touch the tip of his penis. 5:00:00. Despite the relief he had from emptying his bladder, Patrick swore inside. In the next couple of days, they tried a bunch of different theories in order to try to game the system. At first, both Jane and Patrick peed on the floor, instead of the shower drain. Then they poured the contents of the water cup into the shower drain so that they wouldn’t have to hold it all. Then they poured the water onto the floor. Then Jane poured the contents between her legs, into the porcelain bidet while she was doing number two. Then both Patrick and Jane pissed in the water cup, instead of the shower drain or floor. But every solution they tried to come up with to release the fluids somewhere had the same result; the clock always reset itself with the water cooler filled up again. Patrick sighed deeply after the last fruitless effort to game the system. “So, no loopholes then”, he groaned. “Someone must really keep the liquid inside their body. Is that even physically possible?”, he pondered out loud, while thinking about the recent encounter where he had failed to even pass the two hour mark. “Maybe not by one person,” Jane replied and laid her hand on his shoulder to encourage Patrick, “but there are two of us. We could take turns to drink the water, so we only have to take in half the amount. If we can find the perfect equilibrium, then…” Equilibrium… Equilibrium… the word resonated into Patrick’s head, and he suddenly veered up. “Equilibrium! Yes, that’s it, that’s what the symbol means! Jane, I think you just solved the clue!” Patrick cheered, and leant forward with the intent to hug the woman, but then stepped back once he realised they were still both naked. “I’m sorry,” Jane cluelessly smiled, “but I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “Yin and yang. The perfect equilibrium”, Patrick explained while he pointed at the round symbol above the water dispenser. “It’s a Chinese philosophical concept of opposing and complimenting qualities. If one force declines, the other force increases to an equal degree. I think you’re right, we both should drink the water to compliment each other. If the game is designed this way, it would mean that the number of 5:00:00 is not just trivial…” “I believe we can do it”, Jane said with confidence. She extended the arm which was covering her chest towards Patrick to offer him her hand. “Let’s start tomorrow. Deal?” It was the first time since the incident that Patrick laid eyes on Jane’s breasts again. He pushed his imminent erection back with one hand, shook Jane’s hand with the other, and smiled. “Deal.” TO BE CONTINUED
With a game of “Eeny, meeny, miny, moe”, they decided that Jane was the one to drink the first cup. In a few minutes, they drained the water tank, after which the timer started counting down. The first hour was rather uneventful. Both Patrick and Jane made themselves comfortable in Jane’s bunk while they shared stories. Every ten minutes, one of them swimmingly downed a cup of water to keep the countdown running. After the second hour neared its end, Patrick eventually stood up ‘to stretch his legs’. Or so he said to Jane. In reality, he felt his bladder filling up quite fast, and started to feel slightly uncomfortable. Mentally anyway, he had passed the ‘I could go the bathroom in the near future’ phase and was getting into the ‘I should go the bathroom soon’ stage. They had not discussed the topic at all during the last two hours; Jane had not shared anything with Patrick about her state, and he figured that venting about his own situation would have no use either. After all, thinking about full bladders, holding, and other topics related to peeing only would make their need to go even worse. He stared at Jane from a distance, who laid on her back on the mattress in a relaxing position, her arms next to her, nipples pointing up. As if she was carelessly sunbathing at a nude beach. She turned her head towards the room and gently waved at Patrick, and he decided to go back. “You look like you’re on a vacation, partner”, Patrick smiled and laid down next to her. “Oh. but I am, did you enjoy your beach walk, honey?” Jane cheerfully played along. “Well, the view is a little monotone, I think they should have put it in the brochure.” “Well, at least we have room service,” Jane pointed at the fridge, “I ordered some while you were out.” “Oh, but you know I don’t like tropical fruits”, Patrick whined, and gently pushed Jane with his elbow to tease her. “Who said that I ordered it for you?” Jane grinned and ticked Patrick’s nose, before getting up, as the water cooler gurgled again. “Well, time for a drink!” Another hour and a half later, Patrick was no longer able to sit still. With Jane’s help, they had already improved Patrick’s record hold time by three quarters, so the positive note was that Jane’s plan of sharing the water intake seemed to work. The negative note was that Patrick was getting into the same desperate condition, and they still had one hour and thirty minutes to go. Patrick decided not to share his status with Jane, whose facial expression seemed more confident about the situation. With her legs crossed, she sat on the side of the bed, and stared at the timer. Nine minutes until the tank would fill itself to the lowest marking again. Patrick was thankful that Jane would have to drink the next cup, but was thinking about the one that he just downed. Soon, his kidneys would process the liquid and pump even more urine into his already bulging bladder. It was torture, his mind wanted him to scream. But he kept silent, pacing back and forth from his bunk to Jane’s, making sure to stay away from the shower cabin as far as possible. It was so tempting to run there and let it all go, but with all his strength, he denied his body that sweet relief. He looked at Jane, who was his greatest motivation at the moment. Without her, he would have given up already. But the woman seemed so calm and determined, that he needed to endure with her. The first cracks in her shield were finally showing, though. She had the sides of the bed gripped firmly, bounding her crossed leg up and down, when suddenly, she jumped up. With her fists clenched, she found her calmness again, and smiled at Patrick. He stared at the large bulge in her abdomen; it was clear that she also needed to pee very badly. When the timer hit 0:43:00, Patrick was absolutely frantic to piss. His bladder pulsated, hard, his breathing was fast. For the last ten minutes, he had the shaft of his penis firmly gripped, squeezing the member as hard as he could without paining himself too much. The last cup he drank was traveling down his body, and he felt his control slipping away. Patrick realized how obvious his uncontrolled movements were, when Jane threw a supportive look at him, but he couldn’t help it. Jane herself was also struggling with herself, nervously tapping her bare foot on the floor, slowly losing her composure. She inhaled deeply and walked past Patrick, who’s eyes were locked on her. He no longer cared about the timer, all he wanted to do was to relieve him from his almost exploding bladder, but he did not want to leave Jane down. Secretly, part of him hoped that Jane would use the shower drain, so that he could give up too. But Jane simply passed the cabin, leaving his desires unsatisfied. Suddenly, a major spasm overwhelmed him. A spurt escaped his bladder, and no matter how hard he tried to squeeze his penis shut, the small burst of urine escaped the tip of the shaft. He closed his eyes, and with an enormous effort he regained control, but when he opened his eyes, he noticed that there was a small spill of urine on the floor. It was not larger than a nickel, minuscule compared to the ocean that he was still holding back. But the room was unforgiving. When he looked up, the timer had reset itself to 5:00:00 again. Patrick gasped for air, and swiftly marched towards the shower cabin so that he could finally relieve himself. When the river erupted from him, he was ecstatic, his legs trembling, not even realizing completely that they had failed the challenge. He could only think about how good it felt after longing for this release for so long. The stream went on in full force for a long time, landing and loudly splashing onto the shower cabin wall. When the flow rate finally started to slow down, Patrick’s euphoric feeling wore off, and the feeling of defeat kicked in. Because of him, it had all been for nothing. They were still locked inside the room and the water cooler was filled up again. He shook off the last drops, and the shower washed away the puddles in the cabin. After the vortex dried him, he turned around and saw Jane standing in front of the cabin opening, doubled over, hands pressed in her crotch. “Gotta pee, gotta pee…”, she moaned, and gasped when Patrick took a step aside. She stepped into the cabin and just a second later, the room was filled with the sound of Jane’s pee drops hitting the drain. “Ahhhh… ahhhh… ahh…”, she sighed loudly, making it obvious to Patrick that she was fully enjoying the moment as well. He made sure to give Jane her privacy this time, and went back to his bed. Jane pressed her back against the shower wall and watched in bliss how her stomach deflated, and multiple rivers of urine traveled down in between her opened legs. She looked back for a second, and smiled when she noticed that Patrick was not observing her. When her stream died and the shower turned itself on, her left hand traveled down her privates in search of her clit. After just a few strokes, Jane climaxed for the second time in a minute, and she shuddered and moaned loudly, timing it perfectly with the sound of the vortex so that Patrick did not overhear her. “Ok, so this is quite the challenge…” Jane slowly started the conversation with Patrick, who had returned to his bunk. “Jane, I’m sorry about that, I mean, I tried to endure but I could not…” “Yeah, and me neither”, Jane swiftly said with a firm voice. “There was still more than forty minutes on the clock, I’m quite sure that I was unable to do this for another forty minutes. So…” “Yeah,” Patrick interrupted Jane in turn, “and I was not quite sure, I was 100% fucking sure”, he swore, clearly disappointed in himself. “Potato, potato”, minimized Jane, while throwing a wide smile at Patrick. She went sitting besides Patrick and let her fall down backwards on Patrick’s bed with a sigh. “It felt fucking amazing to let it all go, right”, Jane smirked like a teenage girl after a moment of silence. Patrick also dropped himself on the bed, and turned his head towards Jane. “Yeah, it sure did.” “Better than sex?” “Close… different, I’d say. I did not like… the foreplay, for example.” “Mmh.. true. So you wanna try this again tomorrow?” “I don’t think we have a choice, do we?” “Unless you want to be stuck with me for eternity for company, I guess not.” “Yeah, I could have done a lot worse than you as a company, but still…” “Oh, so sweet! I’ll take this as a compliment, and I’ll return you one; I kind of like you too.” They stared at each other for a good minute, their faces only inches apart smiling, and then Jane got up and returned to her side of the room. - - - The next day, they tried to beat the timer again. This time, Patrick was able to hold on until the 0:34:00 mark. The day after, Jane was the first to give in at 0:26:00. Day after day, they came closer to their goal, growing more hopeful after every attempt. They consecutively reached 0:21:00, 0:18:00 and 0:16:00, but the next day, Patrick already lost control at 0:24:00. The day after was even worse when Jane leaked at 0:27:00. “What is happening - why are we going backwards?”, Patrick dejectedly muttered mainly at himself after showering. “I don’t know”, Jane chimed in, “maybe we’re just overtraining? The bladder sphincter is a muscle, right, maybe we don’t give it enough resting time in between our attempts.” “Sounds… actually quite plausible”, Patrick nodded in agreement. “And,” Jane continued, “as it is a muscle, we can train it, just like you accumulate muscle mass at the gym. We just have to find the right workout schedule. And… maybe we don’t have to try so hard everytime. Like when a marathon runner is training, he does not run the whole distance every day, but on race day, he does. We only have to beat the clock once, right?” “Ok, so let’s take a break tomorrow, and start training for the bladder marathon the day after”, responded Patrick. Jane laid her hand on Patrick’s shoulder and pulled herself closer. “We can do this”, she whispered in his ear, shivering as her nipple accidentally touched his arm. TO BE CONTINUED
Patrick looked at Jane in the dim night light and downed the freshly dispensed cup of water. Now that she was sleeping right beside him in her bunk, he couldn’t refrain himself from admiring her beautiful figure. The reason that Patrick was so close to her, instead of sleeping in his own bed, had been Jane’s proposition. Two days ago, she had remarked that kidneys produce a lesser amount of urine while you were sleeping. So she had suggested that she would drink the water of the cooler before the night, and that she would go to sleep while Patrick would stay away to drink the additional water which would appear every ten minutes. Patrick glanced at the red clock above the door and slowly downed the 1:40:00 cup. Compared to the earlier attempts where they had equally shared the water intake, he felt more comfortable at this moment. Knowing that he would have to drink nine more cups before the end of the countdown, however, tempered his confidence in Jane’s idea. His eyes absently wandered off towards Jane’s naked body again. She was resting on her side, her back facing him, making it unable to see her intimate parts and the bladder bulge protruding out of her. Still, even from behind, the view over Jane’s curves titillated Patrick. Slowly, he clamped his stiffened penis, gently thrusted his hand back and forth, and then paused when his erection maximized. He thought about the last time that he had finished himself off, now weeks ago. On the screen of his phone at that time, a lingerie picture of a girl he had met over Tinder. A pretty woman, but nothing compared to the gorgeous figure of Jane. Fueled by lust, his hand traveled down again to caress himself. “No… please!” Jane’s sudden scream pulled Patrick out of his trance, and his breathing intensified. Under the impression that Jane had caught him touching himself, he opened his mouth to excuse himself, but then he noticed that Jane’s eyes were still firmly closed. Patrick quickly realized that Jane was only talking in her sleep, and relaxed again. She had turned around and was now lying on her back. Her hands were between her curled up legs, holding her crotch, and between her arms, a bladder bulge was clearly protruding from her waist. Patrick wasn’t really surprised about the bulge; after all, she had depleted the entire water cooler all by herself. He was however quite surprised that Jane had apparently been so at ease with herself while sporting such a full bladder. In the minutes that followed however, Jane gradually started losing her serenity. By the time the timer hit 1:10:00, Jane was absolutely restless. She laid on her side, curled up in a ball with her legs pulled up, breathing fast. From behind Patrick could see the tips of her strained fingers pressing hard in between her intimate lips. He grabbed the freshly dispensed cup of water and consumed it instantly. His urgency to pee hadn’t really increased in the last half hour, and he was now quite confident that he was going to make it. He stared at the yin and yang symbol above the water dispenser, wondering about the equilibrium theory. If he was not desperate yet, chances were that their bladders were out of balance in this set-up. The intense movements of Jane made him presume so, and he doubted whether Jane could last another hour with such a brimming bladder. He even pondered about waking Jane up to abort the attempt, so that she wouldn’t fruitlessly suffer, but he decided not to. After all, there was a chance that he was wrong about Jane’s state, and he didn’t want to be the one who would mess up a possible successful endeavor. When the cooler dispensed another drink, ten minutes later, Patrick couldn’t help to notice that Jane was tensing up for a few seconds before squirming in place again, her fingers quivering from the force she applied on her crotch. Although she was sleeping, she probably unconsciously perceived the suggestive water pouring sound, Patrick figured. Ten minutes later, his theory was confirmed as Jane froze again when the next cup was poured, and the scenario repeated itself once again after ten more minutes. As they neared the 0:30:00 mark, Patrick started to feel quite optimistic about the attempt. Slowly, although he was getting desperate himself, he was sure that he had the ability to hold on. And Jane hadn’t really changed her behavior in the last half hour. Although she was visibly squirming in her sleep, the status-quo made Patrick believe that she had a chance to make it as well. The cooler dispensed another drink, and Patrick watched how Jane tensed up again. He observed her quivering fingers, digging ever deeper between her lips, until they unexpectedly relaxed. Without further warning, a glistening rivulet ran past them, traveling down her buttcheek, dripping onto the mattress. Patrick quickly glanced at the timer, and realized that Jane was wetting herself in her sleep. She now relaxed completely, loosening the grip over genitals, and Patrick mesmerizingly stared at the widening stream coming out of her. Jane stirred, and Patrick realized that it was indecent to stare at Jane’s intimate act. He certainly didn’t want to repeat “the incident” once more, so he looked away, and noticed that the cooler was filling up again with a gurgling sound. A few seconds later, he heard Jane moving around on the mattress, and realized she was slowly getting awake. “Patrick… what…”, she spoke first with a faded voice. Patrick failed to react, and wondered how one should react when a grown woman wets the bed? Walk away? Look away? Console her? “Fuck, I think I…” “You did your best,” Patrick said finally, shrugging in order to convince Jane it wasn’t a big deal. “I… I was in school and… the teacher didn’t let me go to the bathroom during class and… the bell went and I… thought I made it but… apparently it was all a dream… oh no, I… fuck, I…” Patrick heard Jane’s voice tone evolving from surprise to sadness, and soon, she was sobbing. He felt bad for Jane, and got up and walked towards her side of the bed to console her. Patrick thought about hugging her, but didn’t see how he could position himself without touching the glistening puddle around her. Rather awkwardly, he leaned over and kissed Jane on the forehead. Jane, taken by surprise by Patrick’s gestion, raised her head and wiped away her tears. “The last time I wet the bed, I was five…” “Look, this is not your fault, Jane”, Patrick spoke up. “It’s the room that makes us do these things. You - you did great. I’m proud of you, Jane, you’re a magnificent woman, and I’m sure we can do this one way or another. For now, let’s take a shower and go to bed, we’re both tired.” “Still…” Jane sighed. “Sssht…” said Patrick and placed his finger on her lips. After he went to the glass cabin to relieve himself, Patrick returned to his bunk. Soon after, he subsequently overheard the running shower water and the vortex drying Jane’s body. He closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep, but then heard Jane approaching him. As he turned his head, he saw that Jane was standing an arms length away from him. Her left leg was folded over her right to cover her most intimate parts somewhat, but she didn’t really seem to make an effort to hide her body from Patrick. “Can I sleep with you?”, she asked. Patrick blinked his eyes, his sleepy mind having a hard time examining Jane’s ambiguous question. “You mean… sex?”, he blurted out without thinking properly, and noticed how Jane’s face turned beet red, realizing immediately that wasn’t what she meant. “Sleep next to you in your bed, I mean,” Jane explained, still blushing. “There’s a puddle on my mattress and…” “Of course, of course, I was only messing with you…”, Patrick tried to brush off his indecent proposal as a joke, but he could tell Jane wasn’t buying it - he knew he was a bad liar. “Is it alright if you are the big spoon?” Jane asked and crawled onto Patricks mattress, positioning her back towards him. “Sure,” he said, “we will have the most space this way. Sleep tight, Jane.” “Sleep tight, Patrick,” Jane answered, and moved herself a little closer towards him. “Can I ask you something before we go to sleep, Patrick?” “Anything, Jane,” he yawned as he closed his eyes again. “I could really use a hug at this moment… if you don’t think it’s too weird, of course.” A little bit weird, Patrick thought, but the truth was that he also missed some intimacy after being trapped in the room for so long. He placed his arm over her, his hand conveniently in the middle between Jane’s breasts and groin, making sure that he wasn’t touching any of her intimate areas. Soon, they both fell asleep in this position. - - - By the time Jane woke up the next morning, Patrick had already woken for some time. He had not slept well, partially because his bladder was entirely full with the processed water he drank last night, but also partially because Jane was somewhat pressing him against the back wall of his bunk. In her sleep, she had inadvertently shifted herself towards Patrick, her back touching Patrick’s chest, and her butt only a few inches away from his crotch. His morning wood located itself somewhere in between, and despite all his mental efforts, the thing wouldn’t shrink. Jane yawned and stretched herself, pushing her butt even closer towards Patrick, nearly touching his hard-on. She then moved forward, flinging her legs out of the bunk in one motion, and sat on the edge of the bed. “Good morning…”, she greeted Patrick while turning her head towards him. Surprised by Jane’s sudden movement, Patrick quickly thrusted his hand downward to cover his exposed penis. By Jane’s looks, he could tell that she had seen his flag pole standing up, and to make matters more embarrassing for Patrick, she even decided to speak up about it. “Wow… is this your average morning wood or are you just happy to see me?”, she smiled somewhat playfully, and Patrick’s cheeks instantly reddened. “I… Jane, I’m sorry about that, I don’t want to…”, he almost stumbled over his own words, to which Jane smiled. “Relax, Patrick, I was only playing with you”, she said, “of course you can’t help it that you have a functioning penis, I really don’t mind. In fact, I’ll take it as a compliment.” “A… compliment?” “Well, if I can do that to you without even touching you, then I must be at least somewhat attractive… or is this a ‘in the country of the blind, the one-eyed man is king’ kind of thing?’ “God no!”, Patrick blurted out, “I mean, I really find you quite… you know…” “You’re so cute when you’re shy,” Jane smiled, “but you really shouldn’t be… If it makes you feel any better, well… Let’s just say that I should be glad that a woman's body is more subtle about being excited, because, well…” Patrick couldn’t think of a sensible comeback to that. Jane was flirting with him so brazenly, pushing her boobs forward and all, and he wondered why after all this time, she had chosen this moment to make a move. Was it simply because they had shared the bed together and that she remembered how good intimacy felt? Or had she caught him masturbating while he thought she was sleeping? A sharp jolt in his bladder pulled Patrick out of his trance, and he longingly stared at the cubicle in the middle of the room. He really was desperate to relieve himself, but at the same time it was a good excuse to get himself out of this loaded situation, and he stood up. “Sorry Jane, I really need to pee… I hope you don’t mind…” “Of course”, she simply said, “you’ve had a lot to drink yesterday before you went to sleep. After you, I’d say.” Patrick was glad that he didn’t sense any disappointment in Jane’s voice, and he swiftly walked over towards the shower. With his morning wood still hard, it took him a few seconds for him to start, but he sighed happily as a thick stream splashed against the shower wall.
Wow, thanks for all the nice comments everybody! With the next installment, the story is almost approaching it's end, not there yet, but getting close. --- “Cheers,” said Jane while staring into Patrick’s eyes, before downing her cup and refilling it again. They had decided they had trained enough to make another attempt to beat the timer, and for the first time in days, they watched how the red numbers above the door went down. “Ok, let’s do this,” Patrick encouraged them both, “in five hours, we will open the door!” “Yes, we will!” Jane exclaimed, sharing Patrick’s enthusiasm, “have you already thought about the first thing that you are going to do, once we get out?” “Actually no, but… I guess I will put on my clothes first?”, said Patrick while putting his empty cup on the side of the bed. “Putting on clothes, wow,” replied Jane, “that’s something that I haven’t done in a while. Have you counted how many days we are here?” Patrick shook his head. “I don’t know either”, Jane continued, “I’m thinking that it would feel weird to wear clothes after all this time being naked. I’m not even sure that I want to put my clothes on again…” Patrick chuckled. “So, your plan once we get out is to start a naturist camp?” “Don’t laugh at me, Patrick,” Jane cheerfully retorted, “maybe I will, what are you going to do about it? Ok, you’re right, I probably won’t and put my clothes back on like a good girl… but in the future, I’m probably going to run around the house naked more often.” “I would pay to see that”, Patrick applauded as he winked at Jane. “You must first remember where I live,” smiled Jane, “maybe we won’t even remember anything about this place or about each other.” “Maybe…” pondered Patrick in a more serious tone. “Maybe forgetting about this place wouldn’t be the worst outcome, but it would be a real shame if I wouldn’t remember you…” “Patrick, don’t make me blush like that,” Jane giggled. “Maybe we can also stay here forever together if you’d like?” “I would love to stay with you, but I’m also wondering what’s on the other side of the door. Plus, I miss being outside in the sun, and ice cream”, Patrick joked. “Mmhh… ice cream…” Jane said while licking her lips. “Ok, the first thing I do when we get out of here is order a banana split. Make it two and we’ll share. Deal?” “Deal.” Then, the water cooler gurgled, and after Jane refilled and downed her water cup, the numbers went down again. They swiftly passed the first hour mark, and the second mark also went by without effort. By the time the timer indicated 2:00:00, both Patrick and Jane were nursing a nicely filled bladder. Although they knew from their earlier experience that the organ could still stretch itself further out to make room to store even more urine, they both continuously felt the distinct urge to relieve themselves. Jane downed her cup in one take to keep the timer running, but swallowing became harder on a mental level, because she knew how fast the liquid would run down her body. She looked at Patrick, who was sitting still on the side of her bed, silently watching the timer. “So how are you doing?”, Jane curiously asked while she positioned herself next to him. Patrick raised his eyebrow. “Do you think it’s a good idea to talk about this, wouldn’t it be better to take our mind off peeing?” “I agree that it won’t help with the mental struggle,” she said, “but I think we should share our status nonetheless, especially in the endgame. As you said, the game is about the balance of our holding capacities. But if we don’t talk, the other person will never know when it's time to complement the other one.” “Ok,” Patrick agreed, “in that case, well, I’m definitely starting to feel this constant need, but it’s quite manageable. You?” “Same, I think. I can’t deny that I need to pee by now, but I’m also confident that I can hold more and for a longer time,” Jane shared her position. “In an hour or so, we will know more, I guess. But I have the feeling that compared to our most successful attempt, I feel better - training our bladder muscles really helped, I think”, said Patrick. “Good. Next status check at 1:00:00”, Jane concluded. An hour later, Patrick and Jane were both restless. Patrick, who was pacing around the room again, walked over towards his roommate’s bunk with a painful grimace on his face in order to share his status as promised. Jane, who had just downed the 1:00:00 cup of water, stood with her back pressed against the white wall next to the bedside, her legs crossed. Her hands were folded on her bulging abdomen, and although she tried to reposition herself as Patrick approached, it was clear to him that she was also struggling. “Status check?” Patrick asked Jane. “Oh right, we promised to do it around now… well, it’s getting quite bad, to be honest. My bladder feels so full, and if it hadn’t been for the previous attempts, I would say that holding it for another hour would be impossible. But now I’d say there’s still some margin… not much, but it might be enough”, Jane shared. “Two more cups and whatever our kidneys are pumping down at the moment, that‘s the extra amount our bladders will have to take in” nodded Patrick. “As for me, I feel absolutely full, but in control. There’s this awful stinging sensation inside me, but it’s not really hurting me too much… for now.” Jane laid her hand on Patrick’s shoulder and smiled at him. “You’re doing great, Patrick.” The hand was sweaty, and her other hand balded in a fist; she was clearly uncomfortable, trying to compose herself. “I’m sure you’ll make it too”, Patrick tuned in as well. “You know, if you want to do a pee dance or hold yourself, you can, you don’t have to repress anything for me.” “A part of me wants to”, Jane confessed, “but I don’t want to give in yet. I know the pressure will only get worse, and I only want to use my hands when it’s absolutely necessary. It’s kind of the ultimate resort, you know.” - - - “0:20:23, 0:20:22, 0:20:21…” Patrick paced back and forth next to the door, and tried to distract himself by counting down together with the clock. With his right hand, he held his penis firmly in a tenacious effort to seal his urethra. His bladder was absolutely full, but he was determined to hold on. “0:20:01, 0:20:00” - and then the clock stopped. He overheard Jane filling her cup, and intensely stared at the LED numbers, longing for them to go down quickly again. But they didn’t, and Patrick quickly realized that Jane wasn’t downing her drink. He turned around and saw the full cup standing next to her on her mattress. Jane herself was doubled over, both hands jammed in between her legs, squirming. Patrick marched over towards her bunk, and he found that the closer he came, the more miserable she looked. Her hair was a mess, her eyes were watery with a tear running down her face. With a lot of effort, she let a trembling hand escape from her crotch, but mashed it in between her legs again before she could reach the cup, as if her pubic area had magnetic powers. “I can’t… I can’t…”, she desperately cried out to Patrick, “if I drink, I’m going to pee… I can’t!” Patrick groaned. Although he had a lot of sympathy for Jane’s dire situation, he realized that this stand-still was helping no-one. With the clock stuck, they only had to endure longer in their misery, and the liquid that hadn’t reached their bladders yet, would only travel down and add even more pressure while the cup remained untouched. Almost every muscle in his body seemed to try to stop Patrick from doing what he was about to do. But with an enormous effort, he picked up the cup, placed it at his lips, and downed it in one go. Just swallowing the contents made him feel like his throat was on fire. He was grateful to see the countdown running again; his self sacrifice was not in vain. “T…t…t…thanks”, stammered Jane, still squirming around, and Patrick nodded. “Yin and yang”, he said, “I had to help you out. But you will have to take the next cup, Jane. There’s only ten minutes left after, so it won’t reach your bladder, but…” “Yes,” Jane sighed, “I’ll try, I’ll try… oooh, I have to go so bad, Patrick, I’ll try…” A little less than ten minutes later, Jane did exactly as promised and drank the 0:00:10 cup, although Patrick had to hold it and place it at her lips while she clamped both hands firmly between her legs. Nine minutes later, they finally had reached the last minute without spilling even a single drop, all of their urine boiling inside their expanded bladders. Both Patrick and Jane were camping beside the closed door, eagerly anticipating the unlocking of the last bolt at 0:00:00. Patrick was clamping his penis firmly, fighting wave after wave, unable to think about anything else beside the enormous amount of pee that was about to come out. Jane’s situation was no better, her fingers digging deep into her crotch, praying to hold on. Despite Patrick’s promises, she felt that the processed contents of the 0:10:00 cup were slowly reaching her already brimming bladder, and she was on the brink of failing. Every drop was a drop too much, pushing against the walls of her bladder, searching for the weakest spot of the vessel, ready to demonstrate Pascal’s principle in action. Her urethral opening was burning, but she somehow kept it in control, for now. The seconds on the LED clock were ticking away, but they were just a haze in Jane’s watery eyes. For confirmation, she laid eyes on Patrick, who was standing right next to the door. Patrick was rocking back and forth, squeezing his penis so hard that he was hurting himself, but he bravely held on. He moaned loudly as the countdown neared his end, and the closer the clock reached 0:00:00, the closer he felt to climaxing, like he was about to get off, but with piss instead of cum. 0:00:03… 0:00:02… 0:00:01… His eyes widened. Clunk. Patrick heard it, he was sure that he heard it, even over the noise of Jane’s heavy breathing. He looked up and saw the number 0:00:00 flashing. He looked at Jane and he saw her smiling. His eyes traveled down Jane’s body, and he noticed that the stress in her fingers was slowly fading. His heart skipped a beat, and with his right hand, he reached for the doorknob, while his eyes kept focusing on Jane’s pubic area. Just before his fingertips brushed the steel object, he observed a small trickle running past Jane’s pubic hair, and his heart skipped another beat. While he folded his hand around the knob, a few drops escaped Jane’s expanding trickle, and in slow-motion, his eyes followed the glistening particles until they landed on the floor, right in between him and Jane. As fast as he could, he tried to pull the door open, and the object moved three or four millimeters towards him. Clunk. Clunk-clunk-clunk-clunk. No matter how hard Patrick tugged the knob towards him, he could not stop the process of the bolts latching again, pulling the door back in its original closed position again. He looked up, watched how the timer was at 5:00:00 again, and felt his knees giving away, realizing that they had failed the challenge again. The moment he let go of his penis, a huge stream started torrenting out of him, and he fell down to his knees, while he kept on pissing like a fire hydrant. “Fuck!”, he screamed loudly, and the sound echoed around the white room. Jane immediately came to the realization of what had just happened, and followed Patrick’s move of dejection, also dropping down on her knees. With her legs spread, the flood between her legs only widened, and pee was splashing loudly on the floor between her knees. Both Jane and Patrick kept on peeing and peeing like there was no end, and soon, there was a huge puddle in between them. Jane was the first one to end, and she froze in position as the last drops escaped her exhausted bladder. “I thought I could… I thought I could…”, she stammered, breathing faster and faster. “I thought I…”, she sputtered again, almost choking on her words, her head starting to feel light. Patrick looked up and immediately noticed the signs of Jane starting to panic, and decided that had to do something. While the last trickles of urine escaped him, he waded through the warm puddle in between them, and grabbed Jane by the shoulders so she wouldn’t fall down. Clueless about what the next steps were to help someone who was hyperventilating, he placed his lips on Jane’s mouth, and started breathing slowly, in the hope that her own breathing would slow down that way. After a few seconds, she pulled away from Patrick, her breathing clearly more under control, and then pressed her mouth against Patrick’s again to continue the process. When Jane had finally calmed down, she let go of Patrick’s lips and pressed her forehead against his. She smiled and looked deep into his eyes, her lips still trembling. Patrick leaned forward and kissed her, and Jane immediately kissed him back. The first kiss was a timid one, but then she ran her tongue over Patrick’s lips, inviting him to their affection to the next level. Fueled by pure lust, Patrick clasped his hands firmly around Jane’s buttocks and pressed himself against her. Their breathing fastened again, and soon, Patrick’s hands were fondling Jane’s body. Jane engaged in the process, grinding against him, her hand traveling down in search of Patrick’s intimate area. But the moment she brushed his penis, Patrick suddenly let go of Jane and backed down entirely. “No… we shouldn’t do this… I don’t want to take advantage of your vulnerable state”, he nervously stammered. “It’s not your fault, Jane, you might be sorry later if we continue, I think it’s best to…” Jane responded by taking his hand, guided his fingers towards her clit, looked him right in the eyes and said: “If you really think that I kissed you back because I feel I owe you something, I don’t care, then you’re so wrong, but I don't care. But please, no matter what you think, finish me off, Patrick, for the love of God.” “Are you sure?”, said Patrick, still in doubt. “Patrick, I don’t know how I can say this another way… I’m horny and I want your fingers inside me, please? Sorry for the explicit language, but you don’t seem to be very good at picking up hints. I’ve been wanting you to touch me for a few days now, but…” “I picked up on your hints,” Patrick confessed, “I just didn’t want to mess anything up between us…” Jane took Patrick’s other hand and laid it on her chest, close to her heart. “We won’t mess up, I promise. I’m… really into you.” Patrick responded by slowly rubbing Jane’s vulva, and he kissed her again. This time, he didn’t flinch when Jane fondled his stiffened member, and a bit of pre-cum appeared at the tip. Patrick let his index finger his finger into Jane, and was amazed how wet she already was. He could easily add another finger into the welcoming hole, and Jane moaned. At the rhythm of Jane stroking his penis, he pleasured her further by pushing his two fingers in and out of her. Jane closed her eyes and encouraged him to continue, while picking up the pace herself. “Oh… oh yes… oh yes… oh…hhh…” After just a few seconds, her body shuddered. This pulled Patrick over the edge himself, and he ejaculated, his cum touching down on her thigh, dripping downwards. “Fuck… that was…”, Jane said, and rested her head against Patrick’s shoulder, without finishing her sentence. “I know”, he simply said as he caressed her hair. “You know we’re standing in a puddle of our pee, right”, said Jane, and she kissed his neck. “Yeah, we should probably go shower”, answered Patrick. “And Jane?” “Mmhh?” “I’m really into you too.” TO BE CONTINUED
Delays on the northern line Anyone who ever travels regularly on the Tube in London knows that it is often crowded, even in supposedly off-peak times and, although it’s getting better, is notorious for delays. In fact since moving to London to a job in marketing travelling on the Tube every day has been the only real downside, as well as the cause of a rather embarrassing incident a couple of months ago. My office is near Leicester Square, about a half hour tube journey on the Northern Line from my flat in Woodside Park, with walking time about a 50 minute journey in all, which is quite good for a London commute. I’ve done this journey for about 18 months now so am used to the usual signal failures, engineering delays and all the other factors that conspire to make the journey more difficult. I also discovered early on that Tube stations don’t have toilets when, early on in the job, I arrived at Leicester Square one morning with a seriously bursting bladder. Fortunately I was able to dash into a nearby coffee shop, but it was a close call. After that I was careful about drinking too much tea or coffee before getting the train, just in case I was caught short again. I soon discovered that there was an office tradition of drinks after work on a Friday evening. Getting home would have been my preference but I had little choice but join in, even though I’m not a great drinker. Since the boss always bought the first drinks it was expected that everyone stayed as long as she did. I always tried to keep to small quantities of usually soft drinks but when the boss gives you a large glass of wine it’s difficult to refuse it and so I often drank more than I really wanted. Fine, except that alcohol makes me pee and although I was always careful to use the Ladies before heading home I was often pretty desperate at the end of my Tubejourney and of course still had a 10 minute walk home. How I always made it without having a bad accident I’ll never know as several times my knickers were quite damp by the time I finally reached my bathroom. There were times on these late evening journeys when I really was not sure of my ability to hold on, especially when the train was delayed for any reason. It can be more than a little nerve wracking to be stuck in a Tube train with a bursting bladder knowing there is absolutely nothing you can do about. I’ve often seen other women obviously desperate as well, sitting with legs tightly crossed, or with restless legs banging their thighs together and wriggling about to help hold it. Others have been standing up, blatantly pee dancing and while I’ve never seen anyone actually have a visible accident in front of me I have seen several women, usually on the station platform but occasionally on the train that had clearly wet themselves at some point. Typically this would be a rather drunken young woman with a group of friends who were now making great fun of her for wetting her jeans or knickers and tights. It made me smile, till I realised that it might have been me in that position. Anyway, I’d seen enough drunken girls wet themselves while at uni that it seemed almost normal. One case was different though and involved a well-dressed woman in her thirties. She had dashed onto the train at Goodge Street looking very flustered and sat a few seats down from me on the opposite side of the unusually empty carriage, immediately squeezing her legs tightly together and fidgeting in a very obvious way. I was pretty sure she was very desperate and when I caught her eye she blushed deeply which rather confirmed it. I half expected her to get off at Euston, where there are toilets in the mainline station but she remained in her seat. I watched her out of the corner of my eye as she continued to wriggle uncomfortably, feeling rather sorry for her in her plight having been The train pulled into East Finchley and I knew there were only eight minutes to my stop. But the train didn’t move. Five minutes passed then came an announcement that we were waiting for a signal problem to be resolved though no time was given. Another five minutes passed, same announcement and still we sat there by which time my need to pee was becoming urgent – it was nearly an hour since I’d last been to the loo and if we didn’t move soon I was going to be in trouble. Another five minutes and finally the train began to move, though very slowly. At Finchley Central we stopped and just waited yet again. By now I was getting frantic, wriggling about and squeezing my thighs together, a picture in my mind of that poor woman who had wet herself near this very station. If we didn’t move soon that woman would be me. I glanced around, realising that the only people in the carriage were a couple of older women dozing at the far end of the car, otherwise I was alone. At least this meant that I could do something I wouldn’t normally do - I slid my hand down the waistband of my skirt to hold myself between my legs such was my desperation by this point. Squeezing myself certainly helped but I soon found that with the pressure my clit I began to get quite turned on and not a little bit wanton. It’s not quite the done thing for a grown woman to be sitting on a Tube train effectively masturbating to stop from wetting herself! In something of a reverie I was not prepared for the sudden jerk as the train re-started and momentarily lost my concentration on controlling my by now very twitchy bladder. Suddenly my knickers felt warm and I clamped down immediately, realising that I had sprung a leak. I’m not sure how I managed to stop myself but with my hand still down my skirt I could feel that the gusset of my knickers and the tops of my thighs were now quite wet and hoped my skirt was still dry. At least I was wearing dark blue so a wet patch would probably not show. Of more concern was whether I was actually going to be able to get off the train before I soaked my seat! Fortunately the train carried on through the next station and a couple of minutes later pulled into my stop. Now I had to get off, which meant not only standing up but removing the hand that was clamped over by quivering pee hole. Disaster beckoned! I was sitting by the doors so waited till they opened then as quick as I could stood up and stepped out onto the platform. As I did so I felt a hot trickle of pee down my thighs and had to stand still momentarily to regain control, realising that a complete loss of control was imminent. There was no way I was going to make it home, certainly not dry as I’d obviously already wet my knickers quite badly. Strangely, give the predicament I was in I felt quite calm, almost resigned to the fact that I was shortly going to have a very embarrassing accident and there was no way I could avoid it. Struggling to contain myself I hobbled towards the exit, dribbling pee down my legs as I continued to leak. The few others who had got off the train at the same time as me had already disappeared and I was now alone on the platform so at least only the CCTV would witness the humiliation of a 24 year old account executive as she publicly emptied her bladder in her knickers and down her legs. Hoping that I could make it past the ticket barrier before the dam burst I hobbled another couple of steps but it was no good – it was going to happen any second. At that point I was standing by one of those metal benches with holes in the seat and realised that I might be better off wetting myself while sitting down rather than soaking my legs. There was no way I could get my skirt out of the way but at least my accident might be less obvious thanks to its dark colour. I quickly plonked my bottom down, for some reason still trying to maintain control, my natural conditioning I expect women as my age don’t normally wee themselves in public. I even pushed my hand back down my skirt and squeezed myself again, amazed at the warmth and wetness of my now soaking pants. Then I lost it. My bladder erupted as if I had just sat on the loo rather than fully clothed on a station seat. A hot flood welled up between my thighs and I quickly opened my legs but too late to save the front of my skirt while hot pee tickled my bottom as it poured through my knickers, tights and skirt before cascading through the seat onto the platform. As I still had my hand down my skirt I peed over that as well, for some reason still squeezing myself to stop the unstoppable. God the relief! I don’t think there had been many times I had needed to go that badly, let alone wet myself, well, in public at any rate. Then, as I sat there dripping, my now throbbing clit sending pins and needles through my lower regions it happened – I had an orgasm! I’m not sure how long it was before I came back to reality, hopefully not too long but as I did I quickly pulled my hand out from under my skirt and looking around saw that I was thankfully still alone. I must have looked a sight, surrounded by a puddle of pee my skirt and underwear soaking wet and with a face flushed with both embarrassment and post-orgasmic glow. But now I had to get out of the station before anyone came or the next train arrived so taking a deep breath I stood up and with my wet skirt clinging to my legs and bottom and the novel feeling of warm wet knickers and tights walked, or rather waddled to the exit, terrified I might meet somebody. Fortunately the only person at the barrier was a female ticket collector who noticing my soggy state simply smiled and said, “I see you had a good evening luv!” as I walked through. The streets were almost deserted and quite poorly lit so I don’t think anyone else saw the state I was in and I was soon in the safety of my flat and could survey the damage. The whole back of my skirt was soaked and there was a further large wet area on the front and though the dark blue hid the worst of it the wetness was still visible to anyone who might have given me more than a cursory glance. Removing the skirt, I dropped it into the bath and ran some water to rinse it out a little. With my jacket off I now stood in just my blouse bra and wet underwear and looking at myself in the full-length mirror saw that there was hardly a dry spot on my knickers; the whole seat and front were wet while the wet streaks on my tights reached below my knees. I couldn’t believe just how wet I was as till now I’d never had an accident that resulted in much more than a wet knicker gusset. Fascinated by what I’d done I ran my had over my bottom and over my thighs, then between my legs, flushing as I recalled the way I had had an orgasm as I peed myself. I had sometimes almost made myself come at other times when rubbing to hold a full bladder but on those occasions had dashed to the loo at the last minute and then finished off the deed afterwards, afraid I might wet myself when I came. Suddenly, a link between a full bladder, which is something I quite enjoyed in private and sexual pleasure became clear, I’d just never let it get to the point of coming and wetting, certainly not wetting, though I had come close sometimes such as masturbating with a full bladder in bed in the morning to avoid getting up. Afraid of a wet bed I’d always stopped before an accident, though subconsciously I think I missed the relief it might have given. I squeezed myself again, realising that I rather liked the feeling of wet knickers on my most sensitive parts. I also needed to pee again so, throwing a towel on the floor frantically rubbed myself and deliberately peed myself again, further soaking by pants and tights, hot pee coursing down my legs as I had another very satisfying orgasm. Coming back to reality I stripped off my wet things and threw them and my skirt into the washing machine before showering and heading for bed. I slept like a log, waking about eight the following morning, relaxed but again dying for a pee. As I held myself I thought about last night’s events, continuing to caress myself as I did so till I a spasm in my overfull bladder sent a hot trickle of wee into silky pyjamas. Quickly jumping out of bed I dashed into the bathroom, wee running down my leg as I did so and simply sitting down on the toilet, pyjamas still on and wetting myself yet again. A quick rub and ecstasy overwhelmed me once more. What a discovery I had made. I have to admit that I have repeated the experiment several times since, though always in private as I’d rather not suffer the horrors of wetting myself in public again, at least not yet. That’s not to say that I haven’t come uncomfortably close to another public accident - I only just made it in time last Friday evening after more Tube delays. My knickers were already quite wet when I reached home and I simply finished off the job sat on the loo with them still on, pleasuring myself as I did so. My bed also has a waterproof mattress cover now but it hasn’t yet been put to the test. Telling this story though has made me rather ‘itchy’ so who knows what will happen tomorrow morning.
I am a huge fan of mythology, particularly Greek. So, I decided to write a story where some of the ancient Greek goddesses are desperate to urinate. There is a little talk of sex and obviously urine in this story. So do not read if you are uncomfortable. Hope you enjoy! 🙂 PS, this was a time before underwear was invented, so for story purposes, all of the characters in this story will be going commando. Enjoy! Athena charged through the halls, her strong hands pressed tightly below her war skirt. Athena was simply overcome with joy that no one was around to witness her dilemma. The wisdom goddess would simply be humiliated beyond belief if anyone saw her like this. Athena also knew that several of the gods would like to see her like this! Particularly gods like Hephestus, who she knew was deeply in love with her. There were also her rivals like Poseidon, Ares, and Aphrodite who would all get their sick kicks from seeing Athena like this. But no one was around now, and Athena was relieved. Speaking of relief… The wisdom goddess’ sandals slapped the floor repetitively as her strong yet shaky legs led her closer and closer to the restrooms of Mount Olympus. As she ran, Athena cursed herself. She is the wisdom goddess! Why on earth did she have so many drinks! She blamed Dionysus! The guy threw such excellent parties that even the most strict, work oriented gods could not help but relax. Athena had over two barrels of wine. That would kill a mortal! But Athena was a divine goddess. She was above the mortals. Their rules of living did not apply to her. Likewise, it is the only reason Athena has managed to contain this much alcohol for so long. Athena - being an immortal, all powerful Greek goddess - was able to hold back tremendous amounts of liquid. The gods - while they do urinate like mortals - are able to hold nearly one thousand times as much and for a thousand times as long. With that said, even gods do have their limits, just as the mortals do. And Athena was nearing hers. Not only did these two barrels of wine make Athena’s bladder ache with desperation, however, the wisdom goddess has not visited the facilities in over two weeks. Athena has been far too busy leading her armies to victory and giving men wisdom when they needed it the most. Last night, Athena had been ready to use the washroom, but she heard from Hermes that the hero, Perseus, was in dire need of assistance. Perseus was on a quest to slay the monster, Medusa, the very monster Athena, herself created. Perseus had the location of the gorgon’s lair as well as a magical sack to stuff her head in and winged shoes (both gifts of Hermes). Athena had decided to put her bladder’s needs aside and she went down to earth to give the hero a hand in his journey. Athena presented Perseus with a sharp sword to slice off Medusa’s head as well as a crystal clear shield to look at Medusa in, as a way of not looking at the monster directly. After Athena and Perseus parted ways and Athena returned home, she was too exhausted to use the restroom and instead went to bed. In the morning, Athena’s urge was worse than it has been in centuries! The wisdom goddess could not remember the last time she strayed so far from a restroom visit. But, she reluctantly did her daily work and in the evening, attended Dionysus’ celebration. At long last, Athena spotted the restroom. But the sight that awaited Athena made the wisdom goddess ready to break down into tears. Before the doorway to the goddess’ room, there was a long line. Standing in front of the line was Hera. Hera kept her legs tightly crossed and was bent over with her back erect. Hera kept one hand wedged far up her dress and she used the other to relentlessly bang on the bathroom door. Next in line was Aphrodite. Aphrodite was busy dancing all over the place. The love goddess kept her knee together and was constantly bouncing on her heels. She was grabbing herself, but she looked like she desperately wanted to. Behind Aphrodite was Demeter. The desperate goddess of agriculture kept her scythe wedged between her legs as a way to hold, and was constantly bouncing up and down. How Demeter didn’t stab herself with her own weapon, Athena had no idea. Behind Demeter was Artemis. Artemis kept her legs crossed and was shuffling from foot to foot. Artemis grabbed at the crotch of her robes rather often, the silver charms on her wrists clattering as she moved her hand around. The quiver of arrows on the moon goddess’ back were quite literally quivering from all of her movements. Behind Artemis was Hestia. The goddess of the hearth was kneeling on the floor, her hands wedged so far into her robes, they appeared to have vanished. Hestia’s eyes were shut and tears were streaming down her face. Her whole body trembled from the pain of a full bladder. The final goddess in line was Persephone. The flower goddess kept her legs crossed and her toes pointed outwards. Her hands were busy fiddling with a necklace of pomegranate seeds around her neck as a way to distract herself from her urgent need of release. Athena took her place in line behind Persephone. Six other goddesses were in line! Six? Athena was number seventh to relieve herself? But from the looks of things, all of these other goddesses were in similar situations to Athena. Given how large and strong a god’s bladder is, it was rare to see one desperate god in any given place. Let alone seven! “What is the hold up?” Athena snapped, bouncing like a ball. “I must attend to my biological needs!” “Yeah,” Persephone growled, tapping her toes against the floor. “We all do!” “Eris is in there,” Demeter glanced back at Athena. “She is all pissed that we didn’t invite her to this party and so she sealed herself in the bathroom so we can’t get in.” This was one of the stupidest things Athena has ever heard of. And she has Ares for a brother! “This is not our party, it is Dionysus’,” Athena snapped. “He refused to invite her and truthfully, I do not blame him in the slightest!” “Okay, Eris, you made your point,” Hera banged on the door harder. “Now let us in!” No response. Eris was so petty! Athena would not be surprised if someday Eris decided to start a war in retaliation for being excluded from events like this. “OPEN UP ERIS!” Hera bellowed, rambing on the door with her fist. “There are no other bathrooms available?” Athena snapped. “Poseidon got upset about something earlier,” Aphrodite explained. “And he accidentally caused all of the other bathrooms to flood.” Of course he did! Athena would kill that sea god later. Right now… She needed to pee! “Wait a moment,” Athena said. “We are goddesses! We have powers! Why not just bust in?” “Hephestus made these walls and these doors so indestructible that they don’t even break under the influence of our powers,” Hera explained. “And a good thing too,” Artemis admitted. “Imagine if the gods could destroy these walls? Mount Olympus would go down so fast!” Athena knew she was right. If the gods had the ability to destroy Mount Olympus… They would. Not intentionally, of course. But the gods as a race have a tendency to be quite destructive, even when they don’t mean to be. Hestia continued to sob loudly on the floor, squeezing herself and grunting. “Guys… I can’t hold much longer…” Hestia moaned. “I have a tiny bladder…” “Yeah, but you mean a tiny bladder for a god right?” Artemis marched in place while gripping her nether regions. “Well… Yeah…” Hestia said. “So, your bladder is smaller than the rest of us, sure, but it is still larger than mortals!” Artemis pointed out. “It will be okay.” “Just try and keep holding, Hestia,” Demeter encouraged her sister. “GET OUT ERIS!” Hera hammered on the door. “THERE ARE ABOUT TO BE ACCIDENTS OUT HERE!” Hestia sobbed. “I… I can’t last much longer…” Something suddenly clicked into Athena’s mind. “Why are you guys so desperate to go anyway? We have godly bladders! Why the urgency?” “Same as you,” Aphrodite replied. “None of us have pissed in days! I was too busy jumping around from lover to lover.” “Gross,” Artemis made a gagging noise. “No one wants to hear that!” “Well, unlike you Aphrodite,” Demeter scowled. “I have been doing some real work! The crops don’t grow themselves you know!” “And I’ve been busy hunting with my girls in the wilderness,” Artemis said. “We took down many beasts.” “I have been so busy giving countless heroes wisdom, I have forsaken my bladder for quite some time,” Athena mentioned. “Same,” Persephone moaned, holding one leg up to her crotch. “Queen of the Underworld is a full time job, you know.” “Are you still with Death Breath?” Demeter mocked, ahead in line. “Mother!” Persephone wailed. “His name is Hades! And he is the god I love! He treats me well!” “Blah, blah, blah,” Demeter used her hand to indicate her daughter was speaking too much by rapidly moving her fingers up and down from her thumb. Persephone rolled her eyes. “Whatever, I am far too desperate to argue with you right now. Speaking of, mind if I cut in line? It is getting extra urgent!” “No!” Aphrodite snapped. “Wait your turn,” Artemis growled. “And anyway,” Demeter said. “If anyone has a right to cut in line, it is Hestia!” But Hestia being so kind and sweet, even while shaking and sweating, she shook her head and simply said, “No, I’m okay. I can wait… I think… I hope… Maybe not… I have to go…” “Just try and hold a little bit longer, Hestia,” Artemis moaned. “ERIS, GET OUT!!” Hera bellowed, her fist a blur of light as it smashed against the marble door at full force. “AS YOUR QUEEN AND YOUR MOTHER, I COMMAND YOU TO OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW YOUNG LADY!!!” Hera’s voice was so loud that it rocketed across the halls of Olympus. Hera’s booming queenly roar was so powerful that it sent shockwaves into the bladders of all the desperate goddesses. “Move,” Aphrodite angrily pushed Hera aside and began lightly knocking on the door. “Eris,” Aphrodite shifted her weight, her hand wedged in between her thighs. Aphrodite’s dress was lifted up, showing the goddesses behind her, her lovely buttocks. But knowing Aphrodite, she wouldn’t have been all that upset with this outcome. “Eris,” Aphrodite moaned again. “If you come out and let us in, I shall present you with the most handsome man in all of Greece!” “That is never going to…” Hera began. The door cracked open ever so slightly. The face of discord was hidden underneath its shadows. “How handsome?” Eris asked. “The handsomest lad you have ever laid your eyes upon,” Aphrodite promised. Eris stared to the ground, thinking long and hard. She finally looked up and replied, “I don’t do serious relationships, men have a tendency to hate me.” “Okay, a one-time fling! I can do that!” Aphrodite said. “Nah, I was thinking more… A friend with benefits,” Eris said. “Done and done,” Aphrodite said, waddling in place, hands pressed as far up against her vulva as they could go. “But make him assertive,” Eris said. “I don’t do push overs either.” “Assertive friend with benefits,” Aphrodite said through grit teeth. “Anything else?” Eris thought. “I want him to be into strange stuff. Normal sex is boring to me.” “Assertive friend with benefits, strange sex stuff,” Aphrodite let out a desperate wail as she fought down the strongest wave of desperation yet. “Anything else?” Eris though. “I think that should about do it. Oh, and make sure he hates you guys as much as I do!” “Yes, yes, and yes!” Aphrodite wailed. “Now MOVE!!!” “Come on, Eris,” Artemis moaned. “Get out of the way!” Persephone cried. “I’m going to pee!” Demeter shouted. “Leave now, Eris, please…” Athena begged. “Fine,” Eris flew the door open and walked off. Hera faced Aphrodite, bewilderment across her face. “Seriously?” Aphrodite shrugged. “The power of love… Or in this case meaningless sex… Conquers all!” “And you couldn’t have done that half an hour ago!” Hera snapped. “WHO CARES! LET US PEE!” Artemis shouted. Hera and Aphrodite, still facing one another, turned and shoved past one another, crawling over each other, clawing at each other’s side, fighting and fighting to be the first one into the open bathroom. “It is because of me that Eris came out,” Aphrodite snapped. “I don’t care!” Hera shouted. “I have to pee! Besides, I was here first!” “Too bad, so sad!” The love goddess retorted. Eventually, Aphrodite pushed past Hera and slammed the door shut. “Damn it, Aphrodite!” Hera wailed, returning her hands to their position in between her legs. Hera bounced and squirmed, her swollen bladder hurt against her ribs. Hera wanted to destroy something. How dare Eris keep them waiting for so long! How dare Aphrodite cut in front of her in line! She was the queen of Olympus. Did no one care about her bladder’s needs? The downside to having godly bladders, was that the gods and goddesses had a tendency to take extra-long bathroom breaks. Especially if they have been holding for a long time. That is why gods take few bathroom breaks in the first place! Gods know that their bladders are extra-large and that makes them pee for a long time. So, gods will often put it off, so they don’t have to abandon their work for several minutes. But again, the problem there is the longer they wait, the longer they pee. The good news was that the original problem was solved, and Eris was now out of the rest room. The bad news, however, was that their situation was only half over. The goddesses all knew full well that this line would move extra slowly. And given how long the goddesses have waited to pee, they may be stuck in this line for hours while each and every one of them takes their turn at draining her massive bladder. And they were right to be worried. Ten long minutes passed by and still no Aphrodite. Hera ramed on the door again. “Hey, Aphrodite! Get out! You fall in?” “I’ve been holding since last week!” Aphrodite shouted from the other side of the door. “And I’ve been holding for two!” Athena snapped. “And here I am at the back of the line with gallons and gallons of water, wine, beer, and milk all swirling inside. Now get out, Love Girl!” “Please…” Hestia moaned on the floor. “I’m gonna need a few,” Aphrodite said. “Keep your toga on out there!” “We have already given you ten!” Demeter snapped. “Ten long minutes! Now get out!” “And our togas need to come off right now so we can piss!” Artemis shouted. Artemis squatted down slightly, pressed her knees closer together. “Times like this, I wish I was mortal,” Artemis moaned. The others looked at the moon goddess in supreme confusion. “The mortals have tiny bladders…” Hera said. “Even smaller than Hestia, sorry Hestia… Why would you wish to be one of them?” “While it is true the mortals have tiny bladders,” Artemis explained. “Mortals have public latrines. They have long benches with holes in them. These places are so large that they allow a great number of mortals to alleviate their needs.” “Really?” Hera asked in shock. “How many is a great number?” Demeter wondered. “Usually about twenty some mortals,” Artemis said. The other goddesses gasped and awed at the moon goddess’ words. As the goddess of the hunt, Artemis spent more time on earth than pretty much any other god or goddess. So naturally, Artemis knew things about the mortal world that the other goddesses didn’t. “Why don’t we have that?” Athena demanded. “Well, the thing with public latrines is,” Artemis went on. “Well… They are public! This is absolutely no privacy. Everyone will watch you pee and or defecate. Public latrines are used by the general public. That is to say, royalty like kings, queens, princes, and princesses have private toilet chambers inside their home. The public latrine is for the public to use.” “Well, we gods are the utmost royalty!” Athena said. The others all muttered in agreement. “Plus, I can’t pee with others watching. Not even my husband,” Persephone crossed her legs in front of her, and in doing so almost fell over. She managed to steady her footing. “I have a ridiculously shy bladder,” the queen of the underworld stated. “I’m sure you could pee in front of me,” Demeter said, bending over and squeezed her knees with her fists. “I am your mother.” “I can’t go in front of anyone! That includes you!” Persephone cried. Demeter looked ready to argue. Hestia jumped in and quickly said, “May we please not talk about this…” Hestia rolled her legs over so she was sitting entirely on the ground. Hestia hugged her knees to her crotch. The goddess of the hearth was sweating bullets. Hestia’s face resembled a gladiator. It was all twisted and sweaty as if she had just finished running a mile or fighting a giant. “Hestia is correct,” Athena grabbed herself under her skirt, not caring who saw. “Talking about this will only make our current need worsen.” And so silence fell over the goddess bathroom line. Soon, the queen of Olympus once again lost her patience and began banging on the door, shouting at the love goddess to exit so she may enter. A moment later, the door opened. And there stood Aphrodite. Aphrodite smiled sweetly, looking a whole lot healer than when she had entered the bathroom. Aphrodite looked relieved and at peace with the world. Athena noticed something else. “Aphrodite… were you wearing make-up before entering the restroom?” “Huh? Oh, no,” the love goddess replied. “I applied it while I was there.” “YOU SPENT TIME ON YOUR MAKE-UP WHILE WE WERE BURSTING TO PISS!!!” Hera bellowed with absolute rage. “I also did my hair,” Aphrodite flipped her strawberry blonde hair. “You ladies like?” Hera’s face was twisted in rage. Hera chewed her lip, her eyes large, her features bent and out of shape. Hera kept her hands in her crotch and kept stumbling around as if she were a drunk mortal. Hera bellowed a fit of curses at Aphrodite for keeping them waiting while she did her hair and make-up. “Hera! Just please pee and be done with it!” Hestia shouted, desperation creeping along the edges of the hearth goddess’ voice. Hestia is by far the most peaceful of the Olympians. Hearing Hestia yell is as rare as a blue moon. But that just means when Hestia does yell, the rest of the gods take her seriously. Hera eyed her elder sister with sorrow. Hera may have a temper, but she, just like everyone else, hated seeing Hestia unhappy. Hera was almost tempted to let Hestia cut in front of her, but Hera would not give the satisfaction to Hestia nor anyone else of knowing she would put them above herself. Hera was a queen after all! She had to act like it! Hera instead simply eyed Aphrodite with a ‘I’ll deal with you later’ look, Hera then faced the open bathroom, shouted, “Time to take a piss fit for a queen!” And Hera charged into the bathroom, slamming the metal door behind her. Aphrodite smiled at the others, wished them luck, and then walked off. Artemis looked behind her shoulder at a struggling Hestia. “You can cut in front of me, Hestia,” Artemis said. “I can wait.” “Yeah, me too,” Demeter said. But once again, the kind hearth goddess would not disadvantage others for her own needs. “I am okay,” Hestia lied. “Trust me, I can wait.” “I’m not sure if you can,” Artemis admitted, eyeing Hestia struggling. “You can cut, Hestia, it is okay, really.” “No, no, I shall wait my turn,” Hestia said. Hestia said this, but the fullness inside her bladder was saying otherwise. Hestia felt her sphincter fail her, just for a split second. Hestia felt warmth roll down her legs and soak the insides of her robes. Moaning, Hestia squeezed herself extra tightly. She would not like her family to know how urgent her need truly was. Hestia was all about family. Family always has, did, and always will come first in her mind. If anything, Hestia should step out of line and allow Persephone and Athena to take their much needed relief before her. And any other day, Hestia would have as well. But truthfully, Hestia may not make it until Demeter and artemis are done, let alone Persephone and Athena too. But she had to try. But Hestai felt her tiny bladder shrivel. Her sphincter had grown tired in the days Hestia refused to empty her bladder. Hestia felt as if her urinary sphincter was the titan Atlas, forced to hold up the entire weight of the sky and keep it from crushing the world. For the first time since Atlas was punished in the events following the Titanomachy - war between the gods and the titans - Hestia had sympathy for poor Atlas. Was this how the poor titan always felt? Having to hold up the pressure of the entire sky single handedly, knowing if he faulted, even for a second, he would be the first to be crushed under the sky’s massive weight. This realization was enough to almost make Hestia want to free the titan from his imprisonment. But she also knew how sinister he was. He had served as her father, Kronos’ right hand man in the war. Hestia suddenly had another thought… Kronos, her father… He ate his children. As soon as they were born, Kronos ingested Hestia along with her sisters, Demeter and Hera as well as her brothers, Hades and Poseidon. (Zeus got away, but that’s another story). But Hestia suddenly realized… When a mother is expecting her child, she has to pee a lot and very urgently. Did Hestia’s father go through the same thing? Having five godly children inside his stomach surely had its consequences. Maybe Kronos developed bladder problems in that time. The stomach may be relatively far away from the bladder, but having five gods press down on your stomach may have also affected other organs like the intestines, lungs… The bladder. Hestia silently cursed herself. Here she was yelling at her family for talking about the restroom, and she was doing the exact same. Hestia just needed to relax and try to focus on something else. Yet, no matter where the hearth goddess’ mind went, her thoughts always returned to her bladder. Hera sure was taking her sweet time in the goddess’ room. Aside from poor small bladdered Hestia, Artemis had it the far worse. Artemis would not tell the others about this - partly due to the fact it was unladylike to speak of her urge but also, she did not want them thinking she was weak - but the fact of the matter was, Artemis was holding more liquids than any other goddess in this line. Just last week, Artemis’ hunters asked the moon goddess to engage in a water drinking contest with them. Artemis was happy to comply. Artemis originally assumed it would be a contest where they all drank at once. But she came to learn that it would be one on one. The winner of each contest would go on and challenge another hunter until they won. And so, Artemis - being an all powerful goddess - was easily able to drink more than any other hunter in her ranks. Artemis gulped down an entire barrel of water before her competitors were even able to take a sip. And after Artemis beat each huntress, she challenged another and another and another. Artemis - having won the contest - was forced to drink against each hunter. Needless to say, she became desperate for relief quickly. Artemis spent the next week always trying, but failing to take that relief. It was always something! A huntress needed her, a monster attacked, a woman claimed her children were more attractive than her and her brother… Being the goddess of the hunt and moon is a lot of work! Artemis did not have time to engage in a silly thing like relieve her bladder. Artemis has always found that very concept ridiculous! Especially for a goddess! She should have no need to alleviate herself like the mortals do. It is a waste of time! When Prometheus sculpted humans, he clearly gave them a lot of strange features. Like a need to pee. Why not allow them to use all the liquid they drink? Wouldn't that have been more efficient? No wonder Zeus chained up Prometheus with an eagle to peek out his liver once daily. Bottom line, Artemis has drunk down several barrels of water and has not peed in a week! While peeing may be a ridiculous concept, it is currently a very urgent one to Artemis. How artemis regreted coming to this party! But she knew she had to. Dionysus threw this party in the first place to cheer up his wife, Ariadna. It has been five years today that Ariadna’s first love, Theseus broke up with her and abandoned her on a deserted island. Artemis had become good friends with Ariadna and wanted to help cheer her up. Still, Artemis wished she had the chance to pee before returning to Olympus. Hera has been busy in the restroom for a long time now. Again, not uncommon for a god to take an extended period of time in the restroom after a long hold and many drinks. But having to wait on the opposite side of the door was infuriating! “How long has she been in there?’ Demeter stood on one leg, the other laced tightly around the first. “I don’t know,” Athena bent over, grabbing at her lady parts with all of her might. “If she is doing her make-up too, I am going to kill her!” Persephone snapped. “You can’t kill a goddess,” Athena warned. “Especially the queen of Olympus.” “A figure of speech, Owl Head,” Persephone shot back. “Watch it, Pomegranate Seed!” Athena countered. “Oh, go turn a girl into a spider!” Persephone snapped. “She had it coming, she challenged me!” “I know, no one should ever challenge Granny to a knitting contest!” Athena’s mouth dropped, anger bubbling on her skit. “It was a waving content!” “What in Tartarus’ name is the difference?” The queen of the underworld spat. “Well, at least I don’t eat the first piece of food I see! Especially in the underworld! Have you no control?” “Have you no husband?” Athena leapt back in alarm. “That is a personal choice! And if I did have a husband, I certainly would not settle for the king of the dead!” “Told you,” Demeter called from the front of the line. “Hades treats me well,” Persephone snapped. “The guy quite literally bent the laws of nature and grew flowers in the underworld just for me!” “Oh…” Athena began her retaliation, but Hestia jumped in once more. “Please stop you guys,” Hestia cried. “I am in so much pain! My bladder feels like it is about to burst! I do not wish to listen to your fighting along with that!” “Sorry, Hestia,” Athena apologized. “Yeah, sorry,” Persephone agreed. Demeter reached down and squeezed herself, causing her grass colored dress to bunch up under her. “I desperately need to water the crops, if you know what I mean,” Demeter managed. “Yeah, we all do,” Athena hissed. “Come on, Hera…” Hestia moaned, tears flooding her eyes as her hands grew tired at her genitalia and her knees trembled with numbness. Moments passed. Still no Hera. Demeter leaned on her scythe, her hands wedged in between her thighs. Demeter swayed on her feet similar to a flower in the breeze. Artemis was leaning her back against the wall while keeping her hands firmly under her skirt. Artemis’ legs trembled as if they could no longer hold her weight. Hestia lay in a fetal position on the ground, hands deep in crotch, moaning and sobbing from extreme pain. Persephone had abandoned trying to distract herself with her necklace and was now simply grabbing hold of herself while hopping front foot to foot, keeping her knees closed tightly together. Athena, meanwhile, had her legs wrapped with her toes pointed to the sky. Athena held her hands on the top of her legs, and squeezed her eyes shut, attempting to visualize herself somewhere else. Finally, Artemis began tapping her foot against the ground at a rapid pace. She kept her arms to her side, holding herself with just her sphincter muscles. Athemis’ breathing was heavy. Artemis drank way too much water and she felt the first trickle make its way out. Artemis was well aware of a little bit of her pee rolling down her legs and falling to the marble floor. “I can’t take this anymore!” Artemis’ hands shot into her crotch and she turned and began waddling away. “Where are you going?” Athena demanded. “Down to earth!” Artemis shouted. “Why?” Persephone demanded. “Why do you think? To pee!” Artemis cried. The goddesses still looked confused. “I am going to the forest to pee in nature!” Artemis shouted. The others looked disgusted. “Have you no shame?” Athena cried. “My shame is this close to rolling down my leg!” Artemis held up a finger and thumb only centimeters away. “Anyone care to join me? Hestia? You look desperate.” “I…” Hestia noticed the other goddesses staring at her. Under normal circumstances, Hestia would have gladly taken this offer. But she again feared what her family would think. ‘“I’m okay here,” Hestia promised. “Fine,” before the group of desperate goddesses, Artemis shapeshifted into a bright blue eagle. The blue eagle took flight and flew off of Olympus, down to the mortal world to get her huntress’ bursting bladder some relief. A few moments after Artemis fled, the bathroom door opened, and Demeter went rushing in. “I have to piss like a mule on the racetrack!” Demeter wailed, slamming the door. “Took you long enough,” Athena snapped. “Don’t push me Weavier,” Hera warned. “Where is Artemis?’ “Went down to earth to pee,” Persephone caught Hera up. “That is disgusting!” Hera bellowed. “What is wrong with her?” “She had to pee, and Artemis - unlike us - is outdoorsy. I’ll bet she does this all the time,” Hestia told the others, excusing Artemis’ actions. Hera just rolled her eyes and left. “And then there were three,” Persephone narrated. Persephone was correct. While Demeter took her relief, this left three ancient Greek goddesses outside the door, struggling to stay dry. Hestia sat in front of the door, desperately staring at it like a puppy waiting to be let out. Hestia sat upright with her knees to her chest and her body shaking with urge. Persephone stood directly behind Hestia. Persephone spent her desperate moments crossing her legs in front of each other and moving them back. Persephone’s legs took turns being the dominant leg to hold back the ever growing flood inside the queen on the underworld’s bladder. This left Athena at the end of the line grabbing at herself and bunching up her scarlet war skirt. “Damn, I need to piss…” Persephone said under her breath. “Come on, Demeter,” Hestia whimpered, begging the door to open as she rocked back and forth on her butt. Hestia refused to acknowledge the bulge that was rapidly growing from her stomach. Hetsia’s bladder was bulged out so far, she had no idea how she could possibly stand back up. Hestia’s whole body hurt. Her bladder quaked with anticipation, knowing she was next in line to empty herself. Hestia knew the upcoming relief would feel so good! just thinking about it caused another squirt to exit Hestia’s pee hole and dampen the insides of her robes once more. Hestia could no longer wait! She felt herself on the edge. Hestia just needed to pee. Was that too much to ask! Hestia’s body wanted her to pee, however. And her immortal body would accomplish this task with or without Hestia’s input on the matter. Hestia felt a sharp squirt escape. She cursed in ancient Greek, something she only does under extreme situations. Hestia managed to shut off her stream. But another erupted from her. Hestia felt her robes get soaked as hot liquid forced its way out of her supposedly all powerful sphincter. The next thing Hestia knew, she was sitting on the floor, so close to relief, and her bladder was draining. Hestia held her head in her lap and wailed in misery, humiliation, and pain. Hestia’s bladder slowly deflated from her belly. Hestia moaned. Hestia began bawling as her godly bladder involuntarily drained. “Oh, Hestia,” Persephone said, concern in her voice. Just like it takes gods several minutes to relieve themselves in the restroom, the same can be said for involuntary wetting themselves. Although, to be fair, it was incredibly rare for a god to wet themselves. Their bladders were extra powerful. But even gods have limits. And Hestia’s bladder went far past that limit. The thing was, not only are gods and goddesses’ bladders able to last a long time without being drained, they can hold a lot of golden liquid! Even the smaller bladdered gods like Hestia. Hestia’s bladder may be tiny compared to the rest of Olympus, but it was still ten times the size of any mortal bladder on earth. Hestia was able to hold a massive amount of liquids at bay. But after a certain point, even godly bladders give out. And Hestia’s just did. Hestia involuntarily lost the gallons of liquid waste her bladder had been storing. And all those gallons of urine soaked straight through Hestia’s robes and made their new home on the marble floor of Olympus. Hestia’s puddle grew at an alarming rate. After only a few seconds of hiss, the puddle was already twenty feet wide and increasing in size as well as depth. To make this situation even worse, Athena and Persephone were forced to watch as Hestia’s white robes grew darker and darker. The puddle below Hestia grew outwards from her, extending far past the epicenter of Hestia’s leak. This was particularly worse for Persephone who ended up getting the blunt of Hestia’s urine attack. Persephone’s feet were soaked in Hestia’s warm liquids. Persephone noticed that Hestia’s urine was burning hot. The puddle was like standing in fire. That did make sense given the fact Hestia was the goddess of fire places! Still, Hestia’s piss was hot! Persephone hoped she didn’t have an infection from holding so long. (If gods can even get those!) Persephone chose a bad day to go barefoot! Persephone and Athena quickly backed up, allowing the puddle around Hestia to grow to rapid size as Hestia’s godly bladder had enough and emptied all over the place. Persephone hated watching Hestia pee. Not only was it heartbreaking to see such an awful fate befall such a kind goddess. But moreover, listening to that hiss, standing so close to the explosion of urine, it triggered a need deep inside Persephone. Persephone’s urge had been great before. But now, it was unbearable! Just watching Hestia pee herself made Persephone want to. Persephone remembered all of that pomegranate juice she drank earlier. Liters upon liters of it. Persephone drank so much juice and her kidneys had finished fileting it all days ago! Persephone’s juice/urine had been stored comfortably in her bladder for several days. But now, the urge was no longer comfortable. It was urgent! Persephone’s bladder needed to let all of that juice escape! Persephone crossed her legs and doubled over. She had to pull it together. She didn’t want to make Hestia feel worse and know what awful effects her explosion of pee created for her comrades. Persephone felt a large bang of urine smash against her sphincter. Persephone’s sphincter rattled worse than Cerberus when his three heads got into a fight. Persephone felt all the pressure inside her bladder move downwards to her vagina area. Persephone wasn’t going to leak yet, but she was extra close. She no longer even felt the pressure in her pelvis. She felt it entirely in her vagina. She hoped that was normal and not a sign of something worse. (Again, gods probably can’t get infections like humans can… Probably… Persephone might want to see Apollo (god of healing) later just to be sure). Hestia sat there for what felt like an eternity and just peed. The hearth goddess had tried a few times to stop her flow. She was peeing for so long that surely she could manage to stop herself from going farther. But sadly, her sphincter was just too weak. As was her bladder and her urethra. Hestia could not hold again for the immortal life of her! Eventually, the bathroom door opened and the grain goddess emerged. Demeter’s face fell upon seeing her older sister soak her robes. “Oh, Hestia,” Demeter said in a muted tone. “Are you okay?” Demeter bent down to check on her sister who just sat there weeping and urinating. Persephone, hand sin crotch, looked back at Athena. “I… Umm… I’m gonna pee…” “Yeah, go,” Athena moaned. “Take care of her,” Persephone asked, eyeing Hestia. Athena nodded. She gave Persephone a look that told her she was sorry for their earlier argument. Persephone responded with the exact same look. Persephone waded through Hestia’s massive puddle. Persephone hated to do it. Especially barefoot. But it was the only way to the bathroom which the queen of the underworld needed more than ever right now! And so, Persephone pushed on and immersed her lower half into Hestia’s flood. Persephone’s feet were soaked in Hestia’s puddle. Hestia’s godly bladder peed so much, that Persephone quite literally kicked up tiny waves of urine. Hestia's puddle splashed and sloshed all over the floor. It was an actual flood! And Hestia’s bladder still had more to drain. After finally making it across Hestia’s small golden ocean, Persephone’s feet were soaked and the bottom of her dress was doused in wet, warm pee. Legs stitched together, Persephone then stepped into the washroom and closed the door. Hestia finished peeing herself a moment later. Athena noted that Hestia’s pee was the color of nectar, the drink of the gods. And judging from the odor, this was indeed a nectar pee. Demeter had the same thoughts. “Too much nectar is all,’ Demeter said sweetly, helping Hestia to her feet. Hestia was still tearing up. She had stopped sweating and her bladder bulge was gone. But her robes were ruined as was her dignity. “You should have gone before me,” Demeter said. Hestia just sniveled in response. “But I get it,” Demeter went on. “You were just being a good big sister. And now it’s my turn to be a good younger sister,” Demeter firmly placed her arm around Hestia. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” Demeter said. “Do not worry about the mess. I shall ask the cyclopes to clean this mess up.” “Hey, Hestia,” Athena said. Hestia slowly looked up. Her face was red with humiliation. “Don’t be embarrassed,” Athena said. “These things happen.” The truth was, had this been anyone else, Athena would be the first to snap at them and tell them how disgusting they were no matter how desperate they had been. And Athena and Hestia both knew this. But no one can possibly judge or make fun of Hestia. And Athena was no exception. Hestia just nodded weakly and then allowed herself to be escorted away by Demeter. This left Athena, the only goddess left, still craving to place her backside down on the nearest toilet. Athena subconsciously ran her hands over her swollen bladder. Athena’s bladder was extended our farther than she had ever seen it in all her years. Athena had to take off her armor. The damned stuff was pressing down on her bladder. Athena left her armor in a pile besides Hestia’s puddle. Athena hoped Persephone would be out soon, or else there may be a second puddle here as well. No! Athena refused to let that happen. She would not pee herself! She was a goddess, a full grown goddess! She could hold it in! Still, her bladder was rather large and hard right now. Athena made a fist and rapped on the door. “Hey, Persephone, almost done in there?’ She called. “Not even close!” Persephone’s voice sounded mitigated and soothed. And Athena could guess why. Looks like it would still be quite a wait. But Athena could do this, she could hold back. It was simply mind over matter. Athena was literally the goddess of wisdom! She specialized in matters of the mind. Athena just had to refuse to acknowledge her bladder’s dangerous condition. But try as she might to ignore her growing urge, she could no longer refuse to recognize the painful pressurization of her bladder. Her sphincter felt as if it was being attacked by a chimera! It was as if Typhon himself was squeezing the life out of the goddess’ weak sphincter muscle. Athena was a war goddess after all! And right now, she was at a war with her bladder and she feared it was a war that she could not win. Athena knew her time was coming one way or another. If only she had another place to relieve herself! Kind of like how Artemis went to use the woods. That was it… As the wisdom goddess, Athena knew she would think of something. Athena used the last of her energy to teleport away. Teleporting with a full bladder was extremely painful. Athena’s bladder felt quite literally as if it were stretched and then pounded down upon. Athena felt ready to pop. But she proceeded with the plan. Athena used her will and disguised as a mortal woman just as Artemis did an eagle earlier that evening. It was pitch black out and that worked well in favor of Athena! There was a large city in the distance and Athena was in the town square. She recognized this place well. It was the city state of which Athena was a patron god, the most famous of the Greek city states, Athens! Athena figured she was better off relieving herself here than anywhere else! Hands under her skirt, Athena raced across the pavement, allowing her skirt to billow up behind her. Athena ran and she ran and she entered the public latrine Artemis spoke of. It was beautiful! Two long benches stood with dozens of holes cut into the smoothed wood. Athena could no longer wait! As soon as Athena neared the closest hole and lifted her skirt up, the stream jetted out. Athena sat down on the wood just as her stream went pouring from her body. Athena moaned in absolute bliss as her bladder drained and her pee shot down into the wooden hole. Athena’s stream was so noisy, she feared she would wake up the whole city state. But she didn’t care. She was just so grateful to get relief! Athena smiled in joy as she lounged back on the bench, enjoying the feeling of her bladder void itself. Athena kept her legs spread so she may keep a constant eye on what was happening inside the hole. Just as Athena feared, the urine level inside the hole was increasing towards the top. Athena could feel the warmth of her nectar touch her vulva. And not just the pee squirting from it. But also the pee that was filling up inside. With much effort, the wisdom goddess managed to stem the flow. She stood, took two steps, sat down in the next hole, and released her flood once more. And so, Athena went around the public latrine filling up hole after hole with her godly juices. Just as Athena was nearing her end, she noticed there was only one hole left in the public latrine. Athena was relieved no one was around to see this. The way Artemis spoke of this place, Athena had feared it would be packed with mortals in need of relief. Although, to be fair, it was night time. Athena was willing to wager that a place like this would be a lot more popular during the day. No mortal could produce this much urine in one go. No human could ever produce this much urine in their entire lives for that matter! How would Athena explain this to the mortals? Good thing they weren’t here! Athena instantly kicked herself for thinking that. Just her luck, as soon as Athena began to fully relax, a mortal man appeared. He looked to be no older than thirty, Athena would have guessed. Of course, she hardly knew much about the mortal lifespan. The man nodded to Athena. He then faced the final hole and pulled his toga up, exposing a flapping penis to the wind. Athena was ready to explode on the man. She was prepared to cure him for having dared show this display in front of a goddess. But then Athena remembered that she was in disguise. This man simply thought she was a regular mortal woman. “I am sorry, sir,” Athena said. “However, I find it quite rude that you would engage in this act in front of a woman.” “Sorry,” the man apologized. “But this is the public latrine!” “I see, and do males and females frequent this place at the same time?’ Athena asked. “Yes, ma’am, all the time,” the man said. Artemis hadn’t mentioned that part. Athena found it a little strange that men and women would alleviate themselves so close to one another… Or another person in general for that matter. But then again, humans are a strange bunch. And to be fair, perhaps it is not that weird. Sure, males and females relieve themselves in very different ways, but at the end of the day, each gender is doing the exact same activity… Emptying their bladders. The man eyed Athena. “I am sorry, ma’am,” the man began placing his toga back on. “I can relieve myself at a later time. I do not wish to disturb you.” Athena hesitated. This man showed kindness and compassion. This man - while clearly not desperate - still needed relief. He, however, was willing to put that need aside due to a stranger stating she was uncomfortable with it. Athena was getting relief. Who was she to deny this man his? Plus, Athena knew from personal experience how uncomfortable a full bladder was. Even if not desperate, it is not fun to have to hold your fluid. The same fluid your body wishes to expel for that matter! “No, I am fine,” Athena found herself saying. “Please, go on, do your business. I shall turn away if you wish.” “That is not necessary ma'am, but are you sure?” The stranger asked. “I do not wish to make you uncomfortable.” “I am fine, honest,” the winsome goddess said. “Just confused is all. In my home city state, you see, our public latrines are one gender only. And even then, we may only go one at a time.” “Really,” the man lifted his toga and golden liquid began shooting forth from his penis. Athena did her best not to stare, but she could not help herself. “I find that strange. How would everyone be able to relieve themselves in this case?” Athena considered the long goddesses’ bathroom line on Olympus. “It is… Difficult,” Athena assured the stranger. “By the way,” he said. “Do you know why all these other holes are filled?” Athena felt herself swallow. “I suppose they have yet to be emptied.” The two peed in silence, listening to the cricket’s chirp as well as the sound of the other peeing. Athena was relieved (literally) that she didn’t have any pee left inside. She didn’t know what she would have done next. This man was using the final hole. It is a good thing Athena stopped when she did! Athena found some pessoi - old shards of vase - beside her on the bench. Athena used this to wipe her private area and she allowed her skirt to fall back into place. Athena nearly forgot this fellow was here, watching. But like a gentleman, he kept his eyes focused on his own stream, completely ignoring hers. The man soon finished. He shook off and allowed his toga to fall back into place. The man turned and nearly crashed into Athena. “Oh, ma’am, I thought you left,” the man said. “Did you need something?” “Yes,” Athena said. “I wish to thank you and reward you.” “Pardon?” The fellow asked. The wisdom goddess shed her disguise. Now that her bladder was properly drained, it was much easier to use her powers! Athena appeared before the strange man in her godly form. She also was back in wearing her full battle armor and she even held her spear at her side. “A… Athena?” The man crooked. Athena’s gray eyes filled with wisdom sunk into the man. “My lady,” the man bowed. He quickly looked up. “Did… Did I just…” “Urinate next to a divine goddess? Yes, you did,” The man looked ready to be sick. “Ma’am… I am so, soooo sorry… I…” Athena held up a hand to silence the stranger. “What is your name?’ “My name? Cace,” the man replied. “Well, Cace,” Athena said. “Under normal circumstances I may be angry. But to tell you the truth…” Athena let out a deep breath. “I am just so relieved! Not that you need to know, but there was a long line for the ladies’ room on Olympus. I eventually gave up waiting and came down to earth to relieve myself. And it felt grand!” Athena had no idea what had gotten into her. She just felt so overjoyed that it was over with, it made her all giddy. “I… I am glad you feel better, my lady,” Cace said. He eyed the many holes overflowing with Athena’s bladder contents. “Yes,” Athena said, reading this young man’s mind. “That is all mine.” “My lady,” Cace apologized. “If I had known… I never would have…” “But you did not know,” Athena said sharply. “And I believe I told you I did not mind if you relieved yourself. And I did not mind. That said, I am grateful to you for showing such kindness to a stranger. You were willing to walk away and hold your urine so I, a stranger, may alleviate herself in private.” “I… I didn’t have to go that badly anyway, my lady,” Cace said. “Be that as it may, you were still seen showing kindness. I do not let that go unrecognized,” Athena moved her body in a full circle, admiring the city around her. “I have always admired this city. I may be biased, however. This city was named after myself, of course. I have a gift for you as well as every one in this city.” Athena pointed to the couple dozen filled up holes of liquid waste. “You see my urine?’ “Yes, ma’am.” “Godly urine has magical properties,” Athena explained. “I wish you to alert the citizens of this city that my urine shall heal the sick and the injured. All you must do is drink a handful of my nectar. Can you do that for me, my good man?” “Yes, my lady!” Cace said eagerly, throwing in a salute for good measure. “Thank you, Cace, for everything,” the wisdom goddess said. Cace nodded and then turned to alert his city of the magical godly urine. Athena took that as her cue to leave. Athena was anxious to get home back to Mount Olympus and take a nap. Holding in all that pee was tiresome… Even for a goddess! Let me know if you think I should do more stories like this. I can do more Greek goddesses. Perhaps some of the minor ones, like the muses. Or I could do another pantheon entirely. The possibilities are endless!
It was pointed out that this story only followed one perspective. I figured that would be easier than jumping all over between the perspectives of seven different goddesses. So, I had the story follow Athena around as she is genially the most well-known. But great minds think alike, because I also wished I had done the other perspectives. So, I wrote some quick stories of how the other goddesses relieved themselves. *Note: We saw Athena and Hestia pee in the story above, so I didn't include them in the following set of short stories. Aphrodite goddess of love and beauty: It was a common mistake to take Aphrodite for a weak, defenseless goddess just because she was the goddess of love! A little-known fact about Aphrodite: She loved war! She was in a serious relationship with Ares, the war god for crying out loud! A better-known fact about the goddess of love: She loved conflict! Aphrodite loved to mess with people’s love lives. She made men and women fall in love with one another. She even had powers over the supreme gods, even Zeus himself was her plaything in her game of love! Bottom line, Aphrodite was powerful. Don’t let her ‘love goddess’ thing fool you for an instant! When Aphrodite wanted to, she could go full Hercules! And she did. As Aphrodite was clawing at Hera, the bathroom door wide open, relief in sight, Aphrodite’s full bladder inspired her to push with extra strength and might. Still, as she jabbed at Hera, she could feel all the nectar inside her bladder shifting towards the exit. Aphrodite would not have an accident! Inspired by her aching full godly bladder, Aphrodite pushed past Hera and slammed the door shut. Aphrodite’s hands flew, locking the door. She heard Hera banging furiously on the other side, cursing the love goddess with all of her might. Aphrodite ignored this and faced her precious toilet. Despite living in ancient Greece, the gods were advanced on Mount Olympus. Aphrodite’s ex-husband, Hephestus invented these things called ‘toilets’ to eliminate waste products. They were made of precious metal and at the bottom there was a bowl, like a chamber pot but larger. (Appropriate for the gods’ bladder sizes). There was water at the bottom of the bowl. The only issue with this design was how much the gods’ bladders stored. A bowl this size would never manage to catch all the liquid the gods produced. Thankfully, however, Hephestus thought of this. The toilets flushed automatically when they reached a certain point. Aphrodite rounded on the toilet. She spun as fast as Terpsichore (the goddess of dancing). Aphrodite threw her toga up and landed her round butt on top of the bowl. An instant PLOOOUUSH sounded from below the love goddess’ pussy. Aphrodite moaned in relief. This feeling was ten times better than sex! And Aphrodite should know, given how much sex she’s had in her immortal life. Aphrodite used her hand to hold her head up, keeping her elbow on her knee. Aphrodite stared ahead at the bronze door. Her vision was swimming from relief. Aphrodite swallowed, relief flooding her mouth. There was the constant banging from Hera and screaming from the other goddess’ in line, but given how good this release felt, Aphrodite didn’t care in the slightest. It felt oh, too good to free all that wine and nectar from her overfilled bladder. At that moment, Aphrodite didn’t care about anything. She didn’t care about what the other gods thought of her. She didn’t care if Ares found out about her embarrassing moment here. She didn’t care that she stole Hera’s spot in line. On the contrary, she was rather grateful for that last one. Aphrodite just cared about the relief she got! It was sooo good! The steamy pee felt boiling hot against her godly labia. Aphrodite breathed a breath of air and relaxed, knowing she would be here for a while. One of the bad things about having a nearly endless bladder captivity, however - aside from how long it takes you to void - is that generally speaking, the initial feeling of heavenly relief that makes you want to sing with all nine muses… Yeah, it doesn’t last forever. Aphrodite has been sitting on the toilet for nearly ten minutes now and that first feeling of blessed relief had long since faded. Now, this felt like just a normal pee. The orgasmic feeling of relief had become a boring feeling of slight comfort now. Aphrodite knew her bladder was nearly drained. Aphrodite must certainly didn’t have the largest bladder on Olympus. But she didn’t have the smallest either. The entire time she let loose on the bowl, Aphrodite heard the toilet occasionally flush as it filled to the brim with her fluids. Aphrodite tried to count how many times it flushed. She lost tract at three, however. This moment was far too good to soil with math anyway! As she peed, Aphrodite let slip a few farts, that she would have died if anyone heard. And saying an immortal would die is huge, but in this case, an accurate statement. Aphrodite felt her stream nearing its end. The sound had dulled down as well. What started as a gigantic waterfall had turned into a trickling creek. After a few more minutes, Aphrodite’s bladder was nearly drained all the way. Aphrodite - feeling a bit left in there - gave a series of small pushes to get the rest out. At this point, the perky butt of the goddess of love had fallen fast asleep waiting and waiting. Aphrodite’s butt tingled as she stood up at long last, grasped a clay shard and used it to wipe her genitalia, careful not to cut her most sensitive area. Aphrodite set the shard back for someone else to use and laid her toga back in place. Hearing faint pangs on the door now, Aphrodite looked down at the bowl which was half filled up with her urine. It wasn’t filled up enough to flush automatically, though. Not wishing the others to see her bladder’s contents, she flushed manually. Aphrodite watched in satisfaction as her urine - the exact color of the nectar she had to drink - flush down the pipes. Aphrodite then went to the sink and took her time fixing her hair and make-up. The other goddess could wait. Right? They would have to. Aphrodite might enjoy a good war, but she doesn’t want to look like she’s been through one! Her hair and make-up needed her attention, pronto! Hera goddess of marriage and family; Queen of Olympus: “Stupid Aphrodite,” Hera was cursing under her breath as she staggered into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. “Stupid, Eris. Stupid, everyone,” Hera grunted like an enraged Minotaur. Hera locked the door and rushed for the toilet. She had to constantly move her legs and keep them at her crotch. Otherwise, she risked leaking. And the queen of the heavens did not leak her urine! Hera threw her toga up and fell backwards onto her new throne. Hera moaned loudly as a yellow jet blasted from in between her legs like a waterfall in between two cliffs. Hera kept her legs spread wide, admiring the gorgeous sight of her pissing godly pussy. Hera smiled in relief as she watched her golden stream fall at a seventy-degree angle and slam against the side of the bowl before rolling down into the water below her. The stream was powerful too. It blasted the bowl with such force, Hera half feared the metal toilet would be cut in half like cheese. Hera let herself relax, knowing she would be here for some time. Hera’s peacock feather crown began to tilt. Hera allowed it to stay at an awkward angle, too tired to fix it right now. The relief was nothing like the queen of the gods had ever experienced before. A pee this great was worth all of the troubles in the chaosmos. It was worth Zeus always cheating on her. It was worth that punk, Hercules becoming a god. It was worth creating the fearsome monster Lamia and having the other gods angry with her. And most of all… It was worth the wait! Hera gushed violently into the bowl. She could feel her godly piss hole throbbing as it forced all of her bladder’s contents out at rapid fire speed. Hera peed so quickly, in fact, that the toilet automatically flushed within thirty seconds of her sitting down. Hera laid back against the bowl, staring at the ceiling. Hera allowed her eyes to close. She continued to sit with her legs far apart as she went. Being in a private room just to herself, Hera didn’t need to worry about being the proper queen of the gods. She was free to relax and spray the inside of the bowl as she saw fit. As Hera listened to the full toilet flush again, she grinned, her temper melting away. Hera felt like she died and went to Elysium. And in Elysium, she just could not be angry. It felt too good… After a rather long time - she had no clue how long - Hera’s stream slowly subsided. Hera pushed a final dribble out. She could feel remaining droplets falling from her lips as she stood. Hera wiped with the clay shard, flushed the bowl one last time, fixed her toga, and washed her hands. Hera made it to the door. She hesitated a moment. Hera fixed her crowd and flattened the wrinkles out of her dress. Hera quickly wiped her happy-go-lucky smirk off her face and quickly replaced it with her age-old, go-to expression of irritation. She then unlocked the door. Artemis goddess of the hunt, the moon, and archery: Artemis flapped her wings as quickly as she could. She felt heavily weighed down from her bladder. She could see it bulging through her bird belly. Artemis felt ready to leak. She knew from past experience that should she pee in bird form; it would come out as that white stuff - pee and poop combined. It was gross! Artemis saw the forest in sight. She made great time! She could hold it. She was so close now… Still, with a painfully filled up bladder, being this close to relief felt like the distance from Olympus to earth to a mortal’s eye. Artemis could feel a squirt coming. She knew she made the right choice to go to the forest. She just wished she hadn’t waited so long. Why had she waited so long? Seriously, Artemis should have gone to the forest sooner. And normally, she would have. But she was also slightly afraid of what the other goddesses would think of her. Artemis usually doesn’t care what they think. But she knew those princesses of Olympus would have negative feelings about peeing outside. Artemis being the goddess of the hunt and by definition, the wilderness too, did her business outside all the time! She found it far more relaxing and enjoyable than using the toilet. And most importantly, it was natural! Besides, the others should be happy! With Artemis stepping out of line to have a wee elsewhere, it was one less goddess they had to wait for. Why the others didn’t give in and join Artemis was beyond her! Poor Hestia had clearly wanted to, but Artemis knew she was bullied into staying by the others. Poor girl. Regardless, just as the nature goddess feared, the other goddesses thought she was disgusting and weird. ‘Ah, so what?’ she chided herself. ‘Who cares what they think? They’ll probably all piss themselves while my bladder will be nice and drained!’ Artemis felt herself squirt at the thought. She had to hurry! Artemis touched down in the woods and quickly shapeshifted back into goddess form. Artemis moaned, grabbing herself with one hand as she felt a small trickle escape. Artemis rested the other hand on her stomach and boy, was it swollen! Artemis felt her stomach ready to pop! She quickly darted into the shade of the trees. Artemis usually peed with her huntresses around. It was weird not to have them. Artemis would have loved for the girls to see her now! After their dumb drinking content, their mistress exploded all over the forest floor. The thought brought a smile to Artemis’ face. Strangely enough, she also wished that Hippolytus was here. He was one of the two men Artemis had allowed in the hunt. Poor Hippolytus was a good man who was framed for crimes he never committed by his sinister stepmother, Phaedra. Hippolytus was now in the underworld as a ghost. Artemis recalled how he had confided in her about his love of desperation. Of course, as one of her hunters, he swore that - and all other acts of love - off. But Artemis was touched he trusted her to share that with. And would Hippolytus have been overjoyed to see her like this! Barely able to stand up straight. Finding the perfect spot, the moon goddess lifted her toga and squatted down at the base of a nice fir tree. Artemis’ eyes widened, showing a reflection of her twin brother, Apollo’s sun chariot as the stream started. Artemis had to go so badly, that even with her powerful urinary system of the gods, only a small stream started. The weak stream pattered into the grass, quiet and dull. But it did not stay small for long. After a count of ten, the stream grew to the size of a cyclops' eye (which were big, by the way) and doused the forest floor. Artemis rested a hand against her lightly hairy pubic region and pulled it upwards ever so slightly. In turn, Artemis’ vulva was lifted, and the archery goddess’ stream blasted like a river rapid through the air and crashed down into the grass. Despite being a lover of nature, Artemis couldn’t help but smirk as she watched her powerful golden jet flatten down dozens of blades of grass. You can’t do that on the toilet! Artemis was a fool to resist this. She should have used the forest as her bathroom ages ago instead of waiting in that infernal line! It was good to pee and even better to be true to her wild self! Artemis could not help but move her body back and forth as she squirted. This caused her moon charm to bounce around in between her breasts. Artemis moaned in delight, letting her head fall back against the tree. And the wild goddess remained squatting there, one hand holding her toga up, the other aiming her stream off in the distance, and her head planted against the fir’s trunk behind her. Gods, this felt great! Artemis - along with her many other goodly duties - was also the goddess of chastity. That is to say, she made sure those - like herself - who choose maidenhood (or even men that choose bachelorhood like Hippolytus) stayed maidens or bachelors. Still… With a pee this great, it was the closest thing Artemis got to an orgasm. And she could easily see why one would want this feeling all the time. After taking a pee this nice, Artemis had to sympathize with her father, Zeus for always wanting intercourse. Artemis silently prayed to all the gods, never to let this feeling of ecstasy end! Sadly, like with all great things in life… It did. Not the stream. No, that was still going full force and would be for the foreseeable future. But just like the other gods, the longer she peed, the more the initial feeling of rapture ended. Artemis’ once mighty piss turned into that of indifference. Artemis’ legs were getting tired of supporting her weight in such a strange position. Artemis jiggled her legs to wake them up. She breathed through her mouth. Now that the joy of finally peeing wore off, Artemis went from I-never-want-this-moment-to-end to please-let-me-stop-peeing. Artemis’ stream washed away the dirt, so powerful it wiped out everything in its path. Feeling her bladder, Artemis feared she wasn’t even half done. That was a lot of water she drank at the contest with her hunters. Add that to everything else she consumed since whenever she peed last, she had a lot bottled up. Artemis lost track of time. But she noticed Apollo was setting in the distance. Apollo’s sun chariot going down was enough to cause darkness to begin to overtake the forest. Artemis wondered if Apollo could see her from his sun chariot in the sky. Artemis was almost tempted to wave. But she knew Apollo would just make some dumb joke about this later, so it was probably best if he didn’t see her! At least when Apollo teased Artemis, it was a loving twin thing. That was far more than she could say for when the fellow goddesses did it. The stream soon stopped completely. Artemis - realizing she had nothing to wipe with - used her powers to grow a small bush right next to her and she used its leaves to soak up the moisture trapped between her all powerful (and unused) labia. Artemis stood and adjusted her toga. The moon goddess looked down at the very wet grass she created. There was a gigantic circle, ten feet in diameter - where the grass remained flat against the ground, dripping wet with shining beads of goddess piss. Artemis refused to leave the forest like this. She waved her hand over it and then snapped. The grass instantly leveled out and grew back to its full height and beyond. The forest was better than ever! Plus, Artemis knew that godly urine had magical properties. The surrounding trees and plants should grow bigger and better than ever in no time! In the meantime, Artemis turned, and proudly walked away. As her sandals slapped against the grassy rub beneath her, Artemis smiled, wondering what the other goddesses would think when they saw Artemis again. And she really didn’t care. Artemis was so happy, she decided to walk all the way back to Mount Olympus. Demeter goddess of agriculture: Demeter charged into the bathroom faster than a Cretan bull. She slammed the door, and her fingers flew over the lock. Demeter grasped her crotch, feeling a small dribble fall from her labia and roll down her legs, lightly wetting her toga. Gasping, Demeter rushed to the toilet, raising her toga as she went. Demeter’s butt wasn’t even all the way down by the time the tide erupted from her. Demeter finally landed on the bowl, moaning with bliss as days’ worth of pee cascaded from her and splashed down into the water far below her. Demeter just imaged the water changing color from clear to yellow. She moaned and grunted, slamming her head against the wall in total gratification. Demeter’s chest puffed in and out as her godly lungs went into hyperdrive. The sound echoing off the marble walls was that of a thunderstorm mixed with a tsunami. The Atticans thought they had it rough when Poseidon flooded their city state. Oh, no, Demeter was flooding the toilet bowl! Demeter could feel the level of her hot piss rise and rise as more was added to it every millisecond. Demeter heard the toilet automatically flush under her as she continued raining down into it, her piss trumpeting off the walls of the bowl as the water turned a deep yellow and shot towards the top. Demeter was happier than a farmer to awaken and find their crops had grown. Demeter suddenly found that she would rather be here, peeing than anywhere else in the world. Even on a farm harvesting wheat stalks! If only the crops were able to taste Demeter’s piss. She beat they would shoot so far up, not even Bellerophon would be able to reach the top on Pegasus. Demeter closed her eyes and imagined the field. Rows upon rows of wheat, cabbage, turnips, barley, onions, garlic, all arranged neatly among the plains. Then, a rainstorm brew above. But rather than normal rainwater, it rained pee. Godly piss falling from the heavens. Demeter always loved rain. It made the crops grow. But how she wished her magical urine was showering the crops. How she wished the toilet was a field of fruits and veggies, just waiting to be showered in her gold. The nectar inside Demeter’s bladder drained while the urine level in the toilet went up. Demeter - realizing she was still holding her scythe, placed it gently on her knees and smiled down at it as - what felt like the entire Mediterranean Ocean surge through her pussy lips and hiss against the water. The toilet kept flushing every now and again and the grain goddess kept pissing. Around the three-quarter mark, Demeter’s once overwhelmingly solace feeling of bliss now lowered into a moderate comfortable feeling of joy, soon to be nothing more than a mediocre wee. Demeter scratched her eye. Her stream was never ending. The toilet flushed again. Demeter’s butt was fast asleep as were her feet. Demeter heard screaming from the other side of the door. She felt bad for the other goddess, but what could she do? Her pee wasn’t over yet. Demeter listened as her stream began to slow down gradually over the course of her twenty-minuet urination. The stream went from PLLLLLLOOOOSH to PLLLLLAAAT to PLLSS to OOOOPPP to HIssssss to Triiicklle and finally drip, drip, drop… Demeter wiped with a shard, stood and fixed her yellow and green toga. Demeter washed her hands and hurried out of the bathroom to give the next goddess in line a chance. Persephone goddess of spring; Queen of the Underworld: Persephone darted into the restroom, slamming the door behind her. Having been forced to walk in poor Hestia’s hecatoncheir sized puddle, Persephone’s immortal bladder could no longer stand the pressure. Even as she ran, Persephone was peeing. She hadn’t completely lost control like the hearth goddess outside the door; however, Persephone had a strong river of urine running down her left leg. She had to keep both hands wedged far down in the folds of her robes to keep from letting every last drop out. The front of Persephone’s robes were soaked. She had already expelled a lot of urine. And she was still somehow holding back the main event. Persephone was furious with her mother for not letting her cut in line. Sure, Persephone never asked. But she was Demeter’s daughter! It should have been implied! Demeter always told Persephone that she was her favorite daughter. Clearly not when her own bladder was concerned! Still leaking a constant stream down her leg, Persephone plopped down on the bowl, barely pulling her robes to the side before her tired sphincter gave in. The loudest stream Persephone ever heard bounded off the walls. The walls in this otherwise quiet room were just as echoey as they were in the underworld. Persephone’s stream of former pomegranate juice blasted down into the toilet water with a satisfying hissss. Her stream was as steamy as the River Phlegethon - the river of fire down in the underworld. Persephone smelled the sweet scene of pomegranate in her liquid waste. That made her smile even farther. Persephone suddenly had a strange desire to taste her stream. Did it still taste like pomegranate or a hint of them at least? They sure smelled like Persephone’s favorite fruit. Persephone looked down to see the gigantic yellow waterfall splashing down from her shivering labia. Persephone’s labia lips were - interestingly enough - as pitch black as the darkest parts of the underworld. Persephone always secretly wondered if it was a coincidence, or did her labia indicate it was fate that she married the king of the underworld. How Persephone wished Hades was here now. Persephone knew the other gods - more specifically, her mother disapproved of her relationship with Hades for… Reasons… But the fact of the matter is, Persephone had a great relationship with the king of the dead. Persephone was currently trying to convince her husband to mix things up in the bedroom. She only saw him for four months out of the year. She wanted every second of them to be enjoyable for both of them. One of Persephone’s suggestions was golden showers. Hades wasn’t into it. He wasn’t into much. But he agreed to do it to make her happy. Persephone imagined, instead of a toilet, she was peeing all over her lover's - usually gloomy - face. That made her smile and she even burst into a fit of hilarious giggles right there on the toilet. Persephone feared she might have snapped from waiting so long. She cackled and cracked up like she never laughed before. Persephone just chortled like never before. Persephone’s cackling fit was interrupted by a powerful knock on the door. Athena sounded ready to break the door down. From the opposite side of the bronze, Athena called, “Hey, Persephone, almost done in there?” “Not even close!” Persephone breathed back, doing her best to steady her voice. Persephone felt a little bad for Athena, but she was so relieved, she hardly cared. The banging of the gray eyed goddess’ fist on the door stopped abruptly. Persephone pondered this for a split second, then returned to her feeling of bliss. While her bladder spent an age voiding, Persephone felt her robes. They were very damp at the crotch. Persephone had wet herself a great deal. But at least she got the majority of it in the bowl. Persephone frowned at her wet rags. But she took comfort in the fact that they had already begun the drying process. Persephone hissed into the bowl for Zeus knows how long! After an eternity and many automatic flushes of the bowl, Persephone’s bladder finally ran dry. She stood and wiped with clay. She adjusted her robes back into place and washed her hands, trying to go quick fro Atehna’s sake. But to her immense surprise, the wisdom goddess wasn’t there. Huh, that was odd. Perhaps the wisdom goddess found some place else to pee. Or perhaps she totally wet herself. Oh, well. At least Persephone made it out… Damp. Better than wet though! Persephone turned and, slightly damp, went back to the Dionysus' party.
I wrote a second story going off of this idea. This one is about the nine muses the goddess of the arts. I know the nine muses aren't the most well-known characters in mythology. That is to say, everyone knows about them as a group, but very few know of them individually. For reference: Calliope - goddess of epic poetry Clio - goddess of history Erato - goddess of love/erotic poetry Euterpe - goddess of music and wind interments Melpomene - goddess of drama and tragedy Polyhymnia - goddess of sacred songs and poems Terpsichore - goddess of dance and choir Thalia - goddess of comedy Urania - goddess of astronomy The nine muses were busy with the final preparations. Clio was restringing her lyre, Euterpe warmed up her flute, Calliope was warming up her voice, Terpsichore was tap dancing all about, Polyhymnia was stretching her throat by singing the highest notes known to man. Walking up the steps to the shrine was Apollo. “Hey, ladies, ready for the show?” The sun god asked. “You know it, Apollo!” Calliope cried. “We’re all set!” “Good. Show starts in five,” Apollo said. “And remember, this show is for Peleus and Thetis. It is their big start into married life! We want the show to be good, don’t we?” “We sure do, Apollo,” Thalia giggled. “I guess, why not?” Melpomene shrugged. “Melpomene,” Euterpe set down her lyre. “Can you try and go one day without being so gloomy?” “I’m the muse of tragedy,” Melpomene replied. “What do you expect?” “Riiiiigh…” Apollo said slowly. “Anyway, good luck out there, ladies.” And with that, the god of music left. The nine muses watched him go and when they were sure he was out of sight, they all instantly dropped what they were doing to grab themselves under their togas. “Do you think he noticed?” Polyhymnia stammered, staggering back and forth with her knees bent so tight they appeared to be fused together. “I don’t think so,” Calliope stared off into the distance in the direction of the sun god. “I have to pee so bad…” Urania wailed. “Yeah, we all do!” Melpomene snapped. “Time for a new poem,” Erato grasped at her quill and a sheet of parchment, “O to a full bladder!” Erato’s hand flew to the crotch of her toga. “What do we do?” Terpsichore danced around. Terpsichore may be the muse of dancing, but right now… She was dancing for a far more important reason. “I thought the concert wasn’t going to start for a few more hours,” Calliope hissed, remembering Apollo informing her just half an hour ago of the upcoming concert. “Why did we decide to do that dumb holding contest?” Melpomene demanded, placing one leg over her adjacent knee in the air. “We thought we had a few hours before the concert,” Euterpe reminded her sister. Hunching over and running her pale hands up her shins, Thalia grunted, “If you all just let me win then…” “You?” Calliope shuffled back and forth. “I would be the one to win! I am the leader of the muses after all!” “Does not mean you have the best bladder,” Thalia retorted. “Hate to tell you this, sis, but you are the leader due to your perfect voice, not your perfect bladder,” the goddess of comedy joked. “Who cares who would have won,” Urania wailed. “Guys, I am seeing stars! And not just cause I rule over astronomy!” “Urania is right… This is bad, girls,” Calliope said. “Five minutes isn’t long enough for one god to pee let alone nine! Melpomene is right. We should not have had that holding contest. We have not peed in over a week, and it is coming back to haunt us!” “Talk about our poor planning skills,” Thalia muttered, grabbing fistfuls of toga. Clio sighed. “Well, it is too late to undo the past. Believe me, I know,” insisted the goddess of history. “How long is this damned concert anyway?” Melpomene squeezed her tights will all of her might. Calliope’s usually tanned skin tone went white. “Two hours.” “TWO HOURS!” The other eight muses wailed. “Will there be an intermission?” Polyhymnia asked, hopeful. With sad puppy dog eyes and a desperate dance, Calliope shook her head. The muses could have of course asked Apollo to wait longer. But the issue there was the of course, as Calliope had stated, one god took several minutes to pee. And that is with a half-full bladder. But nine gods with bladders at the max… The muses might spend up to a day waiting in line for the bathroom. The muses refused to delay the concert. After all, as they say, the show must go on. The muses could not disappoint Apollo. Or the other gods. Or the friendly couple Peleus and Thetis. Peleus and Thetis were such fine mortals. They always honored the gods and respected them. Plus, Apollo - also being the god of prophecy - foretold that these mortals would have a son one day named Achilles. Achilles would be a fabulous hero in some sort of future war. The muses didn’t understand that part. But what they did understand was that these mortals who just got hitched and would someday have a super awesome son were counting on the muses' songs to send them into married life. Apollo was also counting on them. Apollo had spent months planning this concert. Apollo had promised Zeus that everything would go perfectly. He had sworn on the Styx! That was a serious oath to make to begin with. But given the fact Apollo promised Zeus… Well… Everyone knew how easy-going Zeus was. (That is the rawest form of sarcasm. Zeus was the most hot-tempered god in the entire Greek pantheon. Second to his wife, Hera maybe…) The muses had to go on. For their fans, for Achilles’ parents, for Apollo. Besides, they were goddesses. They could hold it! Hopefully… “The biggest question was… How well can we sing and dance with full bladders?” Erato asked nervously. The muses now stood on stage behind the curtain getting as much potty dancing in beforehand as they could. “Dancing won’t be an issue,” Thalia remarked with a laugh. “Can you ever be serious?” Melpomene snapped. “Can you ever be happy?” Thalia shot back. “Welcome ladies and gentlemen,” Apollo’s voice was saying from the other side of the leather curtain. “It is my honor to congratulate Peleus and Thetis for tying the note! I hope you have many happy years together. Or two.” Dead silence. Apollo swallowed. “Clio told me to tell that joke.” Melpomene eyed Clio. A simple ‘I told you that you’re not funny’ look Thalia rolled her eyes. Calliope lightly tugged on her strawberry-colored hair. She quickly adjusted her laurel wreath. Calliope would not tell her sisters this, but she felt the pressure in her godly pelvis increase every second. It was pressing down on her vulva, begging to be let out. But Calliope shook off the urge. “Come on, ladies,” Calliope whispered, more for her benefit than the others. “Let us do this for Apollo.” “THE NINE MUSES!” Apollo wailed. The crowd went wild. The curtain rolled up to reveal gods and mortals alike all sitting in garden chairs, gathered around the stage. The air was cool and the wind was gentle. The mountains grew tall in the distance and a nearby river gurgled. ‘Must we listen to that all concert?’ All nine muses thought in agony. The sun was bright - thanks to Apollo, of course. Birds chirped in the trees. The muses could not have asked for a more peaceful day for their outdoor concert. Granted, all of the gods - the beings who control nature itself - created such a fine day, it was still marvelous regardless. The muses took their positions. Clio began to lightly stroke her lyre. Calliope swayed to the music, momentarily forgetting her urinary troubles and she began to sing. Polyhymnia soon joined in, singing along with her older sister. Terpsichore danced around behind them, and Euterpe played her flute. The rest of the muses gathered around Calliope and Polyhymnia and hummed to the song all while playing a vast selection of instruments. Erato played the triangle while Thalia was on the recorder and Urania took the lute and Melpomene the hurdy-gurdy. For a while, the muses were able to forget all about their worries. This is why they loved song and dance. It took away their worries. Just by singing and dancing, they instantly felt better as if they had no cares in the world. Sadly, this remedy didn’t last long. After the first four songs, the muses began to feel their urges hit stronger than ever. Clio had her legs pressed tight, one in front of the other. Thalia used her free hand to pat her thigh, right next to her crotch. Calliope kept her legs laced around one another. Urania had tears in her eyes as she used her lute to hide the fact that she was grasping her genitalia through her pitch-black toga. Polyhymnia was frequently twirling her loose strands of chocolate hair to distract herself. Euterpe expertly wiggled her fingers down the keys of her flute, all the while lifting her legs up and down against her crotch, working her hardest to make it appear to just be a dance move. And as Thalia pointed out, technically it was! Melpomene kept her hurdy-gurdy pressing down deep into her crotch. She was forced to play the instrument at an awkward angle, but better than openly holding herself. In between notes, Erato used her steel rod to tug on the straps of her flamingo pink toga, anything to distract herself. Terpsichore had it the easiest. As the one to do all the dancing, she was able to frequently move her legs about and keep them as close together as she wished. She even managed to squeeze her crotch and then spin around, making it look like a dance move. Song number five ended. There were still eight more to go and the first hour was not even up. The muses knew they were in trouble. Song six was over and the first hour ended. This would have been the perfect time to take a break! But alas, no breaks were scheduled. All nine muses stood cross legged and shaking. They were goddesses. While it was unlikely, it certainly was possible for them to have accidents all over the stage. And even if they, against all odds, managed to hold out another sixty minutes with seven additional songs, by that time, the audience would surely know of their predicament. If they hadn’t known already that is! The muses were ready to cry as fear and agony washed over them. They had all held their urine in their dumb holding contest more than a week now. They had plenty of water and nectar to drink within that time. The pain was insufferable! All eighteen of their hands twitched violently, struggling to refrain from openly grabbing themselves. Soon, there would be nine identical puddles on stage. The very thought made all nine sisters ready to squirt like never before! Just when all hope had seemed lost for the muses, there came an interruption from the front row. “I apologize,” said Doris, the mother of the bride, Thetis. Doris was also one of the three thousand daughters of Oceanus and Tethys, the titans of the ocean and freshwater respectively. Oh, why did Doris have to be the one to interrupt? Just looking at her made the muses think of her parents. The ocean, the rivers, the streams… Freshwater and saltwater combined. Urania felt a sharp hiss soak her toga. The urine rolled down her slim legs. Urania had the worst bladder out of her sisters. Truthfully, a week of holding was a lot for Urania! She had never held this long nor this much in her immortal life. As the goddess of astronomy, Urania could control the entire cosmos, yet she failed to contain her bladder’s waters! Calliope looked at her youngest sister. While the wet patch on her toga was unable to be detected (mostly due to the darkness of the fabric) up close, one could see beads of urine glisten off the astronomy muse’s legs. “Yes, Doris, is everything okay?” Apollo called. “I am sorry to interrupt, my lord,” the mother of the bride apologized. “I was just wondering if we may take a brief intermission. I must… Create an ocean if you know what I mean.” “I am sure there is an intermission coming up, Doris,” Zeus promised, sitting in the front. The thunder god eyed Apollo. “You did schedule an intermission. Correct, Apollo?” Zeus growled at the sun god. Zeus’ growling sounded just like thunder brewing in the sky and it made Apollo quake in his place. “O… Of course, L… Lord Zeus,” Apollo wheezed as though he had horrible asthma. “In fact…” Apollo said quickly. “It is intermission time right now!” All nine muses quickly perked up. “We have a twenty-minute intermission starting now!” Apollo announced. “Please get a drink, food, use the facilities, whatever you wish. We shall reconvene shortly.” \As soon as the curtain closed, all nine muses turned and booked it off stage! The nine goddesses charged down the steps and raced across the greenery towards the nearest lavatory. Down the hill, there were a set of godly toilets set up. Each toilet sat within four wooden walls on the edge of the meadow. Hephestus called these new inventions, ‘porta potties’. The goddesses ran full steam ahead, hands in crotches, wanting nothing more than to sit on the bowl and gush. They only had twenty minutes. Hopefully it was long enough for them all to properly empty. Or at least drain most of their overworked bladders. They were halfway when Urania froze in her tracks. She felt as if all of the water in the universe was contained within the walls of her urinary bladder, being held back by a sphincter that was quickly losing its strength. Urania felt as if her bladder was its own planet. A planet made entirely of water. And that water… Was pure gold. This image was far too much for the youngest muse. “Oh, oh…” the astronomy goddess breathed as she felt an ocean flow down her legs. In a split second, Urania’s toga, the color of the night sky, was soaked all from the waist down. Multiple rivers of urine ran down her incredibly pale legs and cascaded onto her sandals, flowing down her toes, and finally pooling into the grass at her feet, turning the spot she stood into a wet wonderland of damp grass and slightly sour smelling urine. Urania began to sob as she just stood there, on her way to the toilets, fully drenched in her own liquids. And yet, the relief was heavenly. Truly a piss fit for a goddess! Urania was once again seeing stars. And they were the best kind. The stars that showed themselves to you when you were in absolute paradise. This was Urania’s utopia. Stars danced in her vision. Stars. Stars… “Oh, Urania,” Calliope looked back at her sister, hobbling like an elderly as she struggled to hang on herself. “I… I…” Urania cried. “It happens, Urania, it’s okay,” Erato promised. “It is better than okay!” Urania quickly perked up. “It feels fantastic! Oh, gods of Olympus! Sweet relief!” “Glad you enjoy, girl,” Polyhymnia’s legs were crossed twice as she bobbed up and down on her sandals like a centaur’s body when they gallop. Watching their sister pee, the remaining eight muses felt their bladders cramp up, their sphincters ready to break as well. The rest turned and fled towards their beckoning thrones. Alas, there were only three porta potties. The good news was the muses were the first to reach them. They all began to shout and fight as they all struggled to be the first inside. Terpsichore - being the most angelic of the muses - would have made her way inside, but at the last second, Erato grabbed her arm and pushed her to the side. Erato dashed in and slammed the door shut. With one out house taken, that left only two and seven desperate goddesses. They all crammed towards the second one. Clio was the first one in. The other six’s heads snapped towards the final open toilet. They all lunged for it at once. That’s when Calliope spotted something. The muse of epic poetry thrust her hands out in either direction to hold her sisters back. Holding them back while simultaneously holding back a full bladder was no easy feat. But she had to. For a reason more important than the ocean inside. “Girls, wait,” Calliope hissed. “Not falling for it,” Polynhymnia swiveled around her sister and dashed for the loo. Calliope grasped Polyhymnia’s arm and pulled her back. “I’m serious, Calliope snapped. “Look…” Coming down the hill was Doris. “Doris? So what?” Melpomene danced on the spot. “She’s the mother of the bride,” Calliope pointed out. “And we know she has to pee! It is rude of us to hog the final toilet.” “It will also be rude to completely piss ourselves,” Melpomene snapped, the pressure in her bladder almost wiping her out. “No, she is right,” Euterpe made a fist and moved it in circles around her crotch. “What would Apollo think if he heard us hogging the toilet and making poor Doris wait?” “Besides, Doris isn’t a goddess like us,” Calliope pointed out. “She’s an oceanid, daughter of the water titans.” “Don’t say water…” Thalia whimpered, doing a slight jig where she stood. “My point is, we as goddesses pee a lot longer than she does,” Calliope said. “We can hold our pee for ages. She can’t. She will probably be in and out!” “But her parents are the titans of salt and freshwater!” Melpomene whined. “She may piss forever!” “I don’t think that’s how it works,” Calliope said. “Hey, ladies,” a voice said. Doris had caught up to them. “Great show so far! Can’t wait to see the rest.” The muses all muttered under their breaths. “Are you all waiting for the toilets?” Doris asked, eyeing the stalls. “There is still one open one.” The muses looked at one another then back to Doris. They all knew what they had to do. It was what Apollo would have wanted. Plus, Calliope had a point. Doris may be a daughter of two titans, but she was an ocean spirit. Her bladder was not limitless like the muses. Well… Mostly limitless. “We actually want you to go first,” Calliope said, gesturing for Doris to go on. Doris looked the muses up and down, noticing how they squirmed and danced all around. “Are you sure?” She asked. “You look awfully desperate.” “Yeah, yeah, how quick do you pee?” Melpomene demanded. “MELPOMENE!” the other five muses shouted. The goddess of tragedy just shrugged. “I am an ocean spirit. In other words, I am more mortal than all of you,” Doris explained. “I should only take two minutes. Tops. Are you sure?” The muses nodded. “Okay, thank you,” Doris stepped into the final toilet and shut the door. Inside the farthest stall on the left, Clio stood above the toilet, lifting her tangerine toga and aiming her vulva towards the bowl. A very strong, very sloppy stream, shot from the pee hole of the history goddess. “A… A… Ahhhhhhhh…” Clio was unable to keep from moaning aloud. She slowly lowered herself all the way down onto the toilet. A smile spread across her face and her large green eyes closed. The corner of Clio’s lip twitched as she listened to the beautiful sound of a waterfall rushing from between her tights. Clio hugged her knees in pure joy. This was the best feeling in the entire universe to let a week’s worth of pee go! It was so, so freeing. Clio pissed at full force. She was able to feel how messy her stream was. Clio always struggled with a messy stream. Even on a nearly empty bladder, the history goddess’ pee stream never fell straight down. It broke into a dozen different streams and went into all sorts of different directions. But when she was really desperate - like now - her sloppy stream got even more untidy. Clio felt a stray stream splash her left buttock. Clio only smiled even more, enjoying everything. The feeling of the pressure draining from her, the sound of hissing, even the clumsiness of her stream. It was all perfect! As the history goddess, Clio was an expert historian. And yet, as far as she knew, nothing in history compared to the feeling of emptying a bursting bladder! As she closed the door on her desperate sisters, Erato squirted into her bright pink toga. Cursing ferociously in ancient Greek, Erato yanked up her toga and as soon as she did, an all-powerful squirt forced its way from her sphincter down into the bowl with an ear splitting psshhh. Erato’s curvy rump rested on the toilet bowl as a golden piss the color of nectar trembled down into the bowl, flowing as fast as a rapid river. Erato felt herself orgasm. As the muse of love and erotic poetry, Erato was a lot more sexual than her sisters. It didn’t take a lot to make the love poetry goddess orgasm. And pissing with a full bladder was enough to do that. Erato was so tempted just to grab her clit and fiddle it as hard as she could and cum into the bowl. And normally she would have done just that. She would have had this glorious pee while masturbating. She would allow her urine stream to spray all around as she rubbed and rubbed her clit, experimenting with different pressures and styles of play. But Erato knew her sisters wouldn’t very much like it when they finally did enter and they found the stall coated in Erato’s liquid waist. So, Erato may not be able to masturbate right now. But she would be damned if she allowed all of this built up energy to go to waist! She got an idea. Erato reached into the folds of her toga and produced a parchment and quill. Erato held the black scroll before her and rapidly began to scribble words onto the rough paper. Erato wrote line after line, lyric after lyric. Erato always did get her best inspiration from experiences. And there was no experience better than draining a bladder that was mere seconds away from rupturing! Erato wrote of a woman who, like her, had been waiting for ages to use the toilet. And when she finally did, she felt the powerful raw orgasm that came with release. The sheer energy of her organs as her bladder drained. It was the most peaceful she had ever been. Erato loved this moment, never wishing it to end. As she peed and peed, she wrote and wrote. Both her bladder and her inspirational mind were overjoyed. Erato thought of giving this poem to Eros for his birthday. Erato was great friends with the god of sexual love. Eros, the son of Aphrodite and Ares, naturally loved all things sexual. Erato thought of discussing with him how emptying a full bladder brought her to an orgasm. She was sure he would be intrigued. Erato felt extremely bad for her poor sisters outside who - rather than experience this relief - were forced to wait. But it was hard to care when Erato felt her heart racing and her clit buzzing like this. Her bladder was emptying, and her muscles were relaxed. Every muscle in Erato's immortal form was at peace. Calliope, Polyhymnia, Euterpe, Thalia, Melpomene, and Terpsichore continued to squirm and dance outside the three closed off stall doors. Calliope kept her legs crossed in front of one another. Polyhymnia sat on the grass, hugging her knees close to her, and rocking back and forth on her bum. Euterpe was bunching up her toga, silently whispering to herself not to pee. Thalia was hopping from foot to foot so slightly that she was hardly moving them off the grass, as she pressed her happy drama mask against her genitalia, using it as a makeshift plug to keep herself sealed off. Melpomene kept her body hunched as she chewed her lip like an angry tiger ripping apart a mortal. The tragedy goddess kept her eyelids closed and hands in between her tights. Terpsichore - not caring who saw any more - had moved her skirt all the way up so she could hold her aching vulva itself. Terpsichore also danced around even more so than usual, kicking her legs out, twisting her legs, bouncing, everything under the sun to keep from having an accident. The farthest right porta potty opened its door. Doris stepped out. That was rather quick! That was the good news. The bad news was, upon seeing the free toilet on the other side of the door, all six of the remaining muses were prepared to explode from the inside out. “Phew!” Doris wiped sweat from her forehead. ‘I feel better! Thanks for letting me…” She was cut off as six desperate goddesses rushed at her. “MOVE!” Melpomene shouted, pushing Doris away. “Hey, that was rude,” Calliope snapped at her sister. “I’m the muse of tragedy,” Melpomene danced/ran into the open toilet. “AND THERE IS ABOUT TO BE A TRAGEDY IN MY TOGA!!!” Slam! Calliope looked at Doris, her face expressing her remorse. “We have to go rather badly,” she admitted. “Oh? I am sorry,” Doris blushed. “Now I feel bad for going first.” “Don’t,” Calliope whimpered, openly holding herself. “We let you. Besides, just like I anticipated, you were in and out. Besides, I wanted to thank you… Truthfully, Apollo didn’t have an intermission scheduled. We are so happy you spoke up! If you hadn’t, we wouldn’t have had the chance to pee at all!” Doris radiated with pleasure at hearing these words. “Well, you are quite welcome. Great show, again. And thanks again,” Doris waved goodbye and then returned to the concert area leaving five struggling muses behind her. Melpomene’s posterior hit the toilet with so much force, that in itself caused a bang! Then, there was a PSSSSSSHHH! The stream was so powerful, it burned Melopeme’s pee hole as it fired out. The tragedy goddess moaned, slumping her head against the wall. Her short dark brown hair fell in her face like a curtain. Tears welled her sky blue eyes. Her chest moved in and out like a ball passing between two players. Melopeme slumped on the bowl. She hissed and she gushed. Her internal water level went down and for once, the depressing goddess of drama and tragedy felt relieved! Melpomene felt guilty having been so ill-mannered with Doris. But she had to pee! Whatever, Melpomene didn’t care. This sensation between her legs felt too good to care about anything! Calliope shuffled her legs, keeping her hands firm in place. Eterupe kept crossing and uncrossing as she hobbled in place. Thalia leaned against the wall of one of the potties and repeatedly slapped the wall behind her, moaning as she did so. Polyhymnia - still on the ground - now lay on her side, her hands inside her toga, causing the fabric to wrinkle. Her face was so scrunched up, it looked ready to explode. Terpsichore (loving dance) decided to make a dance of this. She held her genitalia in both hands and skipped in place while sliding her teeth across her lip like a kazoo. Her lengthy blonde hair leapt up and down with her movements. Suddenly, the last person the muses wanted to see appeared. Apollo came over. “There you ladies are. You disappeared. What’s going on? You warming up,” Apollo looked them over. “No, Apollo,” Calliope said, losing her patience as well. “We are not warming up. We must… Take care of our godly business.” Apollo nodded. “So, I see. Why didn’t you go before the show?” “Aside from the fact you moved the time,” Calliope said through grit teeth. “You know it takes us gods forever to take a piss!” “So, I see,” Apollo scratched his chin. “Well, I hate to see you go on stage looking like that. But Zeus is getting rather impatient.” “Zeus is always impatient,” Polyhymnia grunted under her breath. “We will be fine, Lord Apollo,” Calliope insisted. “How much longer is the intermission?” “Ten minutes.” The muses shifled groans. They knew they could not wait that long. Nor could they completely drain their bladders in that short amount of time. And even then, Clio, Erato, and Melpomene have been inside the stalls for ten minutes now and they showed no signs of emerging. “Please try and get back as soon as possible,” was all Apollo said before leaving. The muses hated this so much. Not only were they still bursting full of piss, but now both Apollo and Doris knew of there rather embarrassing situation. “Ladies, I cannot hold much longer,” Thalia whimpered, staggering on her feet. “We have to,” Calliope said. “No, no. No, no, no, no, no,” Thalia repeated. “Normally I can find a joke about anything. But there is nothing funny about this!” With that, the goddess of comedy turned on her heels and as quick as Hermes, dashed behind Melopeme’s porta potty. “Thalia,” Calliope called. “What in the gods’ name…” Her voice was cut off by the splitting sound of a brutal trail of urine. Thalia didn’t care anymore. Her sisters could see, they could join in, but the goddess of comedy was at her limit. And so, Thalia had lifted her golden toga, squatted in the grass behind the final porta potty, and unleashed the gold stewing inside of her. Thalia breathed a heavy, “Whew! Relief!” and slowly allowed her eyes to close as her immortal brian slipped into tranquility. A shower of liquid sprayed from Thalia’s pussy and crashed down into the grass. The earth took in Thalia’s cargo, alleviating her tortured bladder. As she peed, Thalia somehow found this situation comical. How? Why? She hadn’t a clue. But to think she came so close to wetting herself that she had to go behind the porta potty! Perhaps it is a goddess of comedy thing. Either way, Thalia erupted into laughter. She laughed and laughed so hard, she felt her sides sting. Nothing like a great pee to exercise the laughing box! “Guess she couldn’t hold it,” Terpsichore stated. “Neither can I!” Euterpe followed in Thalia’s lead and ducked behind the porta potty on the left. “And then there were three,” Calliope noted, looking at Polyhymnia and Terpichore. Euterpe lifted her periwinkle robes, squatted and… It was music to the music goddess’ ears. An enormous throrrrot was heard. Her urine sound was so distorted, likely from holding for so long. Regardless, it was most certainly the sound of a desperate urination. And as the goddess of music, Euterpe could safely say she had never heard anything so beautiful. Euterpe saw colors. She could hear a choir singing in her brain. Such relief! “Hey, Euterpe,” Thalia laughed. Squatting a mere five or six meters from Euterpe, Thalia waved. “Hey, Thalia,” Euterpe was panting. She could feel the water level inside go down, slowly but surely. And it felt great! Euterpe wished she had her flute so she could play in tune with her urine sounds. That was a good idea, actually. When this was all over, Euteerpe would have to get desperate again and play along with her urination sounds. “Hey, Euterpe,” called the giggly goddess of comedy. “Yes?” replied the music goddess. “I’m peein’,” Thalia twittered. Euterpe rolled her eyes. But relief felt so good, she just had to smile at her sister’s silly behavior. Five minutes left of intermission, Clio exited her stall, looking as cheerful as ever. “Who’s next?” “I am!” Terpsichore pushed past Calliope. Polyhymnia moaned on the floor, but she was far too weak to stand, let alone fight. “Kinda pointless now,” Calliope complained. “We only have five minutes left.” “Maybe so,” Terpsichore snapped back. “But I’m gonna drain every last drop I can!” “Hope you can stop, though,” Calliope warned. Terpsichore knew her sister had a point. Given her godly bladder and how long she has held it, Terpsichore knew there was no way she would be able to unload all of her freight within five minutes. She probably wouldn’t even drain a quarter, But she also knew every drop she did get out would make her feel better. And if she couldn’t stop… She would figure it out then. Terpsichore was counting on voiding a good percentage of her bladder so she may continue on the rest of the concert. It was worth a shot. Better than todally pissing herself like poor Urania. And so, the goddess of dance shut herself in the stall. Terpsichore crashed down on the bowl, her pure white toga on her knees as her sphincter could no longer withstand the pressure and a river circulated into the toilet bowl below her. Terpsichore buried her face in her knees, arching her back. She screamed into her toga. It just felt sooo good, she could not help it. A colossal weight was lifted from her. No better sound than that all too familiar, incredibly lovely riiisssh sound filled the porta potty. Terpsichore was so overjoyed, she wanted to dance! And not the potty dance either! She was thinking more of an open turn with a pirouette with a lock step sprinkled in. It would be her victory dance. Because she made it! She knew she wouldn’t empty it all. Not by a long shot. But she was already feeling a lot better. Three minutes left of intermission. Clio went back to inform Apollo of their situation. Maybe he could extend the intermission for them. Didn’t hurt to ask. Polyhymnia was now in a seated position on the grass. She rocked on her butt, moaning. Her face was beaded with sweat and her hands were so far in her neithers, they appeared to have vanished from sight. Polyhymnia’s face was beat red and she had long flowing rivers of tears from her eyes. Her skin was crawling and prickling with imaginary bugs. But Polyhymnia did not dare remove her hands to scratch her painful skin. Calliope had thought she was desperate! But just looking down at her poor sister, she could sense she was on the verge of losing all control. Polyhymnia opened her mouth and the largest, scariest, most powerful string of curses Calliope had ever witnessed came flying from her. Standing on one foot with a hand against her ladies, Calliope covered her mouth to hide a smile. “Polyhymnia, are you sure you are the goddess of sacred poems and songs?” Calliope teased. More curse words. “Screw it!” Polyhymnia squatted where she was. Yanking her crystal green toga up, she popped a squat and… PSSSSSSHHHH sounded her hot, heavy, stream of gold and pain. The stream was like a geyser. Too much pressure and it all popped out. Polyhymnia was all curses and sweat. “That feels sooo fucking good! I never have had to fucking piss so bad in my Gods damn life! I was going to fucking barf from how badly I had to piss!” “Glad you feel better,” which was more than Calliope could say for herself. Thalia and Euterpe were bad enough. But watching one of her sisters pee right in front of her, not even bothering to cover up… Calliope could feel all the nectar go straight from her kidneys to her bladder. If it wasn’t there already, that is. Polyhymnia gushed for a very long moment. Then the stall door behind her tried to open, but it only bumped into the goddess of sacred poems and songs. Melopeme was attempting to exit until she noticed her sister blocking the way. “DON’T MOVE ME!” Polyhymnia uproar. “Okay…” Melopeme made the wise decision to wait in her stall. Great! Calliope thought to herself. Now Polyhymnia is blocking Melopeme, so I can’t pee! Just as well. Like I told Terpsichore, I wouldn’t have much time now anyway. Only two more minutes until intermission is up. Perhaps I can wait another hour… Calliope knew her chances of that were unlikely. But she still had one last hope. Perhaps Clio would have luck with convincing Apollo to give them a few more minutes. Eventually, intermission was up. Calliope feared they would have to return soon. Just at that moment, Apollo came racing down the hill with Clio in toe. Calliope crossed her fingers, begging the gods for good news. Just as Apollo and Clio reached them, Erota exited her stall. After a twenty some minute piss, the goddess of love poetry looked a lot healthier. “Guys, I am so sorry,” Apollo said. Not what Calliope had been hoping for, it sounded like. “But as I said, Zeus is growing rather impatient…” “Tell Zeus to wait!” Polyhymnia wailed, mid stream. Apollo flinched. Partly due to watching one of his muses pee before his very eyes. But mostly because no one spoke about the king of the gods like that. “Why don’t you tell him that, Polyhymnia,” Apollo challenged. “I double dog dare you!” Polyhymnia backed off. Polyhymnia wanted to finish her pee. But not that bad to stand up to Zeus. Polyhymnia muttered how her father was a pain in the neck. “Hey, just like Zeus is all of your father, he is my father too,” Apollo pointed out. “No one knows how… Difficult he is, that I… But that does not change the fact he wants you all back right now!” “Did you tell him of our… Situation?” Calliope asked. “I did. He doesn’t care.” “Of course not! Why would he?” “Anyway, we must head back soon,” Apollo said as quickly as his voice would allow. “Who still has to go?” “I am the only one who has not gone at all,” Calliope danced. “Polyhymnia just started a few minutes ago. Terpsichore is in the john now, going. And Thalia and Euterpe are behind the porta potties going right now.” Apollo blinked. “Why didn’t you all pee outside from the start? I mean, no one else is around?” “It was a last resort for some of us, Apollo,” Calliope snapped. “You know, peeing outside isn’t the easiest thing for a girl to do!” “Riiiight,” Apollo repeated. “Why did you not just change form, though?” “What?” “Well, you are goddesses.” “Right! As in female!” “With abilities. Such as shapeshifting!” Apollo spelled out. “Why didn’t you just change into dudes to go?” It was Calliope’s turn to blink in astonishment. Why hadn’t she thought of that from the start! How she would have loved to pee out here with a penis! Calliope slapped her noggin in frustration. “Didn’t think of it, did yeh?” Apollo asked smugly, with his arms crossed. “No, Apollo, we did not think of it!” Calliope snapped back. “When your bladder is this full and messing with your brain, you don’t always think of stuff like that!” Clio piped up, “As I say all the time, can’t undo the past. I know! I rule over history! That said…” Clio coughed into her fist and looked to the sun god. “What do we do?” “I blame Hephestus!” Calliope cried. “Hephestus? What did he do?” Apollo wondered. “He only made three porta potties!” The goddess of epic poetry wailed. “Does he not realize us gods can store a lot in our tanks and hence take a while to alleviate ourselves?” Apollo could not deny, Calliope’s surge of anger was scaring him slightly. And yet, he was also slightly turned on. “I’ll make sure Hephestus gets the massage,” was all Apollo said on that. “And PS, Calliope… You are hot when you get mad.” “Shush!” Snapped the goddess of epic poetry. “Don’t be creepy, Apollo. This is why people assume Orpheus is our son!” This was a common misunderstanding. Everyone assumed the famous hero Orpheus is the son of Apollo and Calliope. This should be proven untrue given the fact that if two gods had a child, that child would be a god. But Orpheus walked among mortals as a demigod. Orpheus was Calliope’s son, and he was her pride and joy. But Orpheus’ father wasn’t Apollo. It was Oeagrus the King of Thrace. Orpheus was named after Oeagrus for crying out loud! Besides, if Orpehus was truly Calliope’s son with Apollo, that would make his marriage weird. Orpheus married Eurydice, daughter of Apollo. It would have been weird for him to marry his half-sister. Then again, it works for the gods. Why not demigods? Still, with all of Apollo’s constant flirting, it was easy to see why people would mistake him for the father of Calliope’s child. “We must return to the concert, huh?” Calliope squirmed, doing her best to let her anger at Apollo dissolve and to get back on track. Apollo frowned. “Afraid so.” “Ladies,” the epic poem goddess cried. “Pack it up. We have a second half of the performance to give!” While Apollo apologized to the audience - mostly Zeus - for the delay, the muses came back together backstage. Calliope was still busy doing the full on potty dance. Polyhymnia was squirming slightly, but having gotten the initial pressure off, she wasn’t nearly as bad as Calliope. Thalia and Euterpe were right as rain! Both goddesses still had to pee, but having spent nearly ten minutes pissing a piece, they were doing much better and were fully confident that they could hold until the end of the concert. Terpsichore - just as she had hoped - got out a decent chunk of her bladder and would also be fine for the rest of the concert. The rest of the muses were one hundred percent voided and much happier and healthier. Urania had changed into a fresh toga she had gotten from her bedroom on Olympus via teleporting there. “You could hardly see the wet stain since my togas are all black anyway,” Urania informed her sisters. “But it was all gross so I decided to change.” “Good. That way they won’t smell the pee too,” Clio added. “Sorry you wet yourself,” Erato said. Urania shrugged. “Better than doing it on stage. Besides… It felt gooood!” Her sisters laughed. “But I kid you not girls, I spent eighteen minutes of intermission straight up pissing like never before.” Her sisters gasped, muttering in shock. Eighteen minutes was rather long, even for an extremely full godly bladder. It wasn’t unheard of, but not super common either. It would be like if a mortal peed for five minutes. It can happen, but not super likely. “For the gods’ sack, Urania,” Euterpe exclaimed. “Guess you really did have to go!” “I still can’t believe I peed longer than Melopeme,” Erato stated. “I thought I had to go worse than I. But I was in that stall for several minutes more than she was in hers.” “I had to piss!” Melopeme cried. “Oh, and speaking of, I wrote a poem about the erotic feeling that comes with emptying a full bladder,” Erato mentioned. “Mind if I read it to you girls later?” They all muttered happily in agreement. “You wrote that on the toilet?” Thalia laughed, finding this - as well as most things - amusing. “Sure did,” said the love poetry goddess proudly. “Guys,” Calliope snapped, legs crossed. “Don’t mean to be a jerk, but remember… I haven’t peed at all! And I am trying not to think about it!” “I hardly peed too,” Polyhymnia asserted. Calliope huffed. “You were a straight waterfall for over three minutes, you’re fine!” “That wasn’t nearly…” Their argument was cut off as they heard Apollo call, “Once again, we have… THE NINE MUSES!” Nine songs down and four left to go. The muses wondered if the crowd noticed they were a lot more energetic for the second half. Minus Calliope that is, who seemed much more frantic. Calliope kept missing the high notes. She was too busy stumbling around to sing. Her mind was completely off her music and on the growing pain inside her pelvis. Her sisters did their best to hide this by forming a tighter ring around Calliope. Calliope feared the worst. She could barely think or sing. She may have to face a humiliating accident. Song ten was down. Three left. Calliope could feel (whatever room remained inside her bladder) getting smaller and smaller with every passing moment. In panic, Calliope realized that her bladder was bulging far from her chest. She began to dread people asking her if she was pregnant afterwards. They probably wouldn’t because godly pregnancies are… Complicated. Still, Calliope’s bladder was so large, it looked the size of a discus. And those things are massive! Her bladder was as hard as one too. In tehri tight circle, Calliope bumped into Urania and she almost screamed from the pain of the astronomy goddess pressing into her most sensitive of bladders. Please bladder, just stay with me, Calliope begged silently. Only two more songs to go after this one. Please just hang on… But it was a losing battle. Assuming things ended happily, Calliope would have to write her urinary sphincter a poem after this, Cause today, it was a hero! Calliope doubted even Hercules could hold the weight of her bladder right now. Even Atlas would crumble at the sheer poundage she held onto. And his job was literally to hold the sky! No longer thinking about it - as the epic poetry goddess had initially planned - was no longer an option. She was thinking about it! It was all she was thinking about! And that babbling stream in the distance was not helping! Nor was watching Poseidon make small waves from his trident as he swayed to the beat. And this movement certainly was not helping! Just the opposite in fact. Sure, dancing was mainly Terpschiore’s department, but all of the muses had to dance around to some extent. At the least, they had to bob up and down to their song. And with each step she took, Calliope was getting closer and closer to breaking. Yet through all of this, Calliope didn’t do so much as squirt. But she felt it coming. Song eleven ended. Two remained. Calliope doubted Zeus would allow them another bathroom break. Interestingly, Zeus was the first to suggest - rather threaten Apollo - into giving an intermission before. But that was to please Doris. The gods were big on guests. And this concert was in honor of Doris’ daughter who was getting married. Zeus only said yet to an intermission before to honor his guests. He would not allow one for Calliope’s needs. Calliope was said to have the most beautiful voice in all of Greece. But with an excruciating full bladder, she sounded like a dying mule with allergies and was as graceful as one too. As the twelfth song drew to a close, Polyhymnia’s bladder was also making its presence well known to her yet again. Thanks to those three moments of relief, Polyhymnia was able to ignore her bladder up until now. But now, the beast came back at her with full force. Polyhymnia followed in Calliope’s lead and began to stumble around as well. This was just perfect! Both of the two singers in the group looked as if they spent way too much time at Dionysus’ last shindig. Their sisters were forced to move in even tighter, now having to hide two desperate singers from the crowd’s gaze. It felt like an eternity, the notes slowly passing by, but at long last, Calliope hit the final note. The crowd applauded. Calliope could no longer stand it! She turned, hands grasping her goddesshood, and she bolted off stage. Seeing Calliope go, Polyhymnia decided it was safe for her to leave as well. So, she followed her sister off stage. Calliope felt her hefty bladder jiggling as she hurtled off stage. Calliope could no longer move. It was on the brisk of escape. Calliope stopped, not caring who saw, yanked up her lapis colored toga and let loose. She didn’t even bother to squat. A thick stream of piss shattered through the epic poetry goddess’ pussy lips. The stream broke apart upon exit and slid down her tall legs, connecting and intersecting like complex rivers as they feel to the floor. Calliope felt her toes get bathed in her bodily nectar before the piss made its final home in the grassy floor below her. Polyhymnia, also having gotten tired of this, squatted down besides her sister, holding her crystal green toga firmly in both hands, bend her knees and aimed her vulva into the grass. Polyhymnia’s stream stormed past her labia and flew in a forty-five degree arch onto the earth behind the stage. The goddesses hoped the earth mother, Gaia would forgive them. But this was an emergency! The two sighed, relieved to finally unpack the discomfort that has been building inside for seven long days now. The rest of the muses gathered around to watch their sisters lose all control. Now that she was a bit more calm, Calliope decided to try something she has always been curious about. She placed two fingers on either side of her vulva and pulled it upwards. The streams left Calliope’s legs (more or less) and Calliope aimed her pussy in front of her where her stream touched down into the soil. Calliope smirked, wishing she did this an hour ago. Apollo appeared. “Excellent show, ladies!” The sun god cried. “And no one is any wiser as to what happened here today.” “Except Zeus,” Clio said. “Right. Except Zeus.” “And Doris,” added in Melopeme. “And Doris.” “And anyone Zeus and or Doris told,” Terpsichore put in. Apollo hesitated. “I may have to do damage control,” he decided. “Take care ladies! Great performance!” And Apollo waved goodbye to his friends and returned to the adoring crowd. “The girls and I are gonna head back to Olympus,” Terpsichore said. “After all, Thalia, Euterpe, and I still have some left in the tanks if you know what I mean.” “I do,” panted Calliope. “See you there… Oh, and PS… I win!” The muses muttered in confusion, glancing at one another to see if anyone understood Calliope’s last remark. “I win,” the epic poem goddess repeated. “Our holding contest. I won. I was the last to pee.” “What, no! I was the last to pee,” Polyhymnia hissed. Calliope gave her sister a rueful look. “Sorry, sis, but no… You peed quite a bit before. While we were waiting, right before intermission ended.” “Only for three minutes,” the sacred song and poem goddess argued back. “Right, but you drained enough to allow you to carry on for an additional hour,” Calliope pointed out. “I didn’t let out a single squirt since this whole thing started!” No one looked happy about it, they had to accept defeat and announce Calliope as the winner. It was strange. The muses had forgotten all about their silly contest. But now, the other eight were sad to have lost. “I do have to hand it to you though, Calliope,” said Clio. “I have no idea how you managed to hold it the entire concert without even squirting! Even for an immortal, that is tough!” “I told you girls,” Calliope winked. “I have the best voice and the best bladder!”
Hey everyone! Thank you all so, so much for the feedback and the wonderful comments! I am so happy this thread is so popular! I wrote a story about the charities, also known as the Graces, the goddesses of festivity, joy, and bueaty. They are some of my favorite mythological characters. Warning: This story contains female nudity/urination/desperation as well as (very little) masturbation, so if you are uncomfortable with any of those things, please do not read this story! I also wrote several more stories about other minor goddesses like Iris, Hecate, Elithyia, Psyche, etc. Let me know if you want me to post those stories as well. (I probably will, lol!) After downing gallons upon gallons of nectar, placing entire barrels of the delicious yellow drink into their systems, the three charities charged through the brush, desperate to find a place to relieve themselves. There was Thalia the oldest, the goddess of festivities and banquets. There was of course Euphrosyne the goddess of laughter, cheer, and joy. And the youngest was Aglaea the goddess of beauty, glory, splendor, and adornment who was also the second wife of the forge god Hephestus. The trio of sisters raced through the woods, grasping at their bare vulvas, and laughing as they went. The three sisters were completely and utterly nude. The charities - unlike the other gods - disliked clothing and found it restricting. They much rather would have their boobs bouncing freely below them and their vulvas licking the wind. Even as they lugged around bladders that weighed ten pounds a piece, the goddesses of cheer couldn't help but giggle and laugh. Although, that was probably on account of what they were about to do. Falling against a tree, having been knocked over by her bladder, Aglaea squirmed and wiggled, her bare back digging into the rough bark. It was a cool day. The leaves rustled in the soft wind and Apollo’s sun chariot was as bright as ever. Birds chirped and reed pipes played over the hills. The charities could not have asked for a better day. Bending her knees in and out repeatedly, Aglaea’s desperate gaze landed upon a clearing. The clearing contained a large pond and was secluded by a circle of reeds, tall thickets, and trees on all sides. “Oh, ladies,” Aglaea giggled, calling to her sisters. “I think we found our spot.” The three immortal ladies stood ankle deep in the water. The waves of the lake sent stabbing pain and a prickling sensation to the charities’ vulvas and bladders. The naked women jiggled in the lake, water splashing at their feet, their small breasts bouncing around, hands squeezing their small pussies for dear life. The three graces stood side by side in the water. They stood oldest to youngest going from left to right. “After that banquet of beverages, I’m bursting for a piss! Know what I’m saying,” Thalia giggled to her sisters. “I know what you mean,” Euphrosyne exclaimed, moving her knees up and down so quickly, water splashed as high as her skinny thighs. “I gotta tinkle so bad,” Aglaea whined, holding her lady bits with her hand bent at a funny angle while keeping her knee pressed straight into her vagina. “Ready?” Thalia asked. “Ready,” Euphrosyne agreed. “Ready,” stated Aglaea. Together, the three sisters instantly stopped squirming and dropped one hand to their sides and used the other to support their vulva into a pointed position. At the exact same time, three nearly identical trails of urine sped from the charities’ vulvas. Still standing, the charities’ urethras all widened allowing rivers of nectar to flow from their immortal bodies, shot in a slope through the skies, and crash down into the water below them. The trio sighed with bliss. “I’m gonna pee the longest,” Aglaea giggled. “We’ll see about that,” Thalia warned. “I really had to go,” Euphorosyne laughed. The three goddesses stood side by side as they allowed their bladders to drain straight into the lake water. The water rippled as three urine streams splashed against its surface. With her free hand, Thalia rubbed her bulge like a mother expecting a child. Euphorosyne held her head back and whistled with joy. Aglaea moved her pussy lips around, making shapes with her urine in the water. Interestingly, despite drinking the approximate same amount, their streams were different shades. Euphroosyne’s stream was a deep yellow while Thalia’s was pale and Aglaea’s was as clear as water. The three goddesses of cheer giggled as they gushed away their bladders’ burdens into the lake. The water rippled and a very loud gurgling sound was heard below them. The charities stood in the lake peeing and peeing and peeing some more. At one point, Euphosyne’s stream stopped but she instantly restarted, giggling, “Oh, second wind incoming!” A few more minutes of insane giggles, and a loud rumble was heard behind Aglaea. “Oh, my,” the goddess of splendor held a hand to her mouth, trying to appear embarrassed - even though she was not in the slightest. “What’s wrong, Aglaea, ate too many beans!” Thalia laughed so hard, her stream rocketed to the opposite end of the pond. “Hey, save distance for the next challenge,” Euphrosyne scolded between laughs. The three graces happily peed into the water together. Between three very full godly bladders, the graces peed so much that the lake water itself became a vast shade of yellow. This only made the graces laugh even harder. “You… You think we… We’re now standing in our own… Our own pee?” Aglaea laughed. “Yep,” Thalia wailed. “Oh, man,” she wiped a tear from her eye. “Good times…” Euphorsyne’s concentration was fixed on keeping her stream strong. The charities have been peeing for a very long time and their bladder bumps were pretty much gone at this point. Euphorsyne was the first to feel her bladder deflate back into a small pear shaped organ. The goddess of joy silently begged her bladder to keep peeing. Just a little longer. Her bladder just had to hold up. Euphorsyne refused to lose to her sisters! Euphorsyne knew she didn’t drink enough… A couple minutes passed. Euphorsyne’s stream went on and off as the goddess of cheer struggled to drain as much as possible. “Slowing down there,” Thalia laughed beside her. “She’s almost out of ammo!” Aglaea wailed with excitement. “No,” Euphorsyne denied what was obviously false. “I got loads more in the tank!” “Uh-huh…” Aglaea muttered. “We can literally see your stream ending,” Thalia cried. “We are standing right here, you know.” “No, it isn’t,” fibbed Euphorsyne. Even as she said this, her stream ended. The goddess of joy quickly pushed down as hard as she could. A quick two second stream was ejected from her now fully voided bladder. Euphrosyne’s labia dripped away the final drops. And Euphrosyne lost the first game! “Blast,” cursed the goddess of joy before shaking her pussy dry and then stepping out of the lake. This left Thalia and Aglaea, both of whom still had very strong streams. Several more minutes passed by. While the two remaining contestants peed away their giant piss tanks, Euphrosyne lounged on a rock and played with her soft breasts, cupping each one in her hands and giving it a gentle squeeze. Eventually, Aglaea gritted her teeth, grunting and groaning. “Running low?” Thalia teased. Aglaea felt her face go hot. She hates losing! Especially to her eldest sister. “No,” she lied. “Then what’s with the look of concentration?” Before Aglaea even had a chance to answer, Thalia continued, “See, look at my face… I am perfectly relaxed because I know I have a lot left! Trust me, sweet heart, I do not need to worry about running out of this sweet, sweet nectar any time soon!” Aglaea wished she had more hands so she could cover her ears. Thalia was just trying to get inside the goddess of glory’s head. But dread washed over Aglaea like her urine over lake water. The goddess of splendor was well aware that her bladder was almost dried up. She didn’t know how much longer she could pee. Yet, she continued pushing, praying Thalia would run low soon. But Thalia showed no signs. Thalia peed like a primordial god who held it in since the dawn of time. Aglaea begged her kidneys to add more fluids to her downstairs area. But by this time, it was more than likely all of the nectar she drank had already filtered through her bean shaped organs. Aglaea might lose… And she did. Aglaea’s stream soon ended, her bladder was dry as a bone picked clean by vultures. “Oh, well,” Aglaea put on her ‘gracious loser’ face. The goddess of glory placed a finger to her clit and began shaking. This did two things. One, it shook off the remaining drops of urine that still drip, drip, dripped from in between her thighs. And two, it turned Aglaea on. Once her pussy was all dry (dry of urine that is) Aglaea returned to shore to get working on masturbating. As Euphorsyne played with her tiny tits and Aglaea flicked her bean with all of her immortal strength, Thalia pissed like never before. Thalia’s powerful jet of gold blasted down into the lake, lasting so long that Aglaea managed to cum… Twice. Thalia’s bladder had always been the largest! And this was the proof. Thalia’s steam soon ended and the final of the graces went to the lake bed to meet up with her sisters. Euphrosyne lounged in the sun, twirling her long pecan hair. Aglaea sat criss-cross applesauce on a flat boulder, swaying back and forth with excitement. “Looks like I won!” Thalia pumped her fists into the air. “The first challenge, there are two more,” Euphrosyne added quickly. “And I am looking forward to the next one,” Aglaea said. The goddess of festivities rubbed her hands together. “I look forward to winning.” Two weeks later, the graces crept behind some bushes. Apollo would be driving his sun chariot through the sky and would therefore be away from his archery range. It was daytime and the graces had the targets in sight. Time for the second challenge! When they were sure Apollo wasn’t around, the charities emerged from their hiding spots. The three naked goddesses had three incredibly bloated bellies. Even as they ran, they heard distinctive sloshing sounds coming from their boiling hot bladders. But the three continued to hold back the flood. The graces had spent the past two weeks drinking as much water, wine, and nectar as their immortal bodies could stomach. They could barely hold back anymore. It was time to release the urine. Once again, the three goddesses stood side by side going oldest to youngest, left to right. Standing before them were countless targets. Each grace stood before a target that had two other targets behind it, each one going at a farther ways away. The close target was ten meters away. The middle one was fifteen meters and the far one was twenty-five meters. “Okay,” Thalia danced. “For this challenge, ladies, the goal is to hit the farthest target and get a bullseye. Whoever gets closest wins. It is also who hits the target first wins. And remember, it is not about distance, it is about aim. So, I hope your aim is true.” “Thanks, Thalia,” Aglaea smiled. “And of course, when I say ‘your aim is true’, I really mean mine,” Thalia snickered. Euphrosyne happily hit her older sister across the arm. “Okay,” Aglaea said quickly. “My bladder truly can’t hold any longer,” Aglaea felt her ocean of urine surge towards the exit and quickly wedged a hand between her slim thighs to stop it. “I just gotta let it out, girls.” “Me too,” Euphrosyne agreed, moving her feet in careful patterns. “Then, let the second challenge begin!” Thalia cried. And with that, all three charities once again rested one hand at their side and used the second hand to pull their pussies higher. The trio took aim and fired. Three long streams of piss rocketed from the goddesses’ genitals. Once again, their pee holes expanded and allowed long squirts of piss to exit. Given how much pressure the trio had on their bladders, it was no surprise that their streams were extra powerful. The three urine streams flew through the skies and sailed towards Apollo’s targets. In the bright light of day, the graces once again noticed the differences in their streams. Euphrosyne’s stream was the clearest this time. Thalia’s was a tad darker and Aglaea’s urine was a bright yellow. Euphrosyne’s pee river hit the bullseye of the closest target. Thalia’s steam hit the farthest northwest outer part of the middle target. Aglaea’s stream rained down on the magpie of the close target. The godly girls giggled and grit their gums in concentration. The graces continued to adjust their streams accordingly. Thalia moved lower, allowing her urine to fall upon the inner circle of the middle target. Aglaea, meanwhile, decided not to waste time on the close target and instead arched her back and pulled her pussy, allowing her stream to shoot past the middle target. Aglaea’s fountain landed somewhere beyond the far target. The goddess of glory struggled to pull her steam back. That left Euphrosyne who was busy sending her urine stream to the middle target. Euphrosyne was determined to hit every bullseye, not just the far one. Euphrosyne’s stream landed in the grass beside her middle target. The goddess of laughter’s stream just fizzed on the ground until she manovered her labia to send her stream gushing straight onto the west outer ring of the middle target. The goddesses spent several minutes as their bladders drained, dousing Apollo’s targets in piss. Euphrosyne’s stream landed on the bullseye of the middle target and the laughter goddess moved onto the final target. Aglaea’s urine stream hissed straight onto the rubber of the western magpie ring of the far target. Thalia had managed to get her stream onto the far target. But Thalia ended up shooting her piss too far and was now unintentionally peeing onto a tree trunk over forty meters away. Too bad. If this was distance, Thalia might have this in the bag. But as it is, this is aiming. The three continued peeing, allowing their bladders to reduce in size bit by bit. Thalia’s stream landed on the leg of the final target. Euphrosyne hosed down the southern outer circle of the final target. Aglaea tried to move her stream to the bullseye of the final target. The goddess of glory could smell victory! But unfortunately for her, she ended up moving her steam too far and it flew into the air, making an arch, and crashing to the ground beyond the final target. The entire time, the three sisters stayed focused on their work. All three of them were extra tempted to look at one another to see how they were doing. But they refused to take their eyes off of their own stream for even a second. Suddenly, Euphrosyne shouted, “Victory!” Both Thalia and Aglaea’s heads snapped in the middle sister’s direction. Euphrosyne’s golden waterway was directly splattering against the bullseye of the twenty-five meter far target. “No,” Thalia whined. “You cheat,” cried Aglaea. “Nope. Just got skill,” Euphrosyne smiled proudly as she held perfectly still and allowed the rest of her bladder to drain straight onto the final target of the range. “Well, we may have lost,” Aglaea said. “But I am personally interested in seeing if I can beat the target.” “Me too,” Thalia said. And so the sisters kept peeing. Thalia soon ran empty and cursed, silently stepping away. Euphrosyne was the next to run out. The goddess of cheer emptied herself onto the final bullseye and left the range with a wide goofy grin. Aglaea managed to place her stream onto the inner ring of the final target. But as she did so, her stream began to die down. The low pressure of the urine caused her stream to retract and soon Aglaea found herself peeing the final few drops of her bladder at her bare feet. Aglaea scratched her right boob and turned to follow her sisters, her pussy still dripping with piss. The graces laughed and laughed. “So, I won the first challenge and Euphrosyne won the second,” the goddess of festivities stated. “That just leaves one left. And it is arguably the most exciting of them all!” On that note, the three charities skipped away, laughing, wondering if Apollo would return and be angry that his targets were covered in pee. Probably. They also wondered if Apollo could see them from his sun chariot. Also probably. Two more weeks passed. Once again, the graces had spent those weeks drinking as many fluides as they could ingest. And now they all wanted out. The graces came to another pond (not the same one they used as a toilet in the first challenge). The graces once again stood ankle deep in water. Just standing in the water was enough to send stabbing pains to their bladders that continued to request a nice voiding session. But the graces all denied their urge to micturate. Instead, the trio of sister goddesses stood in the water, their stomachs bulging so far past their faces, they could have been used as nightstands to hold glasses of water and lamps. The very thought made the trio tremble. The garces’ navels all stood out against the flesh of their fat tummies. Their bladders were as round as the wheels of a chariot and as hard as the skull of a giant. The trio quaked and wobbled around the water. The three goddesses went extra heavy with the liquid intake over the past two weeks. While they held it for the same amount of time as the rest of their challenges, they drank nearly double the amount. Their bladders ballooned outwards. They felt as if all the pressure of all the world’s oceans was resting on their sphincter muscles. Perfect for the final game! “Okay,” Thalia addressed her sisters, stumbling around the water. “For the final challenge, we hold and see who can last longest.” “You forgot the best part,” Aglaea giggled. “Right, we bounce against one another, trying to make each other lose,” Thalia grimaced from the weight she carried around inside. “My bladder is so full,” Euphrosyne moaned, running her hands over her rock-hard bladder bulge. “Let’s do this!” “And remember,” Thalia added. “No using your hands or your feet to knock each other down. Just your bladders,” The three sisters began to circle each other like a gang of robbers attacking an innocent citizen. Then out of nowhere, they charged. Their six feet cut through the water, sending out small waves below their feet. Gallons of drink bounced inside their guts. The three graces met and rammed theri bladder bulges into one another. The three sisters feel back, grasping themselves in pain. They charged again, pushing their bladders into each other like a bladder version of a chicken fight. The three colossal bladders banged back and forth against one another like billiard balls. The three goddesses moaned and placed firm hands in their goddesshoods before attacking again. Aglaea bounced her bladder off of Thalia. Thalia fell back into Euphrosyne who smashed her bladder against Thalia’s. Thalia stumbled, the impact of her sister’s boulder-like bladder caused the goddess of festivities to leak a bit. Thalia - more determined than ever now - ran at Euphrosyne. Euphrosyne side stepped Thalia’s attack, allowing Thalia to run straight past her. Euphrosyne - satisfied with her moves - didn’t notice Aglaea advancing on her until it was too late. Aglaea’s bladder battered against Euphrosyne's. Euphrosyne managed to regain her footing and pushed back against Aglaea’s bladder with equal force. Euphrosyne and Aglaea both clenched their muscles with nothing but sheer will as their bladder bumps interlocked in competition. Aglaea and Euphrsoyne’s boobs also pressed against each other so each goddess could feel her sister’s nipples digging into her skin. Thalia charged through the water, her feet moving in great strides as she brought her own bulge down upon her sisters. Thalia’s bulge was so great and she delivered such force that both of her sisters were knocked from their feet and flew backwards. Euphrosyne fell on her butt causing a wave of water to wash over her hair, face, legs, and bladder. Euphrosyne felt herself leak into the water from the impact. Aglaea meanwhile managed to steady herself, but she continued to wobble, not having the best footing. Thalia flew towards Aglaea. Agleae finally managed to regain her footing and charged at Thalia. The two goddesses met, their bulges banged into one another, condensing each one. Thalia felt a dribble roll down her bare legs. The two goddesses backed up and then went at each other like a bullfighter and a bull. Their bladders collided and threw both graces back. Yet they charged at each other once more. Still in the water, Euphrosyne lay on her side, allowing Thalia to trip over the goddess of laughter’s giant bulge. Thalia fell over Euphrosyne’s piss belly and crashed into the water, landing straight on her own bladder. Thalia’s bladder ended up getting sandwiched between the lake floor and Thalia’s weight. This pressure was enough to cause the goddess of festivities to leak a five second long urine stream. Euphrosyne was back on her feet. Aglaea advanced on her. Euphrosyne played defensive, continuously moving out of Aglaea’s way. Feeling ready to leak herself, Aglaea took a pause to hold her hairless pussy. Euphrosyne took this as her opening and flew across the lake towards her younger sister. Euphrosyne’s bladder rammed against Aglaea’s so hard, Aglaea flew backwards through the air. Aglaea being a graceful grace, managed to do a flip in the air and land on her feet. But twirling around as she did caused Aglaea’s pee contents to flip upside down and back again. Agleae squeezed herself, silently praying to her bladder to stay with her. Thalia rose shakily to her feet. Thalia’s bladder was extra heavy now. The urine was so condensed inside, it hurt incredibly bad. But Thalia couldn’t lose. If she won this final game, she won the entire competition. She had to keep going! Thalia stood trembling as Euphrosyne sprinted over the water towards her older sister. Thalia stepped to the side, trembling as she did so. Euphrosyne - anticipating this - also stepped to the side, allowing her bladder to sweep Thalia off her feet and cause the goddess of festivity to fall to the ground, water splashing around her for a second time. Euphrosyne went in for her final move. Thalia lay on her back, her mountain of a bladder standing high up into the air. Euphrosyne lifted a foot and stepped onto her sister’s bulge. “N… No feet, no feet!” Thalia cried, her voice trembling. Euphrosyne smiled mischievously. “You only said we couldn’t use our feet to knock each other down. Well sis… You are already down for the count.” Fear spread across Thalia’s mind. She was well aware that Euphrosyne was correct. The rules only said the charities could not use their hands or feet to knock each other down. But Thalia was already down. Euphrosyne lowered her foot down. The pressure inside Thalia’s bladder shot as high as the god of air, Aither’s domain. Thalia’s face twisted in pain and agony as the pressure grew higher than the banquet goddess ever thought possible. Still, Thalia held on. Euphrosyne finished her sister off by lifting her second foot and placing that as far down into Thalia’s rock as possible. The goddess of festivity felt her entire sister’s weight crushing her bladder. It was enough to cause Thalia to lose all control. A smile came across Thalia’s face as a yellow cloud appeared in the water below her. And if the graces looked carefully, they could see a swarm of bubbles leaving Thalia’s labia along with a massive stream that shot into the water before fading away. The yellow cloud moved outwards and Thalia moaned with bliss, a stupid smile on her face, her eyebrows relaxed as she emptied herself completely. Thalia still gushing away, Aglaea snuck up behind Euphrosyne and slammed her in her slim and round buttocks with her own bulge. Euphrosyne flew off of Thalia’s bulge and landed a couple of meters away. Aglaea wished she could roundhouse kick Euphrosye’s bladder to get her to go down. But using feet was against the rules. At least when it came to knocking each either down that is. “Just you and me, Aglaea,” Euphrosyne challenged. The two goddesses went back to circling each other while their sister peed and masturbated into the water. Aglaea had to take another quick break to hold herself and bend her one knee into her opposite knee pit. “Looking desperate, Aglaea,” Euphrosyne taunted, intimidating her sister. . The laughter goddess kept her hands out in front of her, ready to block any attack. “I’ll bet you just crave to empty like Thalia’s doing!” “It does feel good,” Thalia moaned, stroking her clit so hard, her stream flew across the underwater portion of the lake, making the yellow cloud grow and shrink. Agleae bent down, grasping her aching vulva. “I can hold,” she said, hoping that was the truth. “Let’s go…” And so, the two remaining charities charged. Their bulges bounced and bobbed off of each other. The two flew around the lake bed, their bladders striking against each other. The two remained locked, pushing their bladders back and forth like a tug-of-war. The two siblings bumped bladders with all their might. “You gonna bust?” Euphrosyne teased, her face right up against Aglaea’s. Again, their small breasts pushed down against one another. “Huh, you gonna break?” “Never!” Aglaea pushed with all of her strength and Euphrosyne stumbled backwards, water splishing and splashing around her ankles. Aglaea ran at her sister. The goddess of glory’s bladder met Euphrosyne’s bulge head-on. Euphrosyne closed her eyes and grit her teeth, wincing from the collision. Before her sister had time to recover, Aglaea rammed herself into Euphrosyne again and again, pushing Euphrosyne farther back. Several small leaks and spurts escaped Euphrosyne’s clenched lips. Euphrosyne continuously worked to get her sphincter to seal itself again, but she was losing the battle with Aglaea and the battle with her bladder. Feeling the temperate lake water below her, Aglaea got an idea. She pushed into Euphrosyne so hard that the goddess of cheer fell backwards. Aglaea lifted her throbbing pussy and careful only to let out a squirt, she allowed herself to leak. Aglaea’s stream rained through the air and landed against Euphrosyne’s fat bulge. Aglaea’s hot urine ran down Euphrosyne’s bump. The steaming warm urine pressed against her already blazing hot bulge made holding back the flood a nightmare for Euphrosyne. Euphrosyne felt herself leaking some more cargo. She now had no choice but to double over and grab her labia in her tight fists. With Euphrosyne down, the goddess of glory went in for the kill. Aglaea bolted towards her older sister and punched her bladder bulge into her sister’s. Euphrosyne felt her bladder beating against her sphincter. Her bladder pounded to be released. And as Euphrosyne felt Aglaea’s bladder thwack against hers, she slid back, not falling down, still standing, but sliding through the mud and water, Euphrosyne felt her bladder’s time was up. Euphrsoyne still stood doubled over, holding herself, as her dam burst. All the water, wine, and nectar the goddess drank voided into the lake below her. Countless streams gushed from the goddess of cheer’s lips down her legs and into the water below. Euphrosyne allowed herself to fall down, giving into the weight of her bladder. Water splashed around the middle sibling as she sat in the water and a deep yellow cloud came from her vulva as well. The goddess of joy felt waves of… Well joy washed over her. Euphrosyne’s relieving piss was the most euphoric feeling the goddess of joy and laughter had ever felt. “I won!” Aglaea leapt into the air, but her pressurized bladder quickly made her regret that decision. “Right, sorry, bladder,” Agleae apologized to her bulge. The goddess of beauty then held her breathtaking vulva as high as it would go and peed standing into the lake below. The goddess sighed as ecstasy filled her mind. Ecstasy at her release but also ecstasy of the knowledge that she won this final challenge. The most powerful stream hissed from in between the thighs of the splendor goddess. Aglaea wished her husband, Hephestus could see this. Aglaea’s stream was even more powerful than Zeus’ lightning bolts. The relief felt good! The trio of sister goddesses sighed of joy and laughed their heads off as they all drained their massively overfilled bladders into the pond. The goddesses peed for so long that it was night time by the time the last of them had finished. The three naked goddesses regrouped back on shore, leaving the pond now tinted with a heavy golden shade of liquid. “So much better,” Thalia moaned. “What a relief,” Euphrosyne scratched her shiny butt cheeks. Aglaea just passed gas again and giggled. “So, I peed the longest,” Thalia said. “I had the best aim,” Euphrosyne said. “And I beat you both in a bladder fight,” Aglaea said. “So…” The three goddesses looked at one another before saying in sync, “I guess we all win!” They laughed and hugged each other, pressing their wet naked bodies against one another. Suddenly, someone emerged from the bushes. It was Aphrodite the goddess of love and beauty. “There my handmaidens are,” Aphrodite cried. “I’ve been searching all over for you three. I have a date with this handsome mortal shepherd named Anchises in a few hours and I need to look hot! Well, I am already hot, but… I need you three to do your thing.” As Aphrodite’s handmaidens, it was quite literally Thalia, Euphrosyne, and Aglaea’s jobs to fix Aphrodite up for any and all dates she had. (And she had a lot of them!) “Shepherd?” Thalia asked. “Really?” “We mean no offense,” Euphrosyne went on. “But that doesn’t really seem like your type of dude,” Aglaea finished. “Yeah, well, Zeus is all pissed off that I always mess with his love life, so he had Hermes steal my girdle… You know, the one that makes people fall in love with each other. Well, Zeus made me fall for Anchises.” The graces looked on to one another then back at their boss. “You know this information and you’re still in love with Anchises?” Thalia asked, confused. Aphrodite shrugged her sexy shoulders. “Even I cannot resist the powers of my girdle. Besides, trust me ladies, Anchises may be a shepherd, but he is one hot hunk of man,” the goddess of love smacked her lips. “Now come, girls. I need my hair done, my make-up done, I need some clothes… Why is that lake yellow?” Aphrodite stared through the darkness of Erebos at the yellow pond. “Um… Lacus the goddess of lakes is trying something new,” Euphrosyne lied. Good enough for Aphrodite, Aphrodite led the charities back to Mount Olympus. As Aphrodite went on and on about all the work she needed done and how little time she had to do it, the three charities turned to one another and covered their mouths to keep from laughing.
This next story is about the minor goddess Hebe goddess of youth and servants. She was also the cupbearer to the gods. Let the record state that in actual mythology, Hebe had tripped and spilled nectar everywhere. Angry at her. Zeus fired Hebe and replaced her with the handsome mortal prince Ganymede. That being said, Hebe is one of my favorite goddesses and I like to believe she eventually became cupbearer to Olympus again. Given Hera's temper toward her husband's lovers, Hera probably discovered Zeus was having an affair with Ganymede and she likely killed him. Therefore, Hebe would have then been asked to return to her post as cupbearer. Anyway here's the story. Enjoy! 🙂 “HEBE!!! WHERE IS THAT NECTAR?!?” Zeus’ voice bellowed from the other room. “C… Coming Lord… Father… Zeus…” Hebe tried her hardest to keep her voice from trembling. But it was difficult when she was in such dire need of… Answering the call of Gaia, mother earth. The goddess of youth mumbled and grumbled under her breath. She leaned against a table and her legs kept kicking out behind her. Hebe tilted an overflowing jar, sending golden nectar pouring from the spout into a goblet. The task was torture! Not only did Hebe have to watch and listen to the flowing of liquids, but it just had to be a liquid that resembled urine! Why couldn’t the gods drink water for once? At this point, Hebe may prefer to handle that substance instead. At least it isn’t that dreaded color yellow… “HEBE! WHERE IS THAT NECTAR!” Zeus shouted again. “About to be in my toga,” Hebe huffed, wrapping her fingers around her crotch. “I AM GROWING IMPATIENT!” Zeus thundered. “You don’t say,” Hebe quietly cursed the lightning god. Hebe stacked her trays high with heavy goblets of golden juices. She then placed each tray on her shoulders, and wobbling like she was on the Argo, Hebe stumbled into the dining area. Gathered around a massive table sat the Olympian gods. Still struggling to stand still, Hebe maneuvered herself down the table, setting down a goblet in front of each god. Just holding the sloshing cup of yellow made Hebe need to clench her muscles with extra force. The youth goddess could feel the coldness of the nectar on her sweaty palms as she handed each god in turn their goblets. “Finally,” Zeus grunted. Sitting on Zeus’ left was his wife, Hera. On his right was Zeus’ own son, Hercules (also known as Hebe’s husband) the god of labor. “What took you so long,” Zeus demanded, his eyes glowing with untapped rage. “You know, dear daughter, when I fired Ganymede as cupbearer to the gods, and replaced him with you,” the way he said you sent shivers down Hebe’s spine. “I expected you to be twice as diligent as he was,” Zeus grunted. “I thought you fired that mortal for me,” Hebe scowled. “Yes, yes,” Zeus waved her aside. “Give her a break, father,” Hercules said in his wife’s defense. “It is not my wife’s fault she is slow. Perhaps Ganymede should give her pointers.” Hebe muttered so quietly no one heard, “Thanks a lot, babe.” Hebe knew she could always count on her husband to rescue her. She didn’t know what she was expecting. Hercules had a way of pretending to aid her, only to take his snooty father’s side in the end. Hebe often felt he did it to hurt her more than help him. Hera fired an angry look to the god of labor. “I think not,” the family goddess spat. “I do not wish any of my husband’s… Lovers… To ever visit Olympus again! It is bad enough you are here, my husband’s son with another woman!” “Agreed… It is bad enough I have to see you every day,” Hercules retorted. Hera came back with a comeback and then Hercules. The argument flew back and forth between the two like arrows firing at enemy lines. The other gods just watched, some chanted. Yep, a normal Olympian family dinner all right. Dionysus raised his wine glass - unlike the others, he wished for wine, naturally. Dionysus cheered on one of Hercules' insults. The wine god then held back his head. Hebe - having finished pacing out drinks - was free to squeeze herself behind one of the serving trays she used as a shield. Hebe’s bright blue eyes filled with agony as she was forced to endure watching Dionysus’ red wine spill on the table. The liquid splashed around like water from a crinkled-up watering can. Hebe wanted so badly to excuse herself. But she knew she was unallowed. As the god’s cupbearer, the youth goddess was forced to stay for the entire meal. Mostly because she was required to pass out the food as well as drink. Hebe held her eyes shut, interlocking her slim fingers around the crotch of her toga. She held the tray upwards so no one could see her desperate attempt at staying dry. Hebe could feel her bodily nectar shift around inside. This is what she got for putting off going to the bathroom for nine days. The Olympian family was demanding. Hebe rarely had time to herself. Even more rare was getting a chance to alleviate her needs. Hebe did not dare ask. Especially during supper. Truth be told, Hebe would have found it difficult to ask anyway. She was far too embarrassed to have anyone know what was going on down in her pelvis. “I shall be back with the meal,” Hebe said, cutting off one of Hera’s comebacks. And then, swiftly, Hebe made her way back to the kitchen, clutching both serving trays as tight as she could. If the family suspected something, they said nothing. Probably for the best knowing this family! Hebe spent the next several minutes preparing the main course. All the cooking was done by the nature spirits. All Hebe had to do was put the food on trays and carry them out to the gods. But given the vast amount of gods, she was expected to serve, the youth goddess had to fill up several trays and take several trips. As Hebe placed the food onto the trays, she secretly pee-pee danced to her heart’s content, taking pride in no one seeing her. Hebe constantly grasped at her crotch, kicked her legs behind her, clawed at her toga, anything and everything to keep the floodgates closed. As she squirmed, Hebe was vaguely aware of two new arrivals entering her kitchen. Hebe knew who they were immediately, and any doubts on the matter were instantly cleared when she heard the phrase, “Hi, mom,” coming from Alexiares. Standing directly behind the goddess of youth were her twin sons, Alexiares and Anicetus. Now Hebe had to be extra careful not to squirm. She didn’t want her adult sons to know what was going on with her, that she was one wrong move away from having a godly-sized bathroom accident. Granted, the twins were adults now, but still, they would always be Hebe’s boys. “H… Ho… Hi, boys,” Hebe was well aware of the shakiness of her breath. She prayed to all the gods her sons did not notice. Hebe kept her legs crossed in front of her. She swallowed, sweat leaking down her cheeks. “We just finished our shift guarding Olympus. And we wanted to see if you needed a hand,” Anicetus said. Hebe felt herself get extra warm inside. And not just from her overfilled urinary bladder. Hebe had the best sons! They were constantly looking out for her and always wanted to be of assistance. There were times Hebe thought Alexiares and Anicetus were the only gods in all of Olympus that cared for her. But at the end of the day, Hebe just needed her boys. “I… I’m okay, boys,” Hebe insisted. “You sure, mom,” Anicetus challenged. “You look awfully sweaty and shaky.” “Are the gods overworking you again?” Alexiares made a face that told Hebe he was ready to pound some immortals. “N… No… I’m fine,” Hebe insisted. The youth goddess lifted a tray packed with food. That’s when she was hit with a sudden jolt of her blasted pee pouch. “Oh!” Hebe wailed. The youth goddess stumbled. The tray almost crashed to the floor. Fortunately for Hebe, her sons were as light on their feet as the charities. Anicetus lunged forward and caught the tray before it crashed to the ground. Alexiares, meanwhile, grabbed his mother and helped her stand up straight. No matter how hard she tried, Hebe’s willpower gave out and she grasped her throbbing vagina through her toga. Hebe whimpered, her eyes glittered with tears. Anicetus set down the golden plate of food. “Mom, are you sure you are okay?” “You look like you have to…” Alexiares’ voice trailed. “HEBE!” Zeus’ powerful roar shook the building. Hebe could feel her ocean of urine serging towards the exit. Zeus’ shout scared Hebe into nearly losing cargo. Hebe could no longer resist… She held herself with both hands. Against all odds, Hebe managed to keep herself closed. Not a single drop leaked… But it was about to. Hebe’s lip was curled into her mouth. She bobbed up and down like a ship. Her face was a mix of sweat, tears, and redness. Her eyes bulged. As did her bladder. Hebe’s bladder extended past her waistline and bulged over her toga. Alexiares rested a hand on Hebe’s shoulder. “Mom…” His voice was as soothing as Pan’s bedtime music. “Do you need to… You know…” Hebe felt ridiculous having her sons tell her when it was time to go. But she couldn’t lie to them. Especially now that they knew the truth anyway. Unlike their father and grandfather, Alexiares and Anicetus weren’t dumb. Hercules wasn’t that dumb, he was just a pain at times… Hebe reluctantly nodded. “I haven’t gotten a break in days… And I have just been putting it off because it will take forever to empty, but…” The twins exchanged looks. They had the task of assisting their mother down to a science. The twins knew exactly what the other was thinking and they leaped into action. Anicetus snatched the tray of food and rushed it out to the gods. Alexiares, meanwhile, placed a gentle arm around his mother and whispered to her gently, “Come on, mom, I got you,” and began guiding his mother away. Hebe wanted to thank her sons, but she had to piss so badly, she feared if she opened her mouth, urine would tumble out. Unfortunately, the closest bathroom was on the other side of the dining hall, meaning Hebe and Alexiares would have to go past the other gods. “Anicetus,” Zeus was saying as Hebe and Alexiares emerged from the kitchen area. “What in my name are you doing serving the food!” Zeus’ stormy eyes landed on Hebe. “Hebe, get over here and…” “Mom’s on a break,” Anicetus said flatly, setting a plate of rolls down in the center of the table. “Break!” Zeus scoffed. “Says who?” “Says us,” Anicetus set a plate of steak down before Athena. Alexiares and Anicetus may fear Zeus - like mostly everyone - but there were three things the twin sons of Hercules and Hebe cared about: Guarding Olympus, guarding the mortal world, and guarding their mother’s well-being. When any one of those three things were threatened, Alexiares and Anicetrus were fearless. “Excuse you,” Zeus grumbled. “You do not have authority to…” “You do not have the authority to force our poor mother to work for nine days and nine nights,” Anicetus’ rage turned towards Zeus. “Watch your tongue,” Zeus warned. Hebe wanted to silence her son. She didn’t want him to be at the wrong end of Zeus’ lightning bolt. But at the present moment, Hebe’s brain was so waterlogged with urine, she could barely think. Anicetus then did something that no one has ever done to the king of Olympus. He made a fist. That was it. He made a fist. He didn’t punch Zeus or even advance toward him. He just held up his fingers enclosed into a ball. Zeus stared at Anicetus and Anicetus stared back at him. Zeus finally backed down and grunted towards Hebe, “Five minutes.” “She’ll return when she pleases,” Anicetus’ face filled with fury. Zeus didn’t respond. Even Zeus was smart enough not to mess with the twin sons of Hercules when their mother was concerned. Some of the gods glimpsed at Hebe as she stumbled across the floor, Alexiares helping her stand. Hebe had no choice anymore but to squeeze her privates and waddle like an elderly. Alexiares glared at the onlookers. That was enough to cause the gods’ gazes to break and they quickly returned to their meals. Hebe was so foolish not to go to her sons from the beginning. If she had, she would have gotten a break nine days ago! While Anicetus continued to pass out the main course, Alexiares managed to get his mother past the monster-sized dining table and they started down the hall. Hebe kept fumbling and slipping over her bare feet. She knew if Alexiares wasn’t here, she would surely fall. Hebe kept a hand bunching up her toga and allowed all of her weight to go against her adult son. They were halfway down the hall when another urge, this the worst one yet, collided with Hebe and caused her to fall over. Alexiares held her in place, holding onto his mother tighter than ever before. Hebe could feel the wave of urine washing over her, banging against her sphincter so hard, it was like holding back an army of Minotaurs. “I… Can’t hold it…” Hebe whimpered, tears streaming her face like rainwater through a leaky roof. “We’re almost there,” Alexiares said. Hebe noticed how calm her son sounded. That made her feel calmer as well. On the bright side, Hebe knew, even if she did have an accident, the other gods wouldn’t dare make fun of her or risk suffering the wrath of her angry, strong sons. Hebe could no longer separate her calves, even for a second. Hebe’s only option left was to limp forwards at a tortoise’s pace. Hebe could quite literally feel her youth draining away as she placed all of her energy into holding back the torrent of nectar that wanted so badly to exit her system. At long last, Hebe and Alexiares made it to the open restroom. “Are you okay from here, mom,” Alexaries asked. Hebe gave a weak nod. She then hobbled into the bathroom. Alexiares gently closed the door behind her and then processed to stand guard. Hebe had the toilet in sight. In a rush of excitement, a small dribble of three or four drops spilled into her toga, instantly getting absorbed by the fabric. Hebe took two great steps, feeling her sphincter give in, Hebe pulled up her toga and her sphincter relaxed and her pee hole expanded open. She didn’t even have time to properly sit down before a geyser of hot yellow piss fired from her divine cooch and psssshhhed into the bowl. Hebe stood above the toilet for a second, peeing like a man as she panted and huffed. The goddess of youth slowly lowered herself down onto the toilet. Sitting the wrong way on the bowl, Hebe held her toga in a heap against her breasts and gushed her bladder away into the bowl. Hebe laid her head against the wall and moaned again and again. The youth goddess could feel her golden juices blasting away, liters at a time. Sweat dripped down Hebe’s chin and her eyes watered with relief and with dust from the back of the toilet. Hebe’s bladder drained and the youth goddess felt ready to scream with joy. \Hebe’s mind, filled with endorphins, was quite disappointed with the initial sensation of blessed, long awaiting relief that died down and was replaced with a mediocre pee. Hebe sat on the back of the toilet peeing for the gods know how long! Hebe drummed her fingers on the back of the bowl in boredom. She spread her legs even farther and took comfort in watching a thick stream of piss jet itself from in between her wrinkled labia and splash down into the toilet, the water having gone bright yellow from her stream. The toilet automatically flushed several times, but Hebe just kept filling it back up easily. The youth goddess’ face returned to its former beautiful self and her bladder bulge had ceased to exist… For now anyway. Hebe looked up, feeling her stream slowly dribble away. She pushed, forcing out one last strong squirt, and then the stream stopped. Hebe waited for a second, listening to a soft drip drip as the last drops rolled down her pussy into the water. Hebe wiped herself with a clay shard and then stood, adjusting her toga. Hebe flushed and exited the bathroom. “Feeling better?” Alexiares kept his arms crossed, standing in the exact pose he used to guard Mouth Olympus. Hebe loved her sons’ ‘Don’t mess with me’ looks. Hebe wrapped her arms around her son, and he held her back. Hebe was a head shorter than her twin sons. It was strange having children that were taller and stronger than you. “Thank you, baby, I am much better,” Hebe sobbed. Anicetus appeared. “Let me guess,” Hebe wiped away her tears. “Zeus is angry with me?” “Not if he knows what is good for him,” Anicetus replied. “I just passed out dessert. That should keep the gods busy for a while.” “Desert?” Hebe’s face went red again. “How long was I in there?” The twins turned to one another, silently debating on how to answer their mother’s question. “A half-hour,” Alexiares stated. “A half hour!” Hebe wailed. That was a long urination, even by godly standards. “Mother, if Zeus refuses to give you a break again,” Anicetus began. “I tell my sons,” Hebe smiled. “You tell your sons,” the twins agreed together. “And we will take care of it,” Alexaires finished. Now Hebe did cry. Between the relief her bladder felt and her sons always having her back, Hebe could not help but wail like the Algea - the personifications of sorrow. Hebe’s sons hugged her, comforting their bawling mother. Hebe held her sons, knowing this was the best feeling in the world. Unfortunately, I haven't yet done many stories like this. I did however do one story where Hermes (the god of messages is urinating) and his wife, Peitho (goddess of seduction) grows male genitals to allow her to pee in the sink. I plan on posting this story at a later date. This is sadly the only male/femdom story I have done as of now. But I can do some more if you like! I certainly can if you are interested! I was planning on doing a story with Bastet and maybe Isis from Egyptian mythology. But I want to post all of my greek mythology stories first lol!
This next story is about Iris the messenger goddess and goddess of the rainbow. Enjoy! 🙂 PS, this story contains female masturbation and ejaculation. So, here's your warning!!!! Iris soared through the skies, her golden wings flapping like a dove’s as she went into a nosedive toward the earth. Iris chewed her lip and adjusted her mail sack. She shoved a hand down deep into her rainbow-patterned skirt and held it with all of her godly strength. Poor Iris was at the point where she had to fly with her legs held as tight together as the snakes of Hermes’ staff. And yet, Iris was loving every second of this. The rainbow goddess just adored sailing through the air, feeling the breeze in her wings and along her back, and feeling her heavy, bulging bladder weigh her down. In all of her immortal years, Iris has never told anyone her secret. But the rainbow goddess was deeply into, what the mortals called, omorashi. There was no better feeling to Iris than the fullness of a rock-hard bladder. Iris could feel her godly bladder shove down on her sphincter with all its might. The feeling was enough to make Iris’ irises roll back in her head. Iris used her rainbow staff - the one that controlled light - and stuffed it in between her legs like a wizard riding a broomstick. Iris held her staff there, unintentionally making an arch of color in the sky behind her. Iris bunched up her multicolored skirt, enjoying the feeling of almost wetting. One of the problems with being a goddess, it takes a long time to fill up. Even longer to become desperate. And while that is normally a blessing, for one into omorashi, it is a curse. Iris had to wait over eleven days now for her bladder to get this full. The wait was the most annoying thing ever! But knowing what lies beyond the rainbow, so to speak, Iris would happily wait weeks to become desperate every time. And so, Iris continued her daily messages for Hera. Iris spotted her target. Hating to have to hide her desperation - but also wanting to be professional - Iris squeezed her muscles as tight as they would go, removed her staff from under her skirt, and shot down towards the mortal world. Iris sat in a mortal chair, slyly shifting her weight around. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, hoping her mortal host wouldn’t notice her discomfort. Inachus looked over the scroll Iris had delivered to him. Iris waited as patiently as possible in her small chair as the King of Argos’ eyes had their fill of the words given to him by the rainbow goddess. At long last, Inachus muttered, “Unbelievable…” Iris feared the king would have this reaction. But at the present moment, Iris also feared not staying dry! The rainbow goddess squirmed and squirmed, and said, “Everything okay, my lord,” knowing very well it was not. It felt strange calling a mortal ‘lord’, but Iris wanted to be respectful. “Hera has informed me that that blasted sea god, Poseidon is not budging,” King Inachus snarled. “That dumb god dried up all of my land’s water, you know.” Iris nodded. As the messenger of Hera, she already knew this story. But again, for the sake of being polite, she pretended she hadn’t a clue what was going on. “All because my kingdom decided to make Hera our patron god over Poseidon,” Inachus grunted. “Poseidon is a sore loser,” Iris mentioned. “Just ask Athena.” Iris shifted a laugh which only put added pressure on her submerged pelvis. “Well,” Inachus’ attention turned back to his scroll. “Hera has tried to convince Poseidon to give us our water back. We need that water. It allows us to fish and travel around Greece. That water is important! And now, all the springs, lakes, rivers, even the sea, all gone! Nothing but soil!” Iris swallowed hard, the only thing she could do to keep herself from moaning. Iris’ legs were crossed in a double knot, her feet hanging over one another, and her whole body twisted more times than the Gordian Knot. Oh, why oh, why did Iris’ task have to deal with water of all things! The Fates either hated Iris or liked her and wanted to make her desperation more severe. Normally Iris would have loved that, but she didn’t want to lose her godly ocean right in the center of King Inachus’ throne room. “Hera says Poseidon isn’t budging and refuses to give us back our water,” the king complained, eyes down on parchment. Each time King Inachus used the W-word, Iris felt a squirt push against her sealed sphincter. “Now Hera says, if we want our water back, we must promise to build Poseidon, a temple where the tide ebbs the shore.” Inachus angrily rolled up the scroll. “This land was supposed to be dedicated to Hera, not Poseidon,” the king said in fury, shaking his scroll around. “Poseidon is such a…” Iris cleared her throat loudly, likely saving the king more headaches down the line. “Careful what you say about the divine,” Iris advised, looking to the high ceiling. Inachus blushed. “Right,” he coughed into his fist and said, “Iris, please tell Hera that - against my own free will - I accept to Posiedon’s terms.” “Excellent,” eager to leave, Iris leaped to her sandals. The rainbow goddess quickly realized her mistake when her body rocked with desperation. Iris nearly fell back down. She was well aware of her bladder bulging from her toga. Iris briefly debated asking the king to use the restroom of his palace. Only the rich had restrooms in their home, and King Inachus was certainly rich! Iris was a guest in his home, after all. It was only proper etiquette. But Iris knew with her godly bladder, she would fill up the entire toilet before even being a quarter empty. She refused to do that to the kind king. She just hoped he didn’t notice her dilemma. Just in case, the rainbow goddess held her staff in front of her. She knew it was far too skinny to hide her bulge, but it was better than nothing. Iris could not help but jiggle her legs behind her. She held one foot to her crotch and bowed to King Inachus as best she could. The king bowed back. “Thank you for everything, my lady of the rainbow,” Inachus said. “You are quite welcome,” Iris replied. “Good luck with your… Water situation…” Iris knee her face cringed on the second to last word, but Inachus thankfully didn’t appear to notice. “Thank you,” he said, returning to his throne. “I cannot wait to get my kingdom’s water back.” As she left, Iris muttered to herself, “You wish to get your water back, I wish to get my water out!” That line alone caused Iris’ clitoris to swell to the size of a pomegranate. Iris returned to Olympus and gave Hera the news. Iris kept her legs laced the entire conversation and continuously twirled her staff to distract herself. “Excellent,” Hera said. “I shall inform Posiedon right now. I am so happy to put this whole water business behind us.” Iris cringed again. Ironically, she was beginning to feel the exact same way. “Well,” the rainbow goddess turned. “If that is all, then I will just…” “Hold on,” Hera stood from her throne. Iris froze. “That is what I am trying to do,” she grunted to herself. “I have one last task for you for the day,” Hera said. “But Hera… My lady… I thought that was my final task!” Hera had already told Iris this was her final task for the day. Iris had been overjoyed! She already had her desperate masturbation session planned in her head. She seriously didn’t want to have to do anything else! “Zeus requests you deliver a message to Tartarus,” Hera informed. Tartarus? On a full bladder? Iris panicked. “Get Hermes to do it,” Iris snapped, ruder than she intended. “Hermes has his own tasks,” Hera replied. “And anyway, Zeus figured you would be the best person to do this.” Iris grunted, irritated. She was so ready to return to her bedroom and finger herself until she burst. But it looked like she would have to wait a little longer. “Fine,” grunted the rainbow goddess. “Who is the message for?” Hera then said something Iris least expected. “Arke, you know… Your twin sister.” Iris wished she could say she would have protested more. But no one argues with Hera. And even if Iris was feeling argumentative, those feelings would have vanished upon hearing who the recipient of this message was. And so, the rainbow goddess locked her legs together and flapped her wings as fast as they would go. Iris shot straight down into the city-state of Attika and right into the mouth of the cave in the Parnes Mountains. Iris instantly heard the babbling and wailing of the River Acheron, the River of Pain. There came the unmistakable sounds of the dead begging Iris to jump into the river with them and share their misery. But after having traveled to the underworld countless times before, Iris has gotten pretty good at tuning them out. But this time, in particular, it was easy to tune them out. Iris’ bladder was screaming so loudly, she hardly heard a word the river said. She did, however, hear the currents gently gurgling along their path. Iris stitched her legs even tighter. Despite her bad situation, Iris quite loved this moment. The fullness of her bladder was pressing down extra hard onto her vulva. At that moment, Iris’ clitoris was almost as sensitive as her bladder… Almost. Iris soared deeper into the underworld. She glided above the River Styx and past the Judgment Pavilion. She soon flew over the Fields of Punishment. There came the screams of hundreds of tortured souls. Iris soon made her way down the pit and found herself flapping down into Tartarus. The air of Tartarus was foul. It smelled of sulfur. Almost like old urine. That thought did not improve the state of Iris’ bladder. Fires burned across a field of broken glass and torn apart bones. Screams filled the thick air and monster howls were as loud as Dionysus’ drunken banquets. Once in hell, Iris quickly located the prison cells. Iris - having visited her twin sister once before - found her cell rather quickly. Sitting with her back facing the bars, was a dark goddess with silver wings and a black toga. Her skin was even more tan than Iris’ and her hair flowed in a fountain of chocolate, different from Iris’ blonde. Despite being twin sisters, Iris and Arke looked nothing alike. They acted nothing alike either. “Hey,” Iris spoke up. Arke owl turned her head. “Well, well, well, look who is here. Twin sister, kiss up to Zeus!” Arke lifted herself up and flapped her wings over to the bars. “I am not Zeus’ kiss-up,” Iris snarled. “Oh, that’s right. Hermes is Zeus’ kiss-up. You, dear sister, are the kiss-up to Hera. How silly of me!” Arke slapped her noggin like she was unable to believe how ridiculous she had sounded a moment ago. “You are one to talk,” Iris sniffed. “You supported Kronos in the war! I may be Zeus and Hera’s kiss up, but you were a pretty big kiss up to Kronos!” “Kronos was the right side to be on.” “Kronos ate his children!” “Yeah, well, maybe his children deserved it.” Iris knew it was pointless to argue with Arke. Her twin sister had a way of winning disputes. And so, Iris ended the argument with, “Just know this, Arke… You can say what you want, but the fact of the matter is, while you are alone down here in your prison inside Hell itself, I am up there, serving the gods as their loyal messenger. The gods were so pleased with how I delivered messages for them during the war, they wanted me to be their messenger on a daily basis! Meanwhile, you acted as Kronos’ messenger for the titans. And the titans lost and here you are in prison while I party with the gods!” To Iris’ surprise, Arke didn’t have a rebuttal. Arke just kept her back to the cell door, folded her arms, and floated a few feet off the ground. Arke looked back at Iris, her eyes filled with sorrow. Iris truly hated to see her sister like this. Arke was her twin sister after all. But Arke had taken the side of the titans during the Titanomachy. And maybe the gods are not the nicest of people, the titans were pretty bad themselves. Iris still supported the gods just as much as Arke supported the titans. Both sisters knew they supported bad people - but given both sides were kind of evil in their own ways - they were each still happy with the side they had picked all those years ago. “Do you have meaning for your visit,” Arke snapped at her twin sister. Iris fished around in her mail bag and produced a scroll which she continued to unroll. The rainbow goddess read aloud, “‘Arke, in response to your request to be set free, the Council of Olympian Gods has decided to deny such a request and allow you to stay in Tartarus. During the events of the Titanomachy, you betrayed the gods’ trust by sneaking away from their camp and joining Kronos and his allies. You acted as Kronos’ messenger and did everything within your power to grant the gods’ worst enemy victory of the war. We fear you have not yet grown out of these evil characteristics. Therefore, we shall be keeping you in Tartarus for the unforeseeable future.’” Iris expected Arke to throw a tantrum. Honestly, Iris probably would have been in her position. Instead, Arke kept her cool and simply said, “Was it necessary to read all that aloud? Why not just tell me the gods are keeping me here?” Iris rolled up the scroll and pocketed it in her satchel. “I suppose I could have. But Hera told me to read the scroll, so…” Arke then said something Iris had not expected… “How are mom and dad?” Iris flinched. She had no idea Arke cared. Then again, they are her parents as well. Of course, she cared. “Good,” Iris replied. “Dad recently discovered a new type of coral that glows in the dark, and mom created a new hue of cloud.” Iris and Arke’s father, Thaumas god of the wonders of the sea, was always discovering new… Wonders of the sea! And their mother, Electra was one of Oceanus and Thetys’ three thousand daughters. Electra was also the goddess of amber-tinted clouds and loved to invent new colors and hues of cloud. Yeah, Iris and Arke had two thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine aunts. A big family to say the least! “How are the harpies,” Arke asked, referring to her and Iris’ sisters. “Good,” Iris replied. “You know them… Like stealing food from mortals. Zeus actually recently gave them a job. He wants them to steal food from this one mortal named Phineas.” “Yikes, what did he do?” “Phineas is a son of Poseidon and he has the gift of prophecy. He told the mortals what the gods were planning. Zeus got angry and blinded him. He also told our sisters to steal all of Phineas’ food and leave him only enough to survive.” “Zeus is rather forgiving, isn’t he?” “Hey, I never said Zeus was a kind man,” Iris retorted. “Well, good for our sisters anyway. Now those bird ladies can do what they do best, steal food! I remember how they always took my sandwiches.” Iris smirked. “Yeah, you made sandwiches that stretched to the heavens!” “With extra pickles and mustard.” “And our sisters would constantly snatch them from you before you even took a bite!” “That is one of the key reasons I switched to Kronos’ side,'' Arke joked. “What? He promised you endless sandwiches.” “He promised me my sisters would stop stealing my food,” Iris shot back. The twins laughed, just like old times, just like before the Titan War even started. Arke’s smile came and went like the rays of the sun. Arke stared at her sister, legs crossed under her, hands holding those tired legs up, a bulge around her stomach area. Arke’s face finally settled upon a grin. “Are you in the middle of a hold?” Arke demanded. Iris knew it was pointless to fib at this point. Arke could see everything. Plus, despite their differences, Arke was Iris’ sister. And Arke was the only one that knew of the rainbow goddess’ fetish. “Kinda,” Iris curled her legs and held them close so she hovered above the ground in a ball. Arke held her head back and hollered with giggles. “Oh, sis, haven’t changed a bit,” Arke laughed. “How long has this been going on?” Arke wagged a finger up and down in between the bars to indicate Iris’ present situation. “Like eleven days.” “Eleven days, wow,” Arke breathed. Arke playfully swung around on the bars of her cell. “Are you gonna be able to hold it?” “I’m gonna try…” “You better hold it!” Arke warned sharply. “You are a big goddess. Big goddesses don’t pee themselves, now. Plus, as I understand it, dear sister, you are on the clock. You can’t wet yourself! Imagine Zeus and Hera’s reactions… Flying back to Olympus, your skirt completely soaked and reeking of urine. The gods might stick you in diapers. If they can’t trust you to hold your bladder, how can they trust you to deliver their mail!” Iris knew the gods wouldn’t fire her just for having some incontinence. But it would be humiliating, nonetheless. Iris kind of enjoyed having Arke tease her. It was just like the days before the Titan War. Iris would hold her pee as a way to arouse herself, and Arke - the only one that knew - would taunt her. “I miss you,” Iris admitted. “Why did you have to support the titans?” Arke shrugged. “They seemed like the right side. At least with the titans, they have been around forever. We knew exactly how they acted. We had no idea what issues these new gods would bring with them. Zeus is always sexually assaulting people. Hera is a murderer. Poseidon dries up water and makes people go thirsty. Demeter starves the world just because she had a bad day. Aphrodite makes mortals and gods go crazy. I could go on. The titans are bad, sure, no one is saying they are the good guys. But at least we know what problems they brought with them.” Iris hated to admit it, but that kind of made sense. Arke was always afraid of change. “I had no idea you requested to be set free,” Iris said. “I’m sorry Zeus and the others turned you down.” “Yeah, well,” Arke looked away. “I didn’t exactly think they would let me out. But I’ve gotten used to a life in Tartarus. Maybe one day the gods will set me free. In the meantime, tell mom, dad, and the harpies I said hi. You should go now.” Arke looked her sister up and down like a hero does to a monster. That comparison made Iris’ stomach churn and her bladder lurch towards the exit. “I suppose,” Arke snickered. “You have some enjoyment to get to!” It was hard to enjoy herself now after seeing her twin sister still locked up in Tartarus. But Iris would try. Iris flew back to Olympus at the speed of visible light on the spectrum. Leaving a trail of rainbow behind her, Iris zipped from Tartarus out of the underworld across the mortal plains and back to Olympus. Iris flew straight into her sleeping chambers and slammed the door shut. She locked it and quickly fumbled with her skirt and toga. The fast movements made Iris’ bladder beg to be released. The rainbow goddess felt a few drops roll past her fatigued sphincter muscle. Her bladder was hammering in her abdomen like Hephestus’ tools on metal. Iris had to keep her legs closed the entire time as she stripped naked. Iris threw her staff and clothing in a pile at the foot of her bed. She slipped her toga over her wings and tossed it to the floor. Thinking ahead, Iris had already set out a mountain of towels before leaving for work this morning. Knowing Iris’ godly bladder, these towels wouldn’t be nearly enough to soak up all of her liquid. But they were better than nothing. Iris knew the cleanup would suck. But she didn’t care in the slightest right now. Fully naked, the rainbow goddess held herself in the air, her wings flapping like a butterfly’s. Iris ran her hands over the naked bump jutting from her tummy. The rainbow goddess bit down on her lip with such force, she could feel ichor - the golden blood of the gods - emerge from the tooth piercings and soak her tongue. Just running her hands along her rock-hard bladder, Iris could feel herself seconds from cumming. Her bladder was the size of the Chimera’s head! It’s lion head that is. Iris’ navel stood out so far, so distended, filled with her sweat like Typhon’s eyeball when he watches Saturday night rom-com. Iris’ bladder was so gigantic, her wings could hardly hold her up anymore. Iris felt like she was lifting up a full-grown griffin with two feathers. Iris hovered herself over to her bed and plopped down onto her towel mountain. Iris spread her legs as far as they would go. Just moving her legs away from each other was enough to force her overworked bladder to eject a small trickle of urine. Iris could feel the golden stuff ooze past her lips and onto the towels below her. Iris placed two fingers firmly on her clitoris and began spinning it around in counterclockwise circles. Iris moaned and allowed her head to slam against her pillows. The rainbow goddess knew her walls were soundproof, but she still held back her screams. Keeping herself quiet, not making any noise, it just added to the sexual tension racing through the rainbow goddess’ veins. Iris’ godly brain was numb with delight. The heavy rock-like texture of her bladder was enough to send her over the edge. Iris’ clit buzzed in between her fingers like a bumble bee on alcohol. Iris chewed her lips fiercely, drawing more ichor. Sweat gushed down her face and legs. Her bladder - the size of Gaia’s best mountains - even poured sweat like rivers among the hills. Tears of joy and a pleasant type of pain filled the rainbow goddess’ irises. Iris rolled her clitoris this way and that. Beads of urine shot from her like a sprinkler out of control. Iris moaned heavily and felt her pleasure meter rocket to the top, her heart slowing down and her brain shutting off. Adrenaline coursed through her immortal body as the rainbow goddess experiences two amazing sensations all at once. She peed. And she orgasmed. Iris’ eyes grew into stars as her breath was captured by her throat. A thick jet of white hot goo blasted from her vulva and dotted the towels like the melting snow of a springtime mountain. Immediately following the ejaculation was a rapid of piss. Blazing hot urine shot from Iris’ pussy. The rainbow goddess - wishing to prolong the moment - forced her sphincter to close and open, close and open. Iris shot out just a little bit of pee at a time. But finally, her immortal body had had enough and involuntarily caused Iris to drain all over her towel mountain. Iris held her head back. Her face was a mix of sweat, tears, and droll. Her golden hair was plastered to the bed behind her. Her golden ichor had dried to form a thick layer of crust over her factual lips. Meanwhile, Iris’ pussy lips were busy ejecting eleven days' worth of urine all at once. The river of piss was so hot when it touched down on the towels, a slab of steam rose into the air. GLOOUUK. The urine sounded distorted and out of focus. All though, that may have just been the ringing in Iris’ ears. The rainbow goddess saw colors. A look - only to describe as orgasmic - crossed her face. This was one of the best orgasms the rainbow deity has ever had! Iris panted and trembled and finally relaxed as she lay in bed and peed and peed for several long moments. To most gods, the orgasmic feeling of releasing a painfully full bladder goes away after a few minutes of peeing. But to Iris, Iris was aroused right up until the last second of her stream. The sundial in the corner of the room had moved a great deal by the time Iris’ bladder had shrunk down to a natural size. Iris peed for several moments after. Finally, her stream turned into a trickle and was good. The once pearl towels were now a slate gray and every inch of them was covered. The air stunk of eleven-day-old piss, but it was a smell that only made Iris wish to touch herself again. Iris lay in bed, one hand on her clit, the other on her bladder. Iris didn’t play with herself, she just kept her hands there as if prepared for what awaited her next. Iris’ eyes shut. She felt her brain tingle like a hand or foot that has fallen asleep. Iris’ mind was drifting off and she could feel Hypnos - the god of sleep - doing his job. Suddenly, Iris heard a noise that woke her up like a bucket of freezing River Leche water. The doorknob jiggled. Iris sat upright. No one could enter. The door was locked! She just had to be quite… Then, the door opened! And in stepped… “Oh,” Zephyrus god of the west wind blushed at his wife. “You having some fun?” Iris smirked, relieved it was only her husband. “Step in before the whole world sees me,” she giggled. And so the west wind did. Zephyrus closed and relocked the door and pocketed their bedroom key. He climbed onto the large bed and lay beside his nude wife. Zephyrus rested his head on her breast and twirled his finger in circles on her bare tummy. “You have some fun with your omorashi stuff?” asked the west wind. “I did,” replied the rainbow goddess. “You want to have some fun with me?” Zephyrus sounded sad like he feared a negative answer. “You know I am always up to playing with you, babe,” Iris replied. Zephyrus’ frown flipped on its head. And the two gods slid under the covers and began foreplay. Between the extra sexual release and the release of a monster piss, Iris was so overjoyed, she promised herself, after sexual intercourse with her man, she would give the whole world a rainbow. Iris had a tendency to create rainbows for the world when she was extra happy. And right now… She was extra happy! Edited March 31 by UrineLover1 (see edit history)
Switching over to Egyptian mythology, I have written a story about Isis the Egyptian goddess of magic, healing, and motherhood. Isis stood on a large sandy hill overlooking the city of Alexandria. Isis’ red, blue, and green wings flapped in the light breeze. Her feet lifted off the ground, one at a time, allowing her upper legs to press into her vagina, one after the other. Isis reached above her noggin and carefully removed her headdress of ram’s horns which houses a glowing orange sphere of light inside. It was her famous sun disk headdress which her great-grandfather, Ra had given her. Isis uncomfortably pressed the ram’s horns and sphere to her pussy, shoving it deep inside her genitalia as a way to hold on longer. Headdress inside her lady bits, the goddess of magic turned and faced the flowing Nile River right beside her. Isis closed her eyes and listened to the Nile flow. The rushing river rapids moved delicately but swiftly. The river was fast, but it wasn’t too powerful. As Isis listened to the flowing water, her four-week full bladder was driven crazy with pee delight. Isis wanted to pee so badly. And it was such a glorious feeling indeed! Isis couldn’t imagine a better sensation than the one she currently experienced. The goddess of magic simply loved the feeling of an organ as heavy as a stone wheel pressing down on her clit. The goddess was immensely aroused. Isis held her legs closed, keeping her headdress pressed tightly up to her goddesshood. With her now free hands, Isis placed her Ankh - the symbol of life statue - in one hand, and with the other, she waved her hand in a circle and conjured up a chalice out of thin air. The sky-blue cup was overflowing with grape juice. Isis temporarily held her Ankh in between her teeth. This allowed her to wave her spare hand over the chalice which glowed bright blue. Isis amplified the effects of her grape juice - which was already considered a diuretic - tenfold. Grinning, already squirming at the effects, Isis removed her Ankh from her lips and downed the grape juice, making sure to suck down every last drop. In only a couple of minutes, Isis’ thirst was quenched and the chalice had run dry. Wanting even more of a challenge, Isis used her magic to refill the cup two more times, and each time, she gave extra diuretic effects to the grape juice. Even though Isis only drank three cups, thanks to her magic, it was more like drinking thirty cups! Isis could already feel the effects take hold of her bulging-out bladder. Breathing heavily, Isis began to run her hands over her swollen stomach. Her stomach was bulging so far out, anyone would assume she was nearing the end of a pregnancy. Tossing her empty chalice over her shoulder into the sand, Isis shoved her headdress even farther into her crotch. Squirming and wiggling and moaning, the goddess of magic stretched her hand towards the river. Out of the river sprang two streams of water. The water flowed through the air, riding on the currents of Isis’ sorcery and each of the streams entered one of Isis’ ear canals. Isis’ ear drums were coated in the noise of trickling water. Isis’ bladder grew numb from the stress of holding. Isis crossed her legs into a triple knot. Her toes were crossed in the sand, her sandals tip-tap-tapping. Maneuvering her hips back and forth, Isis jammed her headdress as far up her vagina as it would go. The goddess of motherhood rubbed her hands together, whispering a soft spell onto them. Her fingertips began to glow with blinding light. Isis lightly pressed down on her bladder. The magic in her fingertips seeped through her exposed skin and entered her incredibly rock-hard belly. The strands of witchcraft the goddess used entered her bladder, filling it to its huge captivity. Isis could feel the hardness of her organ sitting on her pelvis, making her clit buzz with enjoyment. Isis had never been so desperate. Those drinks were already entering her system. In no time, she would be feeling the brunt of the attack. Isis felt as if a pile of limestone was pressing into her abdomen. The pressure was the most erotic sensation of them all. Now, for the best part. Holding her headdress to her pussy, Isis transformed into a mortal woman. Her wings drew into her back. Isis also used her magic to make her Ankh and headdress vanish into thin air. Those were the symbols most often associated with Isis. If anyone saw her with them, they would know she was a goddess in disguise. Isis’ Ankh and headdress were safely stored in the Duat for later use, the goddess held her crotch the old-fashioned way with her bare hands. She squeezed and held. Then, she began to waddle down the sand hill and into the city of Alexandria, all while watery noises flowed inside her brain. Isis knew this was wrong. This was awful of her. To take advantage of these mortals… Well, she wasn’t really taking advantage of them, now was she? Isis never knew what it was… But nothing excited her more than being fully desperate for a piss with others watching her and staring. Isis just wanted the mortals to look at her and gawk at her bloated bladder and be impressed when she exploded all over the city. But it wasn’t fair to the mortals. They had no idea a goddess was wandering their city while intentionally holding her pee, getting a sick kick out of others watching her struggle. Isis knew she needed to stop this. She did this all the time. But it was too exciting for her. She was addicted. Isis intentionally held her pee for four weeks while drinking vast amounts of fluid the entire time. Her immortal kidneys haven't had a rest that entire time. And now they had thirty cups of grape juice to filter. Fortunately, Isis was a goddess, so she could not do any damage to herself physically. But this was still wrong of her to do to the poor mortals. Maybe it wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t like Isis was harming the mortals in any way. But she still felt guilty. If the mortals knew that she, Isis, the protector of mothers, children, and the dead, acted in such a vial manner, would they still worship her the way they do? Isis was the one who taught mortals how to weave baskets, brew beer, and bake bread. Would the mortals still hold her to such high regard if they knew her disgraceful secret fantasy? And what of the other gods? Would they be disgusted by Isis’ despicable nature? She couldn’t risk anyone finding out. This is the LAST time I do this, Isis told herself. It was a lie. She told herself this constantly. It was never enough. She knew she would be back here next month. If not Alexandria, another city. She could never get enough. The only one who knew of this awful act was Isis’ husband, Osiris lord of the underworld. And thanks to Set (god of chaos and deserts) murdering Osiris, Osiris was no longer in this realm. He was in the underworld now. Isis still visited of course. But she saw her husband much less these days. How Isis hated her evil brother, Set. She hoped her son, Horus (god of revenge and pharaohs) would put an end to Set’s rein soon. Isis has already assisted Horus in many ways. There was the time Isis tricked Set into eating Horus’ semen which she laid on Set’s favorite lettuce plant. Set ate the lettuce and Horus’ semen along with it. Set then became pregnant with Horus’ heir and became a laughingstock of the gods. (Hey, the gods can do anything. The males can even become pregnant!) There was also the time Isis fired a harpoon at Horus and Set who were wrestling in the form of hippopotamuses. Unfortunately, despite having aimed for Set, Isis ended up striking her own son instead. There was also the time that Isis transformed into a beautiful woman and seduced Set, forcing him to admit in front of all the other gods how he usurped the throne from Osiris. The battle between Horus and Set was age-old. Hopefully, Horus would defeat Set one day. But as of now, Isis needed to take a break from all of that nonsense and just unwind with some good old-fashioned desperation fun. And the mortals would unknowingly help her with that! As bad as Isis felt for the oblivious mortals, the excitement inside her antagonizing bladder was so extreme, all of her guilt washed away like the sand banks of the Nile. Isis wore nothing but a short skirt and a linen kalasiris - an ancient form of bra - so as not to get overheated from the harsh desert air. Isis’ tanned skin was exposed to the world as was her bouncing bulge or rock-hard piss. Isis was hobbling through the streets, her short black hair swaying in the harsh desert winds. Isis had her hands shoved up her skirt. She groped her hairy vulva. The goddess felt her forest of pubes against her fingers. That only turned her on even more. As Isis waddled through the streets of Alexandria, many heads turned. Everyone saw Isis grab her crotch and pee dance up and down the streets. Having all eyes on her was the most exhilarating feeling in the cosmos. Isis hoped they would all be around to watch her eruption later on. The goddess of magic went waddling up to a man who stood on the third highest rung of a ladder, using a hammer to nail a board on his roof. Isis imagined he was sealing up a leak. She imagined this attractive mortal banging his hammer against her urethral opening, making sure there were no dribbles. Isis gasped in a flurry of thrills. “Excuse me, sir,” Isis called. The man looked down from his room. This was it, time to oversell it. Granted, Isis didn’t need to oversell anything! That heavy grape juice had caught up with her. Adding to her four-week-old swimming pool of urine, Isis was ready to blow her lid. Isis kept her hands wedged up her skirt. With her knees pressed together, she hopped from side to side on each foot. Isis wore the most desperate expression as possible. The one of a lady ready to birth a pee baby. That wasn’t hard to do given her seriously desperate state. The experience of this man watching her was dazzling. To have his eyes explore her naked bulge and her frantic movements. Isis felt two different bodily urges mixed into one. “Would you be so kind as to tell me where I can find the nearest toilet?” Isis asked. Asking for the toilet while having a distended belly and doing an intense bathroom dance all while a stranger stared at her… Isis had never been so aroused! Please say you don’t know, please say you don’t know, Isis begged. She wanted to ask every mortal in this city where to find a toilet. She wished so badly that one didn’t exist! She wished she would have to hold this load forever while the entire city watched her dance and squirm and wiggle in place. Isis silently crossed her fingers, hoping this man would tell her she was out of luck. This was not Isis’ lucky day. The man quickly scuttled down from his ladder and told the desperate magic goddess, “You may use my toilet if you wish. It looks urgent.” Even though he didn’t call Isis out on it, Isis clearly saw his eyes drift for just a moment and observed her pregnant bulge. Seriously, Isis was beginning to look more bloated than when she carried around an infant Horus inside her belly. Isis was frozen. Normally, she would be very grateful for a mortal’s hospitality. The gods often wondered if mortals would be kind to them even if they disguised themselves as mortals. Here Isis was disguised as a mortal woman, and this man was willing to give her sanctuary. While this showed this gentleman as a kind man, it did little for Isis’ excitement. Fortunately, she had a plan for this. “Um… No offense… I appreciate the offer and all,” Isis managed, jumping all over the street. “But I feel uncomfortable using a stranger’s lavatory. Is there a public one I can use, by any chance?” The man pursed his lips. Admiring Isis’ pee pee dance, he said, “Doesn’t look like you’re in a position to be picky right now. But there’s a public bathroom right down that road,” he pointed down a side street. “Thank you,” Isis hobbled off. Isis’ senses were fluttering faster than her godly wings ever could. That was the most arousing feeling talking to an attractive man about bathrooms while dancing. Isis wished it didn't have to end, but dragging it out would have made him suspicious. But Isis had other tricks up her sleeve. Isis’ bladder was at its max. The roaring of water was still bellowing in her head. Her brain felt like it was an island in a sea of gold. Her urine remained caged up inside her bladder walls, begging for a spot to empty. Isis could feel the ten times of grape juice move swiftly through her kidneys and flow down her ureters. Her urge was rising steadily. After four weeks with zero alleviation breaks, Isis was already stretching her limits. Soon, she would create her very own personal oasis of yellow. Time for round two! Isis squirmed her way up to two chatting handsome men with neat beards and muscles. Isis had a tendency to navigate towards the attractive men of the cities she frequented with her urgent bladder needs. One of the men sat on the windowsill of a nearby house while the other leaned against the wall. They were nothing but loincloths and they were in heavy conversation regarding the weather. (Which was always hot and dry!) “Hey, boys,” Isis stood before the men. She had two fists raised at her side and was marching her feet up and down in the sands. The two men looked over. “I have to pee!” Isis shouted. The two men exchanged looks for a solid two heartbeats. Looking back at Isis, the man on the windowsill said, “Do you need directions to the bathrooms?” Still marching, Isis shook her head. “I want to pee,” she repeated. The men looked at one another again. The looks they gave one another made Isis’ godly clitoris turn into a firm stone. They were judging Isis, confused at what she was asking. Maybe they were even a little uncomfortable… Good! Just what Isis liked to see. She was such a cruel goddess… “Okay, the bathrooms are down that way, ma’am,” the man against the wall pointed. Isis shoved her hands up her skirt again and continued to move her feet up and down in desperation. “I really have to use the toilet!” Isis cried. The two men blinked and looked at each other and eyed Isis’ disguise. “Do you need help making it?” the man against the wall asked. “Or do you want to go inside my place,” windowsill man pointed through the open window carving. “I really need a wee!” Isis crossed her legs into a tight ribbon. Bobbing up and down with her hands mixed in the pile of legs, she gnawed at her lower lip, making her eyes wide to show how urgent this urination was. The two men stared at each other for what felt like one-quarter of a millennium. Finally, their gaze broke from each other and they looked at Isis - who was now sitting on her bum on the ground, knees to stomach, rocking back and forth with the most desperate of expressions on her face. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you want us to do,” said the man on the window. The second man began, “If you need us to help you walk…” Isis lay on her side, her hands buried in her crotch, legs crossed tight, bulge protruding into the sand, and whole body shaking. “I need to pee so bad…” Isis moaned. The two men held eye contact so long, Ra’s sun boat moved several miles across Nut [the sky goddess]’s body. When they looked at Isis again, the man against the wall inched forward. The man on the windowsill climbed down. They slowly reached for Isis as though to help her up. Instead, Isis rolled from side to side moaning over and over again, “I gotta pee, I gotta pee, I gotta pee…” “Ma’am, we can’t help you if…” the first man started. “I feel like I’m gonna burrrrrrst!” Isis shouted, extending the R sound. Isis remained on her back, hands upskirt, eyes staring into the harsh light of Ra. Giving up, the two men stood up straight and rushed away. Isis had tears running in rivers onto the ground, moistening the otherwise dry sands of Egypt. The tears were real. The pressure was the strongest Isis has felt in years. This experience was so arousing. Those two men looked at her like she was a chorus of scarab beetles singing in perfect harmony. But isis wasn’t done yet. She still had a whole lot of horniness to get out of her system. Isis decided to take a break from just men and danced up to a group of people - both men and women - who sat on the side of the street playing a board game. Isis flew up to them so quickly, her entire form turned into a blur of light as she did so. “BATHROOOOOOOOM!!!” Isis bellowed, her hands hidden up her pure white skirt. Isis could literally feel a pulse in her vagina area. Pressure collected on her pussy. Isis now held four weeks' worth of nectar as well as the thirty grape juice containers she had a little while ago. The pressure skyrocketed in a matter of seconds as the last bits of juice filled Isis’ already-packed urinary bladder. Her stomach was so stretched, there were marks on it. Isis commanded the water noises to increase inside her ears. She felt an ocean swishing about inside her divine body. But that was nothing compared to the arousal she felt at having this group study her, surprised by her bold behavior and her frantic moves. Isis knocked her knees all about, swaying her hips, grabbing herself with the left hand and then the right, angrily pulling on her pubes and dropping curly hairs into the sand where the small crowd could see them. The men and women instantly switched from surprise to concern for this poor woman. “Ma’am,” one of the women stood. “You look extra bloated. Are you pregnant?” “Sitra!” the only other woman in the group shouted. “What?” asked Sitra. “She must be having a hard time holding due to her pregnancy.” “Yes, but you don’t need to point out she’s bloated,” the second woman lectured. Isis could feel excitement coursing through her veins. These people truly thought her to be expecting. And she was… She was expecting a urinary explosion soon! “Please…” Isis stammered, forcing her voice to come out weak and trembling. Isis skipped around in front of the group of four. “Find me a b… B… Bathroom… I need a toilet!” Isis crossed one leg in front of the other and jammed her hands so far up her skirt, her wrists disappeared. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” one of the men spoke quickly, realizing there was little time left for this ‘pregnant’ woman to find salvation. “The restrooms are a bit off. Do you want to go behind a building?” In the lands of Egypt, public urination - male and female - is a very common thing. Asking Isis if she wanted to piss outside was a fair suggestion in these times. Still refusing to end her play session, Isis replied, “I normally would, but you know… Pregnant,” she rubbed her enlarged stomach. “I can’t squat.” “You could always spread your lips and stand,” Sitra suggested. “That’s what I do. Just face a wall, hold your lips yah distance apart, piss.” Sitra demonstrated by holding two fingers in front of her own sundress. “Thanks for the suggestion,” Isis had one leg raised and moved it up and down her opposite leg as though she had an itch. “But I’m no good at that either… I have to go so, so… So b… Badly…” Pretending to fall, Isis grabbed her knees and bent over. She could feel her giant bladder pressing into her legs. It hurt in the most pleasurable way imaginable. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” the second man looked concerned. “I don’t know what to do… we can knock on someone’s door and ask…” “No, no, I won’t be a… A b… A bother…” Isis choked out. “I won’t m… Make it to the b… Bathroom either t… Though.” The four friends eyed each other, digging for solutions. One of the men looked down at the large wooden game board. Examining the wall behind him, leading against it was a saw and a shovel. “Ehoou, bring those tools over here,” the man commanded. “I have an idea.” Normally, this was the part where Isis refuses the easy solution for some reason and runs off to attack someone else with her urinary needs. But this man’s plan was so daring, it was just the kind of thing an aroused Isis couldn’t pass up. A solution this hot and spicy only came around once in a lifetime. And for a goddess, that meant something! The man named Ehoou dragged over the shovel and the saw. The second man - named Harsiesis asked Ehoou to hold the giant wooden game board while he cut a hole in the center. He then asked the second woman - named Anta - to use the shovel to gather a large pile of sand. Sitra, meanwhile, would search for sticks and rope and set up a stand for them all. “Just hang on a little longer, ma’am,” Harsiesis cried, quickly sawing through his own game board. Isis honestly felt bad for these poor mortals. Here they were helping some total stranger. If they knew she was the divine, that would be different. But as far as they knew, she was just some pregnant woman in need of assistance. And they were willing to sacrifice their game board like that to assist her! The gang did their respective jobs. Sitra tied sticks to rope, creating a stand. Anta gathered a large pile of sand below said stand. Harsiesis finished his work, having successfully created a hole large enough for Isis’ bum in their game board. Ehoou quickly set the ruined game board over the stand Anta had built. Isis had to hand it to them, they worked quickly. Upon knowing relief was so close, Isis felt ready to explode almost as if this were for real. She felt a mallet hammering against her sphincter, ready to dislodge it out of place and thus open the floodgates. And when that happened, she would shower everything. Speaking of, Isis feared what would happen when she unleashed her beast of a bladder. These poor mortals expected her to have a bladder the size of a pregnant mortal. The pile of sand Anta gathered was perfect for that. But for a goddess… Not even close! On that note, believe it or not, but this is what toilets looked like in ancient Egypt. Ancient Egyptian toilets were literally a stand that held a plank of wood that had a hole in the center and a pile of sand under it to catch urine and feces. Harsiesis, Anta, Sitra, and Ehoou worked with very limited resources, but they managed to make a replica of any toilet found across the plains of ancient Egypt. Isis wanted to cry. These people were so nice and so resourceful! Even if Isis was just pretending with them, she would have to reward them! But shedding her disguise was out of the question. She could not let mortals know who she was. What would become of her reputation? Isis had tears, just like the kind she used to create the Nile River. (Yes, long story short, when Set killed Osiris, Isis’ husband, Isis cried so much she created the very Nile River itself). And she was ready to cry a second one! “Go ahead, ma’am,” Harsiesis said, standing back. “We can…” Ehoou was just about to suggest that he and his friends give her some privacy. But if Isis was going to do this, she needed all eyes on her! And again, public urination was no big deal in these days. Hence why the group left their homemade toilet out in the open, on the side of the street. Isis charged forward, suddenly feeling the full gravity of her desperation. Isis spun around, threw her skirt up, and plopped down, holding her bum over the hole in the wood. The stand Sitra built creaked a little, but it held just fine. Isis spread her legs wide - pretending it was out of urgency, but really just wanting the crew to watch her gush. Isis’ pussy lips flapped for all to see. And from deep within, came a jet of piss like no other. A jet of urine the size of a giant’s tear ducts fired from Isis’ labia. The nearly clear stream smashed the sand to shreds. Isis’ pee tore through the sand in a matter of seconds. The strongest pressure stream that anyone had ever seen gushed from Isis’ aching piss hole. Her pissy lips fired urine below her butt and soaked the large pile of sand gathered by Anta. The sand pile had previously been several inches in height. Now, the mound was a flat thicket of mud and clay. Isis’ stream was so powerful, it broke the record of the ancient world. Isis allowed her head to hang back. The change in internal pressure was the most orgasmic thing Isis had ever felt in any of her lives. (The Egyptian gods have been reincarnated a multitude of times). With a geyser between her separated legs, Isis moaned in bliss. Euphoria filled her noggin. Her entire body buzzed like the desert locusts at night. “RELIEF!” Isis shouted. “MAN, THAT HITS THE SPOT!!!” Isis was well aware she was shouting. That was kind of her intention. “Feeling better, ma’am?” Ehoou asked politely, unable to take his eyes from the disguised goddess’ sprout. “YOU BET I AM!” cried a relieved Isis. Nothing better than all of that pressure zipping out of her genitals in a long, wet flood. That reminded Isis, she better cool it or she would flood all of Egypt! But this feeling felt too grand! How could Isis possibly control herself now that she had a taste of this blessed relief? How grand it was! This piss certainly was fit for a goddess! Isis had already pissed so powerfully, she washed away the entire pile of sand scooped by Anta. The four friends took a few nervous steps back as they watched Isis flood the entire street. Isis shot piss wildly from her pussy, directly through the hole under her, causing a sinkhole in the desert floor ten inches below her butt. Isis allowed the super-powerful grape juice to drain along with every other blasted drink she had consumed over the past month. As Isis urinated away, one by one, citizens of Alexandria noticed the trail of wet sand flowing across the entire city. Soon, a crowd gathered to investigate and gawk at the powerful pissing woman. The crowd started off with just a few stunned faces here and there. But in no time, half the residents of Alexandria had crowded around, peeking over one another’s shoulders, staring at the source of such a pee. Isis pretended not to notice all the people gathered to watch her wee. Could this whole adventure get any more arousing!?! Isis spent several more minutes spraying the sands below her. With each minute that passed with no end in sight, the crowd looked more and more perplexed. By the time Isis reached half an hour of a straight gush, the crowd had grown so wide, the entire street was packed with people wishing to get a glimpse at the urinating marvel. Isis quickly learned the flaw in her fantasy. It was the same flaw that happened every time she did this. No mortal could pee for half an hour with such high pressure. Mortals may be dumb, but they’re not that dumb. Even mortal brains can understand one simple truth. In order to pee like this, the person had to be a goddess! Isis heard the rumors fly around like hornets. The crowd whispered to one another, surprised by the powerful gushing woman who was nothing more than a goddess in disguise. But which one? That was the question. There were many goddesses in the Egyptian pantheon after all. Not to mention, gods can change form. Who’s to say this isn’t a male god taking the form of a woman? That would make sense. Even back in these days, while doable, women have always had a tougher time peeing outside than men. Perhaps a male divine took this form as a way to test the kindness of mortals and their willingness to help a stranger. Isis heard everything from Thoth to Ra to Hathor to Nephthis. And yes, there were a few that suggested Isis. But unless Isis took away her disguise (which she never would) there was no way for the mortals to know. They would forever be in a state of not knowing the truth. Isis was rounding forty-five minutes now and her urine rivers had covered all of Alexandria by now. Mortals stepped out of the way as trails flowed down the streets, turning sand into mud. The main source - the hole below Isis’ butt - was now just a three-inch deep crater of mud. Now that her bladder was nearing its final stretch, Isis felt even happier than the time she tricked Ra into revealing his secret name. (Another long story, Isis once took Ra’s drool (taken while the sun god was napping) and used said drool with her magic to make a poisonous snake. The snake bit Ra and Isis - being a goddess of healing - was the only one who could cure him. She agreed to do so if he revealed his secret name Ra eventually did so, on the condition that Isis only trust the name with her son, Horus. Egyptian gods’ secret names are powerful. Hence why they are secret! You could destroy a god with the use of their secret name! Isis just wanted Ra’s secret name as leverage. You know, in case she ever needed it). Isis’ once powerful gush slowed to a trickle. The trickling lasted for a few more minutes. Isis - while waiting - silently used her abilities to remove the water sounds from her ear. They had been so delightful when desperate, but now that she was empty, they were pretty much useless. Isis shook her butt around to dribble the last of her liquid waste into the sand below. Isis stood and lowered her skirt. “Ahh…” She sighed. “Much better,” completely owning what she had just done. Isis knew what they would ask next. Her pregnant belly was gone and after a forty-five-minute urination that flooded the streets, there would be questions. Isis handled it the same way she always did whenever she did this. “Yes, mortals,” she said. “I am a goddess. I wanted to test your hospitality. I am pleased to say, you all passed.” Turning to a shocked, Harsiesis, Anta, Ehoou, and Sitra, she added, “And while some of you came up with a flawless solution which you achieved through teamwork skills and resourcefulness,” addressing the crowd as a group. “Everyone I asked for help attempted to do so in the best way they knew how. I am a goddess, but I shall not reveal which one. That is as secret as a god’s secret name.” The crowd began to whisper to one another. Isis smiled, knowing full well that even after she left, this city would be debating over which goddess came and pissed all throughout their beloved city. “As thanks, I shall protect this city from any and all disasters,” Isis promised. “Also,” looking back to a dazed Sitra, Harsiesis, Ehoou, and Anta, she spoke, “I believe I owe you four a new game.” With a finger snap, a large wooden board appeared in their hands. Each member of the four found themselves holding a corner of the bright and shiny new game. “Thank you, mortals,” Isis said. “Now that my bladder is drained, I must be on my way.” Before anyone could say anything else, Isis vanished into a flash of light. While Isis spoke the truth about wanting to test the mortal’s hospitality, that was only a small, small, small, tiny, microscopic part of the reason she did this. But the mortals didn’t need to know that she did this as a way to turn herself on. Now it was time to return to the heavens and masturbate to the thought of today’s events! The goddess of magic and motherhood sure would have some fun tonight!
Back to Greek mythology, I wrote a story about the heroine Atalanta. Atalanta is personally my all-time favorite Greek hero/heroine! From all she did to the Calydonian Boar Hunt to sailing with Jason and the Argonauts to her famous footrace, Atalanta has certainly earned her place in the hall of ancient Greek heroes! Atalanta kept her legs crossed real tight, regretting the vast amounts of water she had consumed. Atalanta had spent her morning hunting rabbits and birds and deer. All of that hunting worked up a good thirst! As soon as she returned to her father’s palace, she sat down with an entire buffet of water. Atalanta had downed picture after picture, goblet after goblet of H2O. The water had been so delicious that she had been completely oblivious to how much she was drinking. She has also forgotten about the race being held today. Atalanta now found herself standing in front of the race track, trying her hardest not to squirm. Surrounding Atalanta was an army of strong gentlemen, all of whom wished to take her hand. Atalanta couldn’t deny that it was flattering she had so many suitors. But after receiving that prophecy that her future marriage would be her downfall, she was completely turned off by the idea of marrying anyone. What was wrong with the single life anyway? Atalanta had defeated a giant monstrous boar, sailed the seas with Jason and the Argonauts, defeated Peleus in a wrestling tournament in Iolcus, and had countless other heroic tasks. Atalanta just loved waking up in the morning and going on a solitary hunt. The last thing she needed was a husband to tie her down. In retrospect, Atalanta was still a little hung up on Meleager. Meleager had been such a kind, handsome, heroic young man. And now he was dead. Atalanta would be telling the lie of the century if she said she didn’t still care for him. At this point in her life, Atalanta saw no reason to get married. But all of these problems seemed trivial compared to what she had brewing inside her bladder. Atalanta could feel swarms of pressure collecting directly on top of her sphincter. How she desired to take a piss break! Atalanta could always ask her father - the one orchestrating this event - for a quick bathroom break, but she knew he was under enough stress as it was. It was a difficult thing to try and prevent your child from getting married when they had a hundred or so suitors. Most fathers would happily send their daughters off to get married without a second thought. But as it was, the prophecy still hung in the air. King Iasus of Arcadia - Atalanta’s father - didn’t want Atalanta to endanger her existence any more than she did. Still, Atalanta’s bladder was about to be her downfall! She would just have to be patient and hold. But the thought of running with a steaming waterlogged organ sloshing around inside seemed less than ideal. Aside from hunting, archery, and marathoning, Atalanta was known to have an impressive bladder captivity. She used to have holding contests with the crew of the Argo. While all of the men would have to piss after a few hours, Atalanta could hold throughout the entire day. Normally, a few pints of water on her bladder was nothing to sweat over. But Atalanta hadn’t peed since noon yesterday. She meant to, of course, but she kept getting distracted. Like this morning, her satyr god friend Pan came to her and mentioned a drinking contest taking place in the woods. Atalanta joined the festival in the woods of Arcadia and competed with the satyrs and nymphs. Atalanta drank twice as much beer as the rest of them combined. Beer was a beverage considered barbaric, but the nature spirits are a wild bunch. If that’s not enough, Atalanta spent the entire morning hunting without a single break. She had been too engaged in the sport to stop even for a second. Now she was regretting it big time. Atalanta isn’t one of those girls that gets goosebumps at the very idea of peeing in the woods. Atalanta has to go, she will gladly pop a squat behind a friendly bush. Heck, she was ready to squat here with everyone watching! But when Atalanta has her mind on something, she has a tendency to forget even the most basic of needs like breathing or peeing. Now with twenty-six hours of piss storming inside her balloon, and beer and water churning around and around, Atalanta knew she would have to urinate soon. Holding this much beer and water inside for so long would have been impossible for any mortal. Only the gods could hold back such a flood. Everyone always says Atalanta has the beauty of a goddess, so why not a bladder captivity as well? Atalanta bent down and stretched her hands out on the dirt trail, lifting her rump in the air. The pressure inside forced Atalanta to lift her leg and jam it up her pee hole. Atalanta’s toga bunched up and her whole body was shaking. Beside her was the first suitor she was racing. The suitor was also in a starting position with his hands in the dirt and butt in the air. The suitor glanced over at Atalanta, partly concerned, partly aroused. Atalanta could not show any signs of weakness. She had to show all of her suitors that she was not only a strong, independent woman, but she also had zero interest in marriage. Atalanta could feel her bladder shake like an icicle about to fall. She chomped down on her lower lip, praying to the gods to allow her to hold on. “On your mark, get set,” King Iasus called. “GO!” Atalanta’s suitor jumped to his feet and sped down the track with feet of fire. Atalanta remained behind, counting to ten in her head. Atalanta was such an amazing runner, that one of the rules was, she had to give all of her contestants a head start of ten seconds. It was the only real way to make the race fair. And that’s not even bragging. If the ten-second head start didn’t exist, Atalanta would slaughter her opponent instantly. (Literally and figuratively). Atalanta’s mental counter had reached six when she felt her overly full bladder stab her ribs. Atalanta winced in sheer pain. She had to do this. She could not allow herself to get married! While the idea of marriage in itself wasn’t the most appealing thing to Atalanta, it was even less ideal when she considered that rotten prophecy from the Oracle of Delphi. ‘Should Atalanta marry, she would face her downfall.’ Marriage was definitely off the table. So, Atalanta would have to crush her opponent. There was just no other option for her! When Atalanta finished counting, she spotted her suitor at the halfway mark on the track. Time to show these boys what real running looks like! Hunting knife enclosed in her fist, Atalanta flew across the track, her feet barely touching the soil. Atalanta’s hot bladder was bouncing up and down, up and down inside. Atalanta felt as though she was dragging around a two-ton pumpkin behind her. It was weighing her down and she so badly wanted to let go of it, just drop it into the dirt. But she couldn’t. She had to take that heavy item with her wherever she went. Thankful that no one could see her on this section of the track, Atalanta stuffed her free hand down her toga, cupping her pussy with all the strength she had. Atalanta squeezed herself, giving herself as little relief as she possibly could. The suitor had made it to the three-quarter mark just as Atalanta rounded the bend onto the second half of the track. With disappointment, Atalanta knew she had to let go of herself now. She was once again in full view of the awe-inspired crowd. Disappointingly dropping her hand to her side, and pumping it through the air, Atalanta quickened her pace, zipping across the plain like a cheetah that drank a speed potion. The suitor was nearly at the finish line. Atalanta’s heavy burden bubbled and hissed inside her belly. Atalanta’s stomach was inflated with the massive thing. The pressure was driving her nuts. She sucked it up and gave herself another burst of speed. The next thing that happened, Atalanta caught up to her suitor and plunged her knife directly into his back. That was the bet. Any man brave enough raced Atalanta, but if she caught up to him before he finished the track, he paid with his life. The crowd cheered for Atralanta as she ended the life of yet another suitor. Atalanta imagined how good it would feel to do the potty dance right now. She could just knit her knees together and hop around like a drunk bunny. But she refused to have people see her like that. “Very good, Atalanta,” Iasus said with pride in his daughter. Clapping, the king then said, “Ready for your next race?” Atalanta knew the wise thing would have been to ask for a break. But after all the work she has done to prove to everyone - including herself - that she is a strong woman, she found herself replying, “Bring on the next suitor.” So, Atalanta once again spent her day racing and murdering suitor after suitor. Even with a bladder the size of a dragon’s kidney, Atalanta was still the fastest marathoner in Greece. Her bladder was constantly stinging her very essence, but she somehow managed to not leak a single drop. The worst part was for sure the bouncing her bladder had to endure as she pounded across the race track. Atalanta spent the first section of track slyly holding her privates. This small break of relief - where no one could see her - sure aided Atalanta in helping to hold out for the rest of each race. Atalanta was aware that her moves were getting wilder and wilder. After the fourth race, she held one leg in the air and kept it pressed to her genitalia. In the middle of the sixth race, she had to bend down and clutch herself for a split second before continuing. Right before the seventh race began, she twisted her legs into a knot for a brief moment before untying them and starting the race. Atalanta was sure people noticed these movements. Her father once asked her if she was okay. Atalanta lied that her legs were sore, but she insisted she was fine to continue. At one point, Iasus pulled his daughter aside to remind her that if she lost a single race, she would have to get married and if the oracle was to be believed - which she should be, seeing as she was always right - then Atalanta would experience some sort o ‘downfall’ once married. Like Atalanta needs a reminder of what was at stake! “I’m only reminding you of this, my daughter,” Iasus said softly. “Because I want you to take care of yourself. I have noticed some strange movements on your part. If you are feeling ill, tell me right now so I can cancel the rest of these races for today. We can always reschedule. The last thing I want is for you to get married and have this horrible prophecy come true.” Iasus rested his hand on Atalanta’s shoulder. It was hard for Atalanta to believe that this was the same man who abandoned her as a baby. Long story short, Iasus wanted a son, so he left Atalanta on a mountain to die. Fortunately, Atalanta was raised by a family of bears, blah, blah, blah, she one day found her father, and now the two of them were on good terms. Iasus may not have been dad of the year, but he did care about Atalanta. (Minus when he tried to kill her, that is). Atalanta knew she should tell her dad the truth. Her bladder was screaming at Atalanta to be upfront right then and there. But the tiny piece of Atalanta’s brain that was not underwater in a yellowed-down sea yet refused. Atalanta just couldn’t bring herself to mention how bad her need was. It wasn’t that she was embarrassed. Heck, Atalanta would gladly shout from the rooftops every time she was ready to have a bowel movement! Telling her father she had to hiss out some piss was no issue for her. But given the circumstances and how everyone expected Atalanta to be a strong heroine, she felt it her obligation to once again turn down a bathroom break. What would her crewmates of the Argo say? Atalanta could hold her urine at bay longer than any man aboard that ship. It would be shameful if she could not contain her waters for a few more minutes. Besides, there were only three races left for the day. She would wrap them up and she would pee. And she would happily use a nearby bush to do her business. Atalanta was already planning out where she would relieve herself. No point in going back to the castle, she would pee right around the track. But where? Anywhere looked good. No, Atalanta had to focus. No pissing yet! Atalanta started the third to final race of the day. After a count of ten, she took off. Atalanta’s belly was jiggling under her bladder like a barrel of chunky milk. Her bladder was hard to the touch and incredibly painful. With every step Atalanta took, she felt closer and closer to exploding all over the place. But she clenched her muscles tightly, forcing her sphincter to remain locked in place. Atalanta managed to defeat yet another suitor and now had two left for the day. Each race was more excruciating than the last. Atalanta soared down the race track, charging as fast as she could possibly manage. Atalanta imagined that there was a chamber pot at the end of the track. That allowed her to zoom even faster than ever before. Atalanta destroyed yet another suitor. One left. Only one race to go and Atalanta was ever more frantic for relief. She could hardly wait. Excitement flooded her like her urine would flood the grass. Atalanta would complete this final race and she would dive behind the nearest bush, not caring who saw. If anything, Atalanta wanted people to see, she wanted her suitors to acknowledge the fact that she wasn’t your ordinary woman. Atalanta could hold it like a champ, and she could urinate whenever she saw fit. Atalanta’s golden waters had stretched her bladder walls to the max. She imagined her bladder so full that it turned bright red with a danger warning and her pee backed up into the ureters. Atalanta needed relief right away! As she counted to ten for the final time of the day, her legs were constantly kicking behind her. Atalanta lifted a hand from the track to give her womanhood a nice, hard squeeze. Atalanta still refused to leak, but she felt the pressure skyrocket on her pussy. There was a pressure greater than the entire Mediterranean Sea resting on her vulva. It was so painful that Atalanta wanted to cry. She was sweating profusely. And it wasn't the exercise of the race nor the heat that was causing it. The sole activity of holding back this much fluid was causing Atalanta’s entire body to shut down. Even on the Argo she never held this much. Atalanta thought of her drinking content with Pan and the wood nymphs. She thought of all the water she consumed just a few hours before, after her hunting session. This urination was going to happen soon and Atalanta could not wait to rid herself of this unwanted pressure! Atalanta finished counting and took off. Her body was shaking and sweating. Atalanta was running much slower than before. She had to spend so much energy into holding back the flood, she found the activity of running to be extra tiring. Atalanta completed the first half of the track all while dancing back and forth. Thank the gods this suitor she was currently racing was pretty slow himself. This was one of the more slow suitors Atalanta has raced thus far. But even the slowest suitor was much faster than a full-bladdered Atalanta. Atalanta started these races off by creaming her competition. Even with a bladder in a blazing hot, swollen to the size of a moon crater, state. After having raced many suitors already, however, Atalanta was shaking and just wanted to end this. Atalanta tried to imagine that a chamber pot was at the end of the track, just as she did before. This little bit of motivation helped slightly. Atalanta was able to pick up speed. But the weight of her bladder was so strong now, that if Atalanta didn’t keep her legs crossed at all times, she was sure to lose a great deal of cargo. Atalanta had to keep herself twisted or else her bladder would force its way out past her whimpering sphincter. Atalanta could see it now… She runs along the track and an entire balloon falls out of her urethra and splatters open once hitting the ground. Urine would soak all of Arcadia. Atalanta grit her teeth and shoved down those thoughts. Hobbling along, she pushed forward. The suitor was almost at the finish line. Atalanta badly wished she had asked her father for a break before when he asked. Iasus was right. If Atalanta got married, the prophecy of Delphi would be kicked into motion. Atalanta would suffer a great downfall due to marriage. No! After all, she has been through with the Calydonian Boar, the golden fleece, the funeral games of Iolcus… Atalanta could not earn an L just because she was holding a tad too much urine in the tank. Atalanta thought of her past romance, Meleager, the prince of Calydon. Atalanta wondered what Meleager would have to say about her current condition. Meleager had supported Atalanta when no one else would. When the rest of the Calydonian Boar hunters refused to allow Atalanta - a woman - to join the hunt, Meleager stuck up for her. When Meleager offered Atalanta the boar’s head as a trophy and his uncle took it away, Meleager defended her. (Granted, Meleager murdered his own uncle, but still…) Her bladder was ready to shred past her sphincter just as her suitor was preparing the final few steps to cross the finish line. Atalanta kept the thoughts of Meleager in her mind, recalling every single time he defended her when his own men disrespected her and her gender. Atalanta would not go down like this! She was a strong woman! Atalanta was the fastest marathoner in all of Greece. Her mentor, Chiron the centaur told her that himself. Atalanta didn’t care who saw. She clutched her lady bits with both hands and galloped across the track. Atalanta’s knife sunk into the flesh of her suitor right before he crossed the finish line. Iasus wiped sweat from his brow, relieved that his daughter didn’t have to get married and doom herself. That was close! But what Atalanta was about to do would be even closer. Atalanta stashed her bloody knife in her robes and blasted across the field of grass, leaving a trail of flames behind her. Atalanta charged into the nearest brush, threw her toga upward, squatted down, spread her legs, and… “GUUAHHHHHH!!!” Atalanta’s scream was the only thing more powerful than her hiss. A torrent worthy of Poseidon himself gushed from Atalanta’s womanhood. A river of shining gold fell from in between her thighs. The waterfall was as wide as a drachma and as loud as a raging rapid. Sweat dripped down Atalanta’s face and she panted. Urine rushed from her pee hole at super speeds. Atalanta knew there was no force on earth as swift as the river between her legs. (Not even her!) Atalanta, feeling parched, reached into the folds of her robe and produced a canister of cold and fresh water. Atalanta’s teeth iced over as she began chugging down the liquid, completing the circuit between mouth and urethral opening. Refreshed, she put the canister away and sighed. Atalanta was shielded behind her loving shrub, but the crowd of people who gathered to watch the races had their eyes fixed on her. Iasus also stared in awe at his gushing daughter. In an attempt to secure her privacy, Iasus began to rush everyone away. Iasus wasn’t the same man that abandoned Atalanta all those years ago, that’s for sure. As the crowd cleared out, Atalanta was left alone in the bushes beyond\ the race track. Atalanta held her head back and gulped down some saliva. The relief was heavenly. Atalanta felt more satisfied than when she shot the Calydonian Boar in the eye. She was more at peace than when she belched and drank with the Argonauts. A lake of pee was accumulating in the dirt. Atalanta had to go so badly that her stream was sloppy. She ended up splashing her feet and a stray dribble rolled down her legs. Atalanta is usually an expert at peeing outside. She grew up in the wilderness with bears after all! But Atalanta’s bladder was so bursting full of wee that her stream was incredibly messy. Atalanta was at the point where she would have gladly pissed all over herself. She just needed to void! And she finally, finally was. This was the best feeling ever. She wouldn’t have to get married and she was draining all of that water and beer all in one go. Her bladder bulge began to shrink. Atalanta imagined the gods of Olympus and the glorious pisses they must take with their giant bladders. Atalanta remained crouched behind the bushes for several long minutes. Even the gods would have been impressed with this pee. Just when Atalanta thought she was done, a new and even more powerful squirt emerged. Atalanta spent an embarrassingly long amount of time draining her aching urinary sack. After holding for over a day and drinking so much, Atalanta would have been more surprised if this pee was quick. It just shows how similar Atalanta’s bladder is to the gods. Atalanta hissed into the earth for several more minutes. Who says humans can’t spend ten minutes spraying urine? It only takes a huge bladder captivity, many drinks, a long holding time, and most importantly, several footraces to stir things up. Atalanta drip-dried herself until the last bits of pee fell from her damp pussy. She stood and fixed her toga. Atalanta wiped the sweat from her own brow and came out from behind the bush which was now soaked in glistening piss. As Atalanta passed the track - now littered with bleeding deceased suitors - Atalanta could hardly wait for tomorrow when she would do all of this again. But hopefully, she would urinate before the races. Although, that magnificent feeling of the pressure-lowering internally was well worth every second of pain. Next stop, Atalanta would journey to her bedroom to have some solo fun. That urination really got her going!
This next story was a suggestion from @warham1995. This story is about the Norse goddesses Freya goddess of love, fertility, war, and magic, and Frigg the Queen of the Asgard gods, and the goddess of motherhood and marriage. Enjoy! Freya kept her legs crossed under her dress. If only she thought to pee before venturing to Odin’s feast. Truth be told, Freya didn’t even need to go that badly. When she left her own palace, Sessrúmnir in the lands of Fólkvangr, Freya diffidently felt a small twinge in her bladder. But it was easily distractible. The urge was on the low side of things, so Freya just saddled up her chariot and went on her way to Odin’s with the intention of peeing later. But as she drove her chariot over the icy terrain, every bump in the road jolted her bladder, making the goddess of love closer and closer to losing control. Freya was one of the most powerful Vanir gods, she would not piss herself like a weak mortal would! Freya crossed and uncrossed her legs repeatedly, the urge building with each bump her chariot passed. The two large cats yanking Freya’s chariot barreled onward, none the wiser of their mistress’ predicament. Freya wanted to holler at them to be careful, but she was afraid her wise felines may catch onto her discomfort. So, the goddess of fertility kept her mouth shut and endured the rest of the agonizing ride in silence. After many more bumps in the road, Freya’s cats drew to a slow stop. Freya’s chariot stood before a grand palace, twice the size of her own. Odin’s palace stood at the center of Asgard with the Bifrost bridge off to its side. Freya parked her chariot in the lot and dismounted. Just standing up caused all of Freya’s internal pressure to zip down onto her womanhood. The goddess lifted a leg to his crotch and grit her teeth in agony. Freya noticed her cats staring at her. While her team of animals may not have been able to speak, they were as wise as Freya was and able to understand human situations. Freya quickly regained her posture and sat her foot back on the ground. “My leg fell asleep,” the goddess of fertility lied. “It was a long ride from Fólkvangr.” That was a lie, and no one knew that better than Freya’s cats, the ones who pulled the chariot. In reality, Fólkvangr was so close, Freya could have just walked. The chariot ride was less than five minutes. But she didn’t know what else to say. Freya’s cats exchanged looks, clearly skeptical about their mistress’ statement. Freya brushed them off. They were just cats. They went in a litter box - granted a giant one - they knew nothing of human needs. Swiping a hand at her feline friends as a way to tell them to drop it, Freya turned and hobbled up the massive staircase and into Odin, the all-father’s, grand hall. “There’s my sis,” Freyr the Norse god of peace, fertility, rain, and sunshine approached Freya. Freyr had his arms outstretched, as he advanced towards Freya. Freya gulped, knowing full well what was about to happen. The goddess of love readied herself to tell her brother she was in no mood for a hug. But if she did that, she would surely be questioned on why. And that was a question she couldn’t answer without humiliation. So, Freya sucked it up and allowed her twin brother, Freyr to squeeze the life out of her. Freyr has always been a big hugger. He acted as if he hadn’t seen his twin in six years. Freyr grabbed Freya and lifted her off the ground. That movement alone forced the goddess’ bladder to cower. To worsen her situation, Freyr gave Freya the most intense squeeze of the goddess’ immortal life. Freyr’s arms closed around Freya’s center, flattening her bulging bladder farther into her abdomen. Freya could feel her brother’s large arms pinch her bladder, making her ready to spurt. Freya could do nothing but bare down on her muscles and make a face of agony. Fortunately, with Freya’s head pointed the opposite direction, Freyr couldn’t see her look of torture. “Freyr, put your sister down, you're hurting her,” said Njörd, god of the wind and the sea and the father to twins Freya and Freyr. Njörd came clambering over, using his oar as a walking stick. “Huh?” Freyr looked ashamed, quickly setting his twin sister down. “Sorry, sis.” “It’s fine, you weren’t hurting me,” Freya lied, crossing her leg casually in front of her. “Good to see you, dear,” Njörd said, giving Freya a much more gentle hug than Freyr. While a second hug wasn’t ideal, it was still preferred to the bladder-bursting hug Freyr gave. “Hi, daddy,” Freya kissed her father on the cheek. “Ah, my girl, the most beautiful of the goddesses,” Njörd mused, tucking his daughter’s hair behind her ear. Freya blushed. “Oh, daddy, stop…” “You okay, sis,” Freyr asked, worry in his tone. “You look… Odd…” Freyr’s eyes looked his twin up and down, landing on her slightly gelatinous state. No matter how hard she tried, the lovely Freya couldn’t stop bouncing. Her bladder was roaring louder than Gjallarhorn (the horn to signal Ragnarök). The goddess of love had to clutch her dress in her fists to keep from grabbing at her goddess parts. She could feel embarrassment flush her face. “My legs are just sore from the long chariot drive over,” Freya lied. “Isn’t your palace only a five-minute ride from here?” Freyr asked. “What is with everyone and knowing the exact layout of Asgard?” Freya spat. Freyr recoiled. “Sorry, sis, no need to get testy, I just…” “I’m not testy!” Freya snapped, probably not helping her case. “I’m fine, okay, I’m just going to go and mingle.” Before her father or brother could say another word, Freya darted off between the long tables. Freya could always use the bathroom, but as a goddess of war, she never liked the easy way out. As a Viking goddess, the way Freya saw it was this was war. Her bladder vs her willpower. No matter how much her bladder acted out, Freya would not urinate. To do so was a sign of weakness. And Freya - being the most attractive and strongest female deity - was by no means weak. Bathrooms were for the weak. Freya was a strong goddess and she could manage a little bit of water in her system. Freya explored the halls as gods and goddesses filled in, all of them in conversation with one another. Freya took a soft breath, forcing her mind to relax. She was a strong goddess and she would not be bullied by her bladder. Freya removed her legs from one another and walked normally. She could feel her ball of urine swish around from side to side in her abdomen. But she ignored the constant signals being sent to her brain and continued walking along the halls of Odin, as though nothing was wrong at all. Freya spotted Frigg who was carrying a large horn filled to the brim with mead. Frigg poured mead in the goblets laid out on the table. It was Frigg, the Queen of Asgard’s duty, to provide the mead at her husband, Odin’s banquets. While watching golden liquid pour from horn to cup, an unbearable sloshing sound echoed off the metal glass and appeared to shake the grand hall. Freya, however, was the only one that appeared to feel the true power of the sound of alcohol. At least, that’s what she originally thought. Freya then realized, even as she poured the drinks, Frigg was arching her lower legs repeatedly in a sort of dancing motion. This was a dance that Freya knew all too well. The bathroom dance! Freya braced herself and approached the desperate queen. “Frigg,” Freya called. Frigg turned. The queen pushed the horn of mead to her crotch, using the horn to hold her genitalia in the sliest way possible. “Freya, hello,” Frigg said, still moving her legs in an ebb-and-flow pattern. “Is there something you need?” Freya debated how to answer this. One particular word rang in her mind. “The bathroom,” she replied. The only reason Freya felt comfortable admitting this was due to the fact that Frigg also clearly needed to go. “I feel you,” Frigg moaned, staring to the ceiling. “But there are many more drinks to pour. Do you know where the bathroom is or do you need me to direct you?” “No thanks,” Freya said. “I don’t plan on using it either. I’m too tough to go and take a leak. I can easily hold it until the feast is over.” “Me too,” Frigg nodded. “We are truly powerful goddesses, Freya. We can hold our piss until the feast has concluded. I just fear I may give in and go.” ‘What do you mean?” “Like…” Frigg looked around to make sure no one could hear. Leaning in, she whispered, “Freya, between us goddesses, I urgently need to go. I haven't gone in a solid month and it is catching up to me fast. I fear my urge may get the better of me and I’ll be forced to leave the feast to urinate like some lesser goddess.” Freya considered this. Her urge was also rapidly building. If the goddesses didn’t do something, they may succumb to the pressure of their heavy bladders and use the toilet. Neither goddess wanted this. As arguably the two most powerful female deities in the entire Norse pantheon, it would be pathetic for them to have to widdle before the feast ended in a few hours. But as their bladders filled and grew more and more uncomfortable, the goddesses knew very well they may fall to the temptation the restroom provided. If only there was something… Or someone that could help us resist the urge, Freya thought to herself. And aloud to Frigg, she said, “I have an idea.” Thor the thunder god sat with his feet up on the table, leaning back on the wooden bench. Thor’s head was turned back and he poured some mead poured by Frigg, Thor’s stepmom, down his all-powerful gullet. Freya and Frigg approached the son of Odin. Thor let out a powerful belch and looked up as he saw the two goddesses walk towards him. “Hey, Thor,” Freya said. “Hi, Thor,” said Frigg. “‘Supp, ladies,” Thor replied, taking a large gulp of mead. “How’s it going?” “Pretty well, I suppose,” Freya replied. “We actually came to ask you for a favor.” Licking his empty goblet, Thor slammed the metal on the table and sat up straight. “What can I do you for?” Thor lifted up his mighty hammer, Mjölnir and heaved it over his shoulder. The hammer crackled with electricity. “Need me to bash some heads for you?” The goddesses looked at one another and then back to the temperamental thunder god. “Uh, no,” Frigg said simply. “Actually, Thor,” Freya cleared her throat. “This is a tad bit awkward to share with you, but Frigg and I… Really need to use the bathroom.” Thor’s face was a mix of emotions. But the two that stood out were confusion at why they were telling him this and disappointment that he didn’t need to bash heads. “Okay…” Thor said, not knowing what else to say. “You see, Thor, Freya and I are two very powerful goddesses,” Frigg said. “We are strong and mighty, it would be mortifying to our power, if we urinated in such a short time frame. This feast is only a few hours. What goddesses would we be if we peed within that time.” “Even if no one sees us go, we would never forgive ourselves for urinating before the feast is out,” Freya said. “But we fear the urge will get so strong that we will be forced to rush to the toilet.” “So, we ask you, Thor,” Frigg batted her eyelashes at the thunder god. “Please, oh, please, courageous Thor,” Freya smiled in her most captivating way. “Do not let us pee. No matter how much we need it, no matter how we beg, do not let us go.” “We don’t care if you must tackle us on our way to the loo,” Frigg added. “Freya and I are too puissant to take a little tinkle like a small bladdered mortal. We refuse to piss until the feast is out and we ask you to see to it that we do not go.” Thor frowned. “I don’t know,” he said. “We may be gods, but even we must pee from time to time. It’s nothing to be shameful of. If you want my advice, just go. No one will think less of you.” The goddesses looked at one another once more. Freya placed a gentle hand on Thor’s shoulders, crossing her legs under her. “Please, oh, strong Thor… If anyone can keep us from the toilet, it is you.” “You are so big and strong, Thor,” Frigg took a seat on Thor’s lap, folding her shaking legs as she did so. Twirling Thor’s beard, Frigg then said, “Please keep us from urinating before the feast ends. We do not wish to soil our reputation as strong Viking goddesses, after all.” Thor flinched, having two of the most attractive - if not the most attractive - Norse female deities crawling all over him. Thor may be a son of Odin, but he was only man. “O… Okay, if you insist,” Thor replied. Then with much more confidence, “Don’t worry, ladies, you shall not leak a drop on my watch!” “Thank you, oh powerful, Thor,” Freya whispered in the thunder god’s ear, and then both goddesses gave him a kiss on each cheek. With Freya on his left cheek and Frigg on his right, Thor turned as red as freshly spilled blood. “We shall sit next to you,” Freya took a seat beside Thor. “That way, if either FrIgg or I try to make a run for the restroom, you can hold us down.” Each goddess sat on either side of the still-blushing thunder god. It wasn’t long until Odin started the feast. Gods and goddesses alike took their seats while the all-father announced his gratitude to have all of his family and friends at his banquet, blah, blah, blah. Neither Frigg nor Freya could hear Odin too well over the increasing urgency their bladders were producing. Frigg stared down at the wooden table, her hands secured into the folds of her silky dress. Freya meanwhile kept her legs crossed as tight as possible and drummed her fingers on the table as a way to distract herself. Unlike Frigg, Freya kept her eyes on Odin and did her hardest to focus on his boring speech. As tiresome as Odin’s words were, they were a good way to distract her from her bladder. (If Odin’s speech was a little more rousing, maybe it would have helped. But as it was, Odin was so dull, Freya doubted any of the gods were paying attention). After what felt like months of emotionless drag, Odin finally said in his dry tone, “Now, let us feast.” The gorgeous Huldras served platters of bread, meat, and dairy. The divine gods happily dug into their meal. Engaged in enjoyable conversation, it was slightly easier for the two goddesses to forget their bladder’s woes and have a grand time at the feast. “So, Freya, how are your daughters doing?” Thor asked. “Fine,” Freya replied. “As my daughter, Gersemi has many gentlemen callers, naturally. And Hnoss is making friends and breaking hearts. It is tough for all of us right now as my husband, Odr, is once again traveling the nine worlds on business.” “That’s too bad,” Thor said, biting into a large piece of goat. “On the bright side, when I cried, my tears brought to life a field of daisies,” Freya mentioned. Thor lifted his refilled goblet - courtesy of Frigg. “Silver lining,” Thor said supportively. “Yeah,” Freya ran her hands up and down her calf. “You okay, Frigg?” Thor asked, turning to his right. There sat the Queen of the Aesir gods. Frigg wasn’t touching her food. Instead, her eyes were fixated on her goblet of mead. Frigg watched as a series of bubbles rose to the surface and popped. The yellow alcohol seemed to be taunting Frigg. The goddess of marriage wanted to toss her goblet out the window. Just looking at the concoction filled Frigg’s urinary bladder with panic. Frigg jumped to her feet, banging her knees on the underside of the table. Frigg opened her mouth, letting out a silent scream. Her bladder was fluttering against her sphincter, nearly forcing fluid through the muscle barrier. “I’ll be right back,” Frigg croaked out, making to leave. Thor reached out and grabbed the queen’s arm. “Oh no, you don’t,” Thor warned. “You asked me to keep you from the bathroom and that’s exactly as I plan to do.” Frigg’s eyes clouded over. “I… I wasn’t going to use the bathroom…” “Then where, pray tell, were you rushing off too?” Freya asked, taking a slow sip of mead. The goddess of fertility knew she would regret that single sip later, but it was worth it to look so cool and intimidating. “I… Um…” Frigg turned pale. “Sit,” Thor commanded. “You’re too big to run to the bathroom,” Freya said while her toes tapped the air irritably. “How old are you?” Frigg looked close to tears. She had her legs crossed and her hands twitched at her sides, wanting nothing more than to give her godly pussy a nice, long, slow, firm clutch. “You can hold it, Frigg. You are a powerful goddess after all,” Thor reminded a reluctant Frigg. “You’re right,” Frigg exhaled. “I’m the master of my bladder, I’m the master of my bladder…” With that, the goddess of motherhood miserably slunk back down in her seat, rocking around the bench in a desperate attempt to keep her sphincter shut. “You don’t look too good, Frigg,” said a cold voice. Thor, Freya, and Frigg had yet to realize who was sitting across from them. The god’s head had been turning, talking to others in the hall. It wasn’t yet that the group realized sitting directly across from them was none other than Loki the god of mischief himself! “Are you all good?” Loki asked in a taunting tone. “Buzz off, Loki,” Thor snapped. “I think I speak for all of us when I say, we are in no mood for you or your tricks.” Loki furrowed his brow. “Thor, still salty over the whole Sif incident. She told me to cut off her hair.” Thor slammed his fist on the table, causing a crater to form in the wood. “My wife’s hair was her best attribute! No one wanted her to lose it less than she! I am warning you, you are on thin ice trouble maker!” “Thin ice? Oh no,” Loki said sarcastically, drawing circles on the ring of his goblet with his finger. “Good thing we don’t live in a frozen wasteland where ice is worthless.” Thor’s jaw looked like it was being stretched by hawks. Loki turned his attention from Thor to Frigg. “Have to pee?” Loki asked. Loki said this in a casual tone as though he was asking Frigg’s help on a math problem. “A little,” the queen squirmed. Loki just nodded and helped himself to a loaf of bread. Breaking the bread in half and dunking one half in goat cheese, Loki said, “Why not just go? Why sit there and have your thunder buddy tell you when you are and aren’t allowed to go?” Frigg turned even redder than Thor. “Um, Freya and I don’t want to pee until the feast is over,” Frigg said truthfully. “We are kind of ashamed of having to go this bad. We don’t want our bladders to boss us around, you know…” “I get that,” Loki chomped on his loaf. Mouth full of bread, the trickery god said, “It can be annoying having to pee so bad. You feel pressure on your pelvis and all you can think of is water sloshing around inside.” Both goddesses shuttered at his description. Loki turned to Freya. “You have to go too, Freya?” Freya fired Frigg an irritated look, angry at her for telling Loki she also had to pee. “Just slightly,” Freya folded herself in half. “But my bladder is strong. I can easily hold for a few more days if I need to.” Loki nodded. “I imagine so.” Finishing his bread, the god rose and said, “Well, seeing as you ladies can’t use the powder room, I mind as well keep the seat warm for you. Just hope my aim isn’t off.” Loki flashed them a mischievous wink and then made his way to the bathroom. “Don’t listen to him,” Thor told Frigg and Freya. “Just don’t think about it and you’ll be okay.” Frigg and Freya tried to do just that. But the more they attempted to distract themselves with the driest of thoughts, their subconscious always seemed to tilt back towards their bladders’ needs. The two full-bladdered goddesses managed to eat some of the meal, but Frigg in particular found it tough to get anything down. She felt like she was going to be sick. The meal drew on without too much excitement. But that quickly changed when Thor spotted Loki whispering into Odin’s ear. “What’s that scoundrel up to now?” Thor bellowed. Odin stared at Loki with his one good eye. Odin looked angry but also intrigued by whatever Loki was telling him. Odin then waved Loki off and he grabbed his goblet. Odin clinked fork to glass, grabbing the entire hall’s attention. Loki retook his seat across from Thor, Freya, and Frigg. “What did you do?” Thor scowled as soon as Loki was seated. “Attention, attention, everyone,” Odin called while the talking ever so slowly declined. “It appears that we have a challenge here.” Odin fixed his eyes directly on Thor. Thor flinched in confusion. The rest of the gods and goddesses now gave Odin their full attention. As Viking gods, there was nothing this group loved more than a good old-fashioned challenge! “Frigg and Freya, please come up here,” Odin called. The two goddesses froze in ice. It wasn’t Thor that Odin was looking at. He was looking at the two bursting Norse goddesses who Thor was sitting in between! Freya and Frigg glared at Loki. Thor looked ready to pound Loki into the nearest snow bank. As much as they hated this, Freya and Frigg both knew that they couldn’t turn down a Valhallan challenge! They would be the laughingstocks of the gods. There was nothing more humiliating for a Norse god than to refuse to partake in a fun (and often brutal) challenge. Even though they could barely stand, Frigg and Freya made their way down the rows of tables and up to the head table where Odin sat facing everyone. Normally Frigg sits with him and the three Norns, but Frigg already told her husband she would be sitting with Thor this evening. Odin folded his arms across his chest. His body language suggested he was miffed, but he wore a jolly smile on his face. “Loki tells me that you two have challenged me to a mead drinking contest.” The two goddesses nearly exploded on the spot. Frigg was hunched over, holding onto her knees, and Freya kept her legs double-twisted. Their bladders were full to the brim as was. No way in the nine worlds could they possibly handle alcohol right now! But they could feel all of the gods watching them intensely, eager to hear their rebuttal. Once again, Loki was bent on making everyone miserable. Freya and Frigg couldn’t refuse or they would seem like cowards. There was only one way to make it out of this situation with their dignity intact. “Yes, Odin,” Freya gulped. “We… Mead drinking contest, yes…” “Yeah,” Frigg uncomfortably rested a hand on her severely bloated stomach. Frigg felt fear rattle through her mind. As a goddess with three children, Frigg’s bladder isn’t what it used to be. And Frigg can safely say, she had to pee worse now than she ever did while pregnant! But Frigg is still a goddess. Even with her bladder in its current state, Frigg can contain twelve times more than the strongest bladdered mortal! The same goes for Freya who has had twin girls. “Very well,” Odin rested his hands under his armpits. “It’s a bet. The Norns shall be the judges and this crowd shall be the witnesses. Whoever drinks more mead has to clean all of the toilets in Asgard for a decade. Deal?” The two women trembled. That was a lot of toilets and a long time. Neither one felt too good about their present situation. But they were Norse goddesses! They could hold their waters a little longer while chugging mead. They couldn’t refuse anyway or seem like chickens. While neither Frigg nor Freya felt super confident, they knew they couldn’t turn this down. They both looked at Thor for support. Thor - being the only one to know Frigg and Freya’s dire situation besides Loki - looked back and forth, not knowing what to do or how to help. The two goddesses returned their attention to Odin and together they said, “Deal.” Odin grinned, his twin crows flapping around him. “Very well. May the best drinker win.” Three humongous kegs of mead were set out. Each god, Odin, Freya, and Frigg stood before each keg. Frigg had her legs moving up and down behind her again. Freya, meanwhile, crossed her legs and kept her hands buried in between them. Thankfully, the kegs were so huge, no one could see what the gods were doing behind them. Each keg had a very long and wide straw sticking out of them. The kegs were so massive, that only Thor could lift them. Thor looked skeptical to bring the kegs in, but when Odin threatened him, Thor did as told. Now, Frigg and Freya felt weeks upon weeks of old urine sting their bladder walls, and they stared at the fifty-liter kegs, one in front of each of them, they were expected to drink quickly. The three Norns took their places on stools. Each Norn would keep track of how much each god drank. Urd was watching Freya, Skuld was keeping her eyes on Frigg, and Verdandi was observing Odin. The crowd of eager gods and goddesses pounded their fists in the air, chanting for the contest to start. Giving into the demands of the gathered deities, Urd shouted, “Let the mead drinking contest commence!” Odin wasted no time in slurping down his barrel. Odin’s lips were pulled as far apart as they would go. His gaping mouth rested on the massive metal straw. Mead sped through Odin’s drink, rushing from straw into his immortal form. Freya swallowed down her bladder’s anxiety and placed her lips to the keg as well. Frigg hesitated for a moment. But when she noticed Odin was already a quarter of the way down, she knew she had to drink something! So, Frigg began sipping. Freya was the first to understand the true measure of Loki’s evil plot. Freya instantly felt a pile of rocks smash her sphincter. The pain was so unbearable, Freya withdrew her head from the keg and let out a scream. Mead spilled from the opening of the straw and splattered Freya’s new dress. The goddess collapsed, grabbing hold of her keg for support. Freya’s legs were tied together, a hand fastened to her crotch, causing her dress to wrinkle. Freya’s eyes were so filled with tears, she felt like she was looking underwater. The pressure on her bladder went from uncomfortable to burning-inferno-of-agony-and-unimaginable-pressure. Freya had never had to pee so badly in her entire life. She could already feel droplets trying to escape. But she kept her muscles in place. The goddess of fertility wiggled around, she was a war goddess! She couldn’t stand up here and squirm like some mortal! But the pressure was so powerful, Freya felt like it was eating her from the inside out. What was in this mead! Whatever it was, it appeared to only have an effect on Freya. Odin was nearing the halfway point and he looked totally fine. Freya fixed her eyes on Loki, but he was gone. Freya blinked away tears. She knew for a fact Loki added something to her drink to make her become this desperate so quickly. All eyes were on Freya, concerned about her. Even Odin looked sidelong at the goddess of war, nervous as to her nearly falling. Freya could barely speak. Her pelvis was on fire. Pressure charged her sphincter, making holding more difficult than teaching mortals rune magic. (As much as Freya loved mortals, they were challenging at times). But not nearly as challenging as holding back her already full bladder now mixed with super mead. That’s when Frigg felt the effects. Frigg drank a lot less mead than Freya, so it wasn’t nearly as intense for her. Nevertheless, pressure turned Frigg’s bladder into a sailing ship in the middle of a storm. Frigg knew she was about to crash that ship (her sphincter) and piss all over the place. If Frigg didn’t have to pee before, now she could hardly think. Frigg tumbled to the ground as well, hands in her genitals. Frigg smashed her head on the floorboards, her bum in the air. The goddess wiggled around, not caring who saw. She couldn’t bear this any longer! Just when things couldn’t get any worse, there came a soft dripping sound from above Frigg and Freya’s heads. Drip… Drip… Drip… It was like a leaky faucet coming from inside the ceiling. “What’s that?” Verdandi asked. “Think it’s a leaky pipe or something,” Skuld suggested. Through her tears, Freya forced herself to look up and she couldn’t believe what she saw. Far above her head, there was a woodpecker drilling its beak into a ceiling pipe. Little leaks dripped from the pipe and landed in a perfectly placed glass of water. But the thing that got Freya the most, was that the woodpecker in question had a crooked beak and a mane of well-kept blond hair. Blond hair… Crooked beak… Loki’s two main features were his crooked nose and his well-kept blond hair. Loki was the woodpecker and he was the one drilling into the pipe causing a leak. Drip… Drip… Drip… poured the water into the half-filled glass. Freya felt ready to pop. The pressure inside her belly hurt too much to even stand. The goddess of war just kept her toes crossed and her hands in her dress. Frigg, meanwhile, lay on the floor, moaning and crying. Attention in the hall was removed from the drinking contest and placed onto Frigg and Freya’s suffering. Even Odin didn’t care more about this contest than his wife. “Frigg, Freya, are you two okay?” Odin extended a hand to help his wife up. But Frigg knew she couldn’t move. If she did, she would burst wide open. Freya’s teeth sawed at her lower lip. The goddess stood on one foot with the other wrapped around her leg. She leaned her entire weight against her keg of mead which she barely touched. Freya’s body involuntarily swayed back and forth. Her bladder screamed as it became inflamed with Loki’s dirty trick. Freya squeezed her necklace, Brísingamen, tightly, trying to do what little she could to diverge the torment away from her ferocious piss balloon. Freya’s mind had abandoned her. She could barely concentrate. Freya wished to remind herself that she was an all-powerful war goddess and that she could win this battle with her bladder. But she knew it was untrue. Freya knew she would be kicking herself for this betrayal of her strength later, but she no longer cared about appearing strong. She needed to drain this horrible sensation right away! “I… Need… Bathroom…” Freya made to leave, but she could hardly walk. She just fell back onto her keg again. Pulling herself up, Freya tried again. She managed to make it two measly steps when a cold voice said, “Is that okay with you, Thor?” Loki was back in human form, sitting on top of a table, eyeing the god of the sky. “Only you can give them permission after all? Is it okay with you if Freya and Frigg use the restroom?” Thor became baffled. The obvious answer was yes, they dearly needed it! But the two goddesses made Thor promise not to let them go. Thor looked between the two crumpling goddesses and Loki. “I…” Thor managed. “Well, I… Uh…” This few second delay was all Loki needed for his sinister plot to come full circle. Freya’s sphincter muscle had it. After restricting its flow for weeks on end now, and worse, adding extra labor to its struggle, Freya was the first to cave in. An all-powerful rush filled the hall as Freya’s sphincter contracted and her pee hole opened wider than a patient’s mouth at the dentist's. Freya’s brand-new golden dress was flooded with urine. The dress the dwarfs made Freya of pure gold grew a wet spot on the front. The wet patch expanded outwards and branched in all different directions. Warmth flooded Freya’s legs. She could feel waterfalls blast down her skin. The relief was exquisite! Freya didn’t care that she was pissing herself before all of the gods. She had never felt anything half as luxurious as releasing the pressure that caused her bladder to undergo so much hardship for so long. Freya just rested a hand to her belly and breathed through her nose. She could feel a massive puddle forming below her. The puddle ran down the steps leading to the center table. The gods and goddesses all quickly placed their feet on their benches to avoid getting soaked in Freya’s flash flood. Freya’s mind was as numb as if it had frostbite. The goddess of love didn’t care about a thing other than draining the intense pressure brought on by the heavy mead Loki tricked her into drinking. Freya’s urine stunk of alcohol, confirmed by the many scrunched-up noses of the audience. But Freya was just so happy to finally get this affliction over with, she cared not what happened after this. “Oh, my, Freya!” Loki cried. “Are you wetting yourself?” “Sure am, Loki! Sure am!” Freya shouted proudly. If living among the Aesir gods has taught Freya anything, sometimes confidence is the only thing needed to escape a dastardly experience. Frigg whimpered, closing off her muscles as best she could. The added pressure to her system made Frigg’s whole body tighten. The powerful hissing coming from Freya’s crotch was enough to cause a single squirt to fly out of Frigg’s. The back of Frigg’s dress became damp. The blast was so powerful, it shot right through the fabric of her clothing and soaked the floor behind her. Seeing this, Odin took a step back, bewildered. “Frigg… Dear…” He began. “Stand back, hon,” Frigg whimpered, fighting as long as she could. “I’m gonna blow!!!” And she did. Frigg’s dress switched from white to gray in a matter of seconds. Urine blasted from behind Frigg, power soaking the wall behind her. Frigg continued lying on her face with her butt raised in the air as she wet herself entirely. Whatever wasn’t sopped up by the fabric of her clothes, came out through the dripping wet garment. Small urine streams dribbled from under her. Unlike Freya - who was loving every moment of this - Frigg was screaming in pain. For the goddess of marriage, this was pure torture. Frigg’s stream was four times as powerful as Freya’s. Whereas Freya was able to control her flow (more or less) Frigg’s pent-up bladder blasted urine out of her pee tube at speed so fast, it burned badly. Frigg’s lower body was in pain as urine shot from her and drenched the entire front half of the hall. “And now Frigg is peeing herself!” Loki slapped a hand to his chest. “My word, ladies! Do you have no control!” Silence covered the great hall of Odin. The only noise heard was that of two all-powerful sprays of urine. Frigg sobbed the entire time. For the first part of the relief, Freya just had a pleasant smile on her face, not embarrassed whatsoever. But when the pressure decreased enough for the goddess of love to think straight again, the first thing Freya did was blush and stare down at the tsunami that was coming out of her. Freya could not believe that she, Freya, goddess of war itself, was wetting herself! She should have been able to hold it! Freya - just as she predicted - was furious with herself, but even more so at her bladder, and even more angry at Loki. The tides continued to rise in the great hall. Two massive bladdered goddesses pissed their hearts away. Odin himself was now ankle-deep in urine. The Norns climbed onto a nearby table to avoid the flood. When it was all over - two and a half hours later - the urine level in the great hall was so high, that all the gods had to kneel on top of the tables. Odin was brave enough to stand in the stuff, now knee-deep in his wife and Freya’s bladder-bursting bulk. Both Freya and Frigg were soaked in their own pee. Frigg continued to stand on her hands and knees with urine up to her chest, making her white dress see-through and thus exposing her breasts to the gods. Freya, on the other hand, was standing knee deep - like Odin - in bubbling hot bladder broth. The silence lasted even longer. It was Idun (goddess of youth) that was the first to speak. Staying on her hands and knees, holding onto the side of the table, Idun peered down into the yellow swirling ocean covering every square inch of the main hall. “Whoa,” Idun said. “That’s a lot of pee.” Frigg was still in tears, the salty droplets from her eyes splashed into the lake of pee, making the yellow surface ripple. “Oh, honey, it’s okay,” Odin said softly, helping her to her feet despite both of them dripping in pee. “It’s okay… It… It happens… WHO’S RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS!” Odin bellowed, his soft husband nature switching to that of a vengeful all-father in a matter of milliseconds. Then, Odin turned his attention to someone unexpected. “THOR!!!” Thor jumped so high, he was able to grab onto a ceiling light. “LOKI SAID YOU WERE TELLING MY WIFE AND FREYA WHEN THEY COULD USE THE FACILITIES!!!” Odin trumpeted. “EXPLAIN YOURSELF, THUNDER GOD!!!” Still swinging from the light, Thor stammered, “I, uh, I, um, they, I, ah…” “Don’t blame Thor,” Freya cut in. “Frigg and I got overconfident in our holding abilities. We felt embarrassed being two powerful goddesses that had to rush to the bathroom.” “Well, there is nothing embarrassing about holding this much pee!” Ullr (the god of snow sports) said, standing on a vertical ski pole so he could avoid touching the urine as much as possible. “Freya’s right,” Frigg told her husband, wiping tears from her eyes with her urine-coated fingertips. “We asked Thor not to let us pee. It was our doing. Don’t be mad at Thor.” “Yeah, be mad at Loki!” Freya snouted, rounding on the trickster god. “Loki is the one that tricked you into challenging us to a mead drinking contest when he knew we were this desperate to pee. And he drilled at the pipes to make us have to go worse. And he switched Frigg and my mead for heavy stuff making us fill even faster.” “LOOOOOOKKI!!!” Odin ragged. “Time to fly!” Loki saluted the gods and then shapeshifted into a small horsefly. Loki took to the air and almost got away, but he was captured in between the fingers of Thor - who was still hanging from the ceiling light. Thor jumped down to the table below him. Odin wadded through the swamp of pee, finally reaching the table Thor stood on. Odin’s face twisted with rage. Loki giggled slyly. “Let’s all take a breath,” horse fly Loki suggested. “This whole experience was kinda funny. And you know, I think we all learned something. Like, don’t hold your pee. Or don’t believe everything you hear. Or, I don’t know, if a trickster god plays a prank, you should forgive him. Ooh, I like that last one!” Odin’s eyes narrowed at the tiny fly in between Thor’s fingers. “Loki, I expect this hall to be spotless,” Odin warned. After draining all of the urine, Loki was now on his hands and knees, sponge in hand, bucket brimming with soapy water to his side, and to the trickery god’s discomfort, a bladder ready to burst held back only by crossed legs. “How’s the bladder feeling, Loki?” Frigg teased. “Gotta go, do you?” Freya called. Loki grumbled some curses as he shimmied his weight across the still-damp floor, swabbing up any puddles of urine he came across. Taking a brief break to squeeze his cock, Loki couldn’t believe this terrible turn of events. Cleaning floors covered in urine while desperate to pee himself was Pain. Ful! He didn’t deserve this comeuppance! “And after that,” Thor added. “You can clean every toilet in Asgard. That is your punishment for the next ten years.” “Do a good job today, and we’ll let you pee,” Frigg said. “Fail and you can hold all throughout the night,” Freya warned. As Loki moaned about his wretched luck, Freya and Frigg high-fived.
This next story is about Mars the Roman god of war. Naturally, this story is about male desperation. I normally write strictly female stuff as I am a straight male, but I also know there are plenty of heterosexual women/homosexual men on this site. So, this story is for you guys! Regarding Mars, he is associated with the Greek Ares, however, these two gods were polar opposites. While Ares was a hot-tempered, childish, and frankly an annoying character, Mars was much more tactical, wise, and strong. For the most part, I'm not going to write about the Roman gods because the Greek and Roman gods are basically the same thing. But Mars and Ares are so different, if I'm going to write about anyone, Mars is my best bet! Here goes, enjoy! Mars zipped through the field of wheat. The stocks brushed against his shin, twisting as if trying to give the god of war a great big hug. Mars kept two hands, one placed over the other, piled on top of his crotch. Mars squeezed his member, feeling his bulging bladder spinning in circles, having a full-on panic attack. His blasted bladder was bursting at the seams with wine and nectar and whatever else the Roman god had had to drink over the past few weeks. His armor rattled as he rushed through the crops. He could feel his armor squeeze his bladder like the hand of a giant squishing a bug. Mars could feel countless drops of urine splash up and down. He could feel the waves rolling around inside, crashing into his bladder walls, bearing down on his strained sphincter. Mars hasn’t been this urgent to piss in a long time. Mars cursed himself, knowing this was his fault. Why had he had so much wine at last night’s banquet? Mars had already been celebrating the Romans' victory over their enemies even before they won the battle. Just as Mars had predicted, they won the war and all of the celebratory wine he had in advance did not go to waste. But now it was bursting to come out. On top of this, Mars had pushed off using the powder room for far longer than he should have. He had felt his first urge to alleviate himself nearly two weeks ago. But he was too busy strategizing tactics for this battle that he simply didn’t have time for relief. All Mars did those two weeks was plan, eat, drink, sleep, and feel his bladder fill. He didn’t have time for anything. Not even a micturition break. Mars planned on peeing last night. That way, he would be able to arrive on the battlefield today with a nice and refreshed empty urinary bladder. But alas, Mars had so much to drink at the feast, he had passed out long before getting a chance to step away to the godly lavatory. Fortunately, Mars is a god, so while alcohol affects him as it does all other living beings, his alcohol tolerance is much higher than a mortal’s. In other words, Mars was able to sleep off the effects, with no hangover required. The bad news was that he slept too long. When he awoke, the sun was already rising. As badly as he needed one, he had no time to spare on a restroom visit, rather, he geared up in armor and weapons and sped towards the battlefield. Mars verily hoped that his army of Romans hadn’t noticed his discomfort. While the god was forced to stand on one leg - the other pressed into his pelvis - or grapple at his nethers for quick periods, he didn’t think the Roman legion had noticed his truly awful situation. The worst part was the actual battle. Having to wield a sword on a bladder full to the brim was far less than ideal. The constant jumping and moving and dodging of blades did not help the god’s situation. Every time Mars was forced to make a swift movement, he felt a surge of pressure shimmy up his penis shaft and take over his entire lower body. On one particularly dangerous movement, when Mars was forced to dip down to the dirt and rise again, all while swinging his sword in an arch, a short yet powerful blast of piss fired from his urine hole and soaked the inside of his toga. Thankfully, due to his armor, no one could see the hidden wet spot that was sure to stain the toga he wore underneath. Even now as Mars took flight from his celebratory Roman army, he could feel his bladder sway to and fro inside his godly ribs. Mars’ armor did a swell job of hiding his bladder bump which was surely the size of a three-month pregnant woman. Mars’ bladder continued to give him torment as the god stomped through the fields, in desperate need of a release. Mars could always whip it out and fertilize the crops. But he didn’t think Ceres (Roman goddess of agriculture) would like that very much. Besides, Mars was also a god of fertility. It was one of his more minor roles in the Roman pantheon, but one of his roles, nonetheless. Mars couldn’t shower his urine over the legions fields. What kind of animal would he have to be to do such a disgraceful act? If Mars could conquer entire armies single-handedly, he surely could hold his flood a tad longer. Mars had led the Roman people to victory on numerous occasions. The god was very pleased with the glorious job he did of commanding such a fine army. He wished he could have stuck around to celebrate with his men. But at this very instant, the god of war knew if he did not find a place to drop his urine ball, he would be in serious trouble. Mars’ kidneys were still producing urine, filtering whatever of his late-night wine had yet to be processed. The Roman god had a bladder made of steel. But there was only so much his piss sack could do to contain the waters of much-delayed urination. His bladder stung and his sphincter bellowed curses at the god. Mars drew his feet faster still, in a very despairing state of mind. Mars knew he only had so much time to pee, but there was no place to go out here. He was only a few miles from the spot where the battle took place. It wasn’t like the Romans built bathroom chambers on the site of their wars. When you are fighting in a life or death battle - as Mars is well aware of - you cannot just halt and urinate as you see fit. It isn’t a game of hide-and-seek where you can call a time-out just because someone needs to make potty. It’s kill or be killed, a fight for life and for the rights of Romans everywhere! Mars finally burst from the field of wheat. The Roman god weighed his options. He could teleport to Olympus and piss there. But teleporting may add extra tension to his groin, thus reducing his limited time even more. Come to think of it, Mount Etna wasn’t far. That would take even less strength to travel through teleportation. Mars’ brother, Vulcan (god of volcanos and blacksmiths), owned a forge on the mountain. Vulcan was certain to allow his brother access to his restroom. But was Mount Etna close enough that Mars would be able to hang on to his full pocket of piss through the teleportation process? He decided not to risk it. Showing up at Vulcan’s doorstep in soaked and dripping armor would be the most humiliating experience in the god of war’s entire existence. Not to mention, it would be highly rude for Mars to just abandon his army right after they won a battle. Mars may have taken off, but he had every intention of returning to them as soon as his business was taken care of and celebrating with his army. The heavy feeling in Mars’ abdomen was driving him loopier than a flock of vultures above a freshly deceased carcass. Mars felt fury rising in his chest. The god of war was prepared to smash entire mountains, determined to find a toilet! Mars’ whole body burned with wrath. Mars did not like this feeling and he desired to get rid of it. He was enraged that he could not. Mars’ rage was put into check when he heard familiar voices calling his name. “Mars! Mars!” cried Virtus the Roman goddess of courage and military strength. “Mars!” shouted Honos the god of honor. “Mars, where are you?” trumped Virtus, hand cupped to her lips as a make-shift megaphone. Mars saw Virtus and Honos’ heads sticking a few feet from the fields of crops. Using every swear word he knew, Mars gave his shaking penis the firmest squeeze of them all. He then composed himself and faced his two lieutenants of battle. Virtus and Honos followed Mars around and assisted him in every battle he fought in. Alongside his twin, Bellona, these two gods were Mars’ most trustworthy companions. Honos was the first to spot Mars. The two gods emerged from the rows of wheat and stepped up to Mars. It took all of the war god’s might not to shift around. He pressed his legs as tight as they would go and resisted the urge to grasp his manhood. His poor organ was screaming in pain, but the war god refused to hold it. Not while Virtus and Honos were here anyway. “Mars, you wandered off,” Virtus said in a tone that told Mars she had no idea she was speaking an obvious fact. “Yes,” Mars squinted down at the two smaller deities. His knees were pressed into one another. Mars could feel the pressure build inside. Simply by not holding himself, Mars felt more pressure than ever before. He begged for these two to leave him in peace. “I believe she means, why did you wander off?” Honos clarified. Mars felt his face go as warm as his bladder. Pushing the desperation down, Mars managed, “I just need a moment to collect my thoughts.” “What thoughts?” Virtus asked. “We won the war! That’s a good thing… Correct?” “Of course it is,” Mars scowled. While having a conversation with these two may go in circles from time to time, Mars never found it as painful as he did now. “Look, I just need some alone time,” Mars instructed. “Go back and inform the others that I shall be back within the hour.” Mars hoped that was true. But with his bladder as rock hard as it was now, he doubted he would finish this piss before the century was up. “On second thought,” Mars shuffled his legs upon feeling his bladder pang in his belly. “Tell the legion to return to base and I shall meet them there. We shall celebrate tonight, I promise. But as of now, I need a moment…” Mars readied his lips to add that he needed a loooong moment. But he figured he got the point across. Apparently, he didn’t. Virtus asked confused, “Why, Mars? Why do you wish to be alone? We just had a grand victory! We should celebrate now! If nothing else, Honos and I should accompany you wherever you are going. Why not have us join you?” Mars’ head filled with curses at Virtus. But he refused to say them aloud. For the goddess of military strength, Virtus’ overly friendly persona always astounded Mars. “Please, Virtus, I wish to be alone,” Mars’ knees stuck together like honey. His voice was far more gravely than it had been a moment before. But Mars could no longer hold back his irritability. The pressure in his bladder was sending his nerves into a spurt of anger. “But why?” Virtus exclaimed. “After such a long battle, you should wish us to…” “Leave me alone, Virtus,” Mars growled, unable to stop himself. Virtus was taken aback by this. Virtus may be a boss at controlling a military’s strength, but she has very thin skin. The smallest insult can upset her. And now, she looked close to tears. Mars’ face dribbled with sweat. Guilt caught up to him. Mars looked to Honos for help. The god of honor just shrugged, not knowing what to do himself. Mars remembered his darling girlfriend, Venus (goddess of love and beauty). Venus once sat Mars down on her lap. Twiddling with his long curly black beard, Venus told her lover gently that he had to learn to control his temper. Easy for her to say. As the goddess of beauty, no matter how many times Venus loses her cool, she can just flash people her smile and or boobs and they instantly forget they were ever mad. Mars, on the other hand, didn’t have a good smile nor boobs to flash. Heaving a sigh, “Virtus, I’m so sorry,” Mars moaned, feeling his penis quake with urgency. “I just really have to use the restroom, okay? I just want to be alone to pee.” The goddess of military strength wiped a tear river from her cheek. “Why not just say so? We would have given you privacy.” “It’s embarrassing,” Mars said, standing on one leg as his opposite leg twirled around his first. “I’m the god of war. I am the second strongest of the Roman gods, only followed by Jupiter himself! I led the Roman armies into battle on a daily basis. We always win with my leadership. The blood-red planet in the sky is named after me. The first month of the year is named after me.” (The month of March was the first month back in these times). “There is a feast in my honor at the beginning of the calendar year. I am a truly powerful and beloved deity,” Mars wailed. “And here I am on the brink of wetting myself… Besides, Bellona would tease me indefinitely if she found out.” Virtus forced a smile. “I get it,” she said. “I’m cranky when I have to go as well. Nothing to be ashamed of. Just because you're powerful doesn’t mean you don’t have the same needs as everyone else.” Virtus playfully slapped Mars on the back. “Go pee. We’ll just tell everyone you had to return to Olympus immediately or something.” Mars was overcome with gratitude. “Thank you, Virtus,” he exclaimed. “You two, Honos!” Honos gave Mars a salute and said, “And as far as Bellona goes, even she has to pee! She has nothing to taunt you about, lord Mars.” Honos then walked off with Virtus at his heels. The two minor Roman gods vanished behind the thicket of wheat stocks. As soon as Virtus and Honos were gone, Mars nearly jumped from his skin. Without his consent, a sharp jet fired from his penis, resoaking the front of his toga. Mars’ chunky fingers flew to his lips. Mars could feel the individual hairs of his long curly beard. It was comforting in a time of crisis. Mars the mighty Roman god of War had leaked twice at this point. And he feared that this next leak would be his last. Mars turned and rushed off in the opposite direction of Virtus and Honos. No bathroom in sight, the Roman god would have to make due. Mars stood at the edge of a tall cliff. The cliff looked down into a valley. Far in the distance, Mars spotted a Roman settlement. But for the most part, this valley was simply nature. There were tall mountains and a flowing river at the bottom of the canyon. The sky was a nice dark color, the way Mars preferred it. Despite being two hundred feet below him, the running water of the creek made Mars’ dance become much more desperate. The war god struggled to remove his armor. With a bladder seconds from popping, Mars’ massive fingers fumbled over the straps. It didn’t help that they were the size of hot dogs. Mars had to take a break to strangle his penis with all his strength. Yanking his penis left and right, Mars shouted angry curses at his disobedient pecker. Mars imagined his sphincter being as strong as his shield. Mars thought deeply of the famous Shield of Mars which was stored in the Roman Forum. The priests of the Forum kept his shield protected. It was the most powerful shield in the land. Nothing could even pierce it. That is my sphincter, that is my sphincter, Mars thought to himself as he reattempted to remove his armor. My sphincter is strong like my shield. It shall not let a drop pass. Sweating and stomping his foot, Mars finally loosened the last strap and allowed his gear to tumble to the ground in a cloud of dust. In a flash of final desperation, Mars lifted his toga, allowing his penis to flop in the springtime air, dangling below his waist, pointing its agony down at the valley far below. Standing on the cliffside, a look of bliss washed over the war god’s face. An explosion of urine shot from the head of his penis. Mars whistled out a satisfied breath. Clear liquid shimmered in the early evening sun. The piss exited Mars’ body in a pleasant rush. Mars had never felt so much peace as he did then. Mars just stood there, holding his toga up with both hands, as his body willingly caved into the vast amount of pressure. Mars didn’t even hold his junk. He just allowed his penis to point downwards and spray the valley below. Mars’ bladder drained in a single stream. It ran through his shaft and out of the urethral opening, covering the landscape in godly water. Mars closed his eyes and smiled. He just stood there and allowed his thoughts to go wherever they liked. The pressure dropped and his penis peed. Between the victory of battle and this tremendous urination, Mars certainly was feeling horny. He would give it to Venus good tonight! Mars just stood at the cliff’s edge. While his penis hung low and fired strong in a state of barefaced ecstasy, Mars thought of all the wonderful things in his immortal life. The glory he brought to Rome. The Romans viewed him as a glorious god (much different from how they viewed his Greek counterpart, Ares, who was a coward and a hotheaded wimp). There was of course the birth of Mars’ twin sons, Romulus and Remus, the founders of Rome who were raised by wolves. There was his wonderful love life with Venus and all the times he and Bellona squared off in fake fights. (To which they were perfectly tied with who won). Mars had too many good things in his life to count. That - as well as his wonderful beard - makes him as far apart as his Greek counterpart, Ares, as day is different from night. Mars stood on the cliff and peed and peed and peed and peed some more. His manly god’s bladder would take a very long time to run dry. Mars pulled off his toga so he was utterly naked. His eight-pack was exposed to the land as well as his majestic urinating cock. Now nude, Mars passed the time by cleaning the blood from his sword with a cloth. Mars assumed this would take a while since there was a lot of blood on his blade. And while, yes, cleaning such a sword took a long while, Mars’ bladder jet was still as strong as ever. Mars clapped his hips in a state of boredom. He conjured up a brush and began to style his beard just the way Venus liked. Knowing Venus, she was already prepared to make love tonight - especially after hearing of the successful battle - but an extra layer of sexiness never hurt. Even long after his beard was properly styled (a process that took longer than the founding of Rome), Mars’ penis was still squirting its essence down the gorge. Mars continued to wait. In a last-ditch effort to make the time go by faster, Mars had a mental argument with his rival, Minerva (goddess of wisdom). The two gods fought in Mars’ brain, having a heated discussion over whose tactics were better. Mars won the imaginary debate, naturally. Mars let out a long-winded sigh. This glorious piss had once been phenomenal. But at this point, it was just annoying. Mars’ penis continued to fire, with no end in sight. Mars attempted to bare down, making his member spray a stream thrice its current power. But after several minutes of relentless shoving, Mars quickly realized he was hardly making a dent in his bladder’s load. The war god promised himself then and there that he would never hold off pissing again. The longer the gods and goddesses held, the longer their eventual urinations. Mars continued to stand there until the sun touched the horizon. Mars’ stream dribbled to a stop. Excitement rattled the god of war’s mind. But his stream just restarted and Mars huffed out his frustration. Nearing two hours of an endless stream and he still wasn’t done! Mars knew he had a bladder like a steel trap, but this was too much! How was it physically possible - even for a god - to hold this much without exploding? After seeing all he had contained, Mars felt less disgraceful about those earlier leaks. The sun was just visible by the time Mars’ stream stopped fully. In the dark, Mars took his penis in his hand. (He had been peeing without any hands at this point). Mars gave his fellow a good shake, watching the final few drops of nectar fly off his strong and hefty manhood and tumble down into the valley below. Placing his toga back on and gathering his discarded armor, Mars noticed something. Peering over the edge of his cliff, Mars realized, his urine stream was sweeping over the floor of the valley and running straight into the Roman settlement. It was an entire landslide of golden liquid flowing into the Roman town. Mars turned as red as the planet named in his honor. But the relief felt too good to care. Mars just whistled casually and walked away from the scene of the crime, leaving the Romans to figure out why yellow water, the scent of wine, was pouring into their streets.
This next story is about Psyche the Greek goddess of the human soul. Let the record state that - unlike in my story - in actual Greek tradition, Hades never assigned Psyche to give tours of the Underworld, that is just a job I envision her having. As the goddess of the human soul, I could see Psyche greeting new arrivals to the Underworld. Psyche’s legs remained as close together as the coffins of two lovers. Her knees twitched and her arms rested across her chest. Psyche attempted to remain still, but was finding it increasingly difficult as her bladder swelled to maximum captivity. The goddess of the soul knocked her knees together and swayed on her bare feet. If only she had thought to pee yesterday. That’s when her urge started getting bad. Psyche should have known something was wrong when she found that her bladder was so uncomfortable, she couldn’t sleep. But she didn’t feel like getting out of bed. Now she was tired and aching full. She also hadn't had anything to drink all day because of her urge. Psyche was still learning how to be a goddess. It wasn’t easy being born mortal and becoming an all-powerful immortal later in life. It was worth it of course. But these things took some time to get used to. Psyche spotted a dark boat rowing up to the shore of the River Styx. Charon the ferryman paddled across the dark waters with a single oar. Standing and sitting all around the ferryman were a dozen or so souls venturing to the underworld. Watching the oily waters churn and shift around the oar and the boat made Psyche feel as if someone was taking a boat ride across her bladder’s surface. Once Charon came to a stop, the souls piled off of the boat. “Thank you, Charon,” Psyche said. The ferryman just nodded under his dark hood and began paddling back towards the opposite bank of the Styx. “Hello, everyone,” Psyche said. The souls were busy chattering amongst themselves. Their voices sounded like wind chimes getting crushed with rocks. “My name is Psyche and I am the goddess of the soul.” The chatter slowly came to an end and Psyche just continued speaking. “I am excited to show you all around your new home of the underworld! I have not been here long, so forgive me if I am a little bit shaky at this…” As she said the word, ‘shaky’, the goddess could feel her bladder buzz against her pelvis floor. “C… Come with me…” Psyche’s voice trembled. Psyche had to walk carefully, keeping her legs together. The goddess of the soul was truly amazed at her new godly form. She has been a goddess for a few months now and her new godly body never ceased to amaze her. Psyche has not peed in nearly a week. If any mortal tried that, they would have literally blown to pieces and died. Yet, here Psyche was. Holding her pee for almost eight days now. One day, Psyche wanted to test herself and see how long she could really hold for curiosity's sake. Of course, it made Psyche’s new job more difficult to give tours with a full bladder. But Hades gave her weekends off. Maybe if Psyche carefully planned it, she could hold her piss during the week and blow up during the weekend. It was Friday and a long weekend was coming up. If Psyche could just hold the rest of today, maybe she could learn more about her godly body over the long weekend. Psyche showed the group the Judgment Pavillion where souls of the dead were judged on how they lived their lives. There was Cerberus the three-headed hound that guarded the gates to the underworld. Psyche explained how the underworld was divided into three main sections. The Fields of Elysium for the ones pure of heart who would be rewarded in the afterlife. The Fields of Asphodel were for those who lived a mediocre existence and would be forced to stand around doing nothing for the rest of eternity. And the Fields of Punishment where those who lived a rotten life were punished for their sins. Psyche mentioned some of the noteworthy villains to wander down here. There was Sisyphus who cheated death twice. So he was forced to push a boulder up a hill for the rest of the time. There was Tantalus who fed his own son to the gods and as punishment was never allowed food or drink again. Psyche warned the group to stay away from the cave entrance leading down to Tartarus. Tartarus is so dangerous, that the gods didn’t even allow the worst mortals to go down there. They couldn’t handle it. Tartarus was reserved solely for the Titans, monsters, giants, or any of the gods’ most powerful enemies. Psyche also said that if the souls needed anything, they could visit Hades’ palace. Psyche also told the mortals where to find her cave. The souls thanked her and began to form a lion at the Judgment Pavilion so they could learn where they belonged in the land of the deceased. The first tour of the day was done! Now only… Several more… Psyche knew she was immortal now… But her bladder seriously felt like it was going to burst before the day was out. Psyche gave tour after tour. Countless undead faces passed by the Judgment Pavilion. Over the past few months, Psyche noticed a pattern. Some souls left the Judgment Pavilion dancing and cheering. Some had to be dragged against their will by guards all while kicking and screaming of how they were cheated. And others left the Judgment Table looking rather skeptical, but also relieved at the same time. It was quite easy to tell who was assigned where. Psyche managed to forget about her bladder for some time. Every now and then she would get an incredible urge and she would be forced to stick a hand up her toga and squeeze herself at the surge of her urgency… Her vulva. But for the most part, the goddess of the soul was able to carry on her day. The day finally ended with the final tour and Charon shut down his boat rides until tomorrow, leaving lots of disappointed souls on the other side of the Styx. Psyche felt sorry for them, but just like her bladder, Charon’s boat was only so big. After the rest of the souls went on their way to the Judgment Pavilion, Psyche took this as her opportunity to return to her cave. Psyche lived on the far end of the underworld. She could just teleport and arrive there in a finger snap. But she enjoyed walking through the underworld. She had to pass through the Fields of Asphodel and she knew the poor souls there appreciated her company. It was the only company they had, really. Besides each other that is. Plus, based on what Psyche has heard from her fellow gods - she loved calling them that now - teleporting with a full bladder added tons of extra pressure to it making the already feeling of discomfort skyrocketed. Psyche wandered down the plains of Asphodel, waving to the bored souls she passed by. Psyche had to stop several times to grab herself. Many souls asked her if she was okay. The goddess of souls fibbed that she was and went on her way. At long last, Psyche approached her cave. She ventured inside and found her small cave which contained her bed and chests. In the back of her cave, there was a giant graveyard that represented each and every soul in the land of the dead. Psyche plopped on her bed and began to debate what to do next. She wanted to pee. How she wanted to pee! But Psyche was still (no pun intended) dying to know how much her newly acquired goddess bladder could hold. Psyche had always been a curious girl. Not as curious as Pandora… But curious nonetheless. It was that curiosity that killed Psyche in the first place! She recalled the day Aphrodite forced Psyche to prove her love for Aphrodite’s son, Eros, and do many challenges. Gather grain seeds, get water from on top of a waterfall… But the hardest task of them all had been to bring Persephone a box of make-up. Psyche looked inside and bam! The godly makeup killed her. Fortunately, though, Eros asked Hades to revive his love, and Hades - a sucker for a love story - agreed. That is why Psyche joined Hades in the first place. To thank him for bringing her back to life so Eros could turn her into his immortal bride. But back to her bladder, Psyche could feel immense pressure inside her pelvis and it only continued to increase. Psyche’s whole lower body was cramping up from the effort to contain her waters. Psyche reached into a chest and produced a fresh bottle of nectar. Psyche had only started drinking nectar after she became a goddess - if mortals drink this stuff, it will kill them - and Psyche loved it! Nectar was without a doubt her new favorite drink and ambrosia her new favorite food. Psyche held the cool bottle of yellow liquid in her palms. She did find it awfully strange that nectar looked so much like urine. Psyche wondered why someone would invent nectar to look this way. Psyche held her head back and began gulping down the yellow drink. On the third or fourth swallow, Psyche could feel the pressure rise even higher. It got so bad, that one of Psyche’s hands abandoned the drink and held her privates instead. Soon the bottle was gone and Psyche could feel her urge at an all-time high. Psyche also noticed her bladder had grown so far out, it was pulling her toga outwards. Psyche’s bladder felt rock hard. It was kind of satisfying to watch it grow and expand. This whole situation was satisfying. Psyche had never felt this way before. It was just some week-old urine. She should empty it. But Psyche found that she wanted to let her piss sit there. At least for now. She also found that her motivation for this decision was no longer simply ‘see how much I can hold’. Psyche kind of enjoyed this full feeling. Her insides were so toasty like cuddling under a blanket on a cold winter night with your romantic partner. Psyche had never felt like this before. In all of her years as a human, she had never enjoyed holding her pee like this. Was being a goddess that much different? Before Psyche could come to terms with her thoughts, there was a knock on the cave wall. “May I enter?” Hades called, standing in the cave entrance. Hades’ voice was slow and gloomy like he had lived his entire life without happiness. “Yes, my lord,” Psyche quickly jumped from her seating position to greet her new boss. As soon as she stood, however, as quick as a blink, Psyche could feel the pressure migrate from her abdomen all the way down to her vulva. She felt as if a discus was pressing down on her lady parts. The sensation made her droll. “I just wanted to thank you for all your hard work,” Hades leaned against the wall. “You have adjusted quite nicely. Even Charon says you are handling your new position well.” “Charon? I didn’t know that guy talked,” Psyche joked. “Yes, well, at any rate, thank you,” Hades said. “I thank you for taking a chance on me and bringing me back to life,” Psyche said. “If it wasn’t for you my lord, Eros and I never would have married and his mom probably would never have accepted me.” “Yes, well, I believe Pan the lord of the wild played a role in convincing your mother-in-law of your fine characteristics,” Hades pointed out. Psyche remained how the satyr god had comforted her when she was sad about her and Eros’ breakup. He even went out of his way to convince Demeter and Zeus to help Psyche in Aphrodite’s challenges. “I owe a lot to you and lord Pan,” Psyche smiled warmly. Hades was silent. But Psyche could tell he was fond of her statement. His eyes landed on Psyche’s bulge. Psyche could see the lord of the dead’s mind move from thought to thought. “Are you are Eros expecting already?” Hades asked in shock. Hades’ shock was justified given that Psyche and Eros had been married for three months at this point. And when you are an immortal god, there is no rush to start a family. Psyche realized far too late that as she talked with Hades, she was rubbing her hand over her bladder the exact same way a mother would do to an unborn child. “Of sorts,” Psyche replied with a grin. “But it’s not his. Actually, it is just mine.” Hades was taken aback by this comment. Psyche smiled. Hades blinked like he misheard. “But when Eros and I do have kids, I like the name Hedone. I think it would make a rather nice girl name,” Psyche stated. “My lord, I was wondering… Do you get to choose what your child becomes the god of? Like, did you choose for your kids?” “No, but you can guide them down a certain path. In the end, it is their decision,” Hades explained. Psyche replied to this, “I would like my child to be the god or goddess of physical joy. I think that’s appropriate.” Psyche addressed the final comment down at her bladder. “Well, I just wanted to thank you for all of your hard work again,” Hades said. “See you on Tuesday.” Hades gave one last look at Psyche’s giant bulge. The poor god was probably concerned about why Psyche chose to have a child all alone when she had a husband who she was in a good relationship with. Hera had Hephestus all by herself. But Hera and Zeus’ relationship was the definition of toxic. Once Hades was gone, Psyche sat back down on her bed and cracked open another nectar. Eros had sent Hermes to the underworld to inform Psyche he was working late tonight but he would meet her in the underworld in the morning. Psyche hated when Eros worked late, but she knew the god of love was busy. Besides, that would give Psyche some extra time to play. Psyche briefly debated masturbating but eventually decided against it. For she knew if she laid a single finger on any part of her vulva, she would burst in seconds. And she wanted to hold in her flood for as long as physically possible. Psyche still refused to empty. She lay down in bed. Her hands stayed firm against her panging pee hole. Her sore bladder brushed up against the bed and added pascals of pressure. Try as she might, Psyche could not sleep like this. Her bladder was way too full. The goddess of souls could barely turn over without rupturing. Psyche still wanted to see how long she could hold at her max, sure. But she also loved this feeling. Psyche wished she could keep it in forever. Oh, why did she have to empty it at all? She was a flipping goddess now! She should be able to hold for as long and as much as she liked. Why did gods have limits anyway? Doesn't that define the purpose of being immortal? It wasn't fair! After hours of lying awake with her legs shaking, Psyche’s tired mind finally settled on a sad truth. She had to pee. Psyche would never be able to get to sleep if her bladder stayed this full. But still, the goddess of souls refused to empty it all! If only there was some way to measure so she wouldn’t let out too much… Looking at the dark ground, Psyche found her answer… Psyche reached down and pulled one of her empty nectar bottles up onto the bed. The opening was a little smaller than a drachma. If Psyche angled carefully, she might be able to make it. In a fit of horniness, the goddess of the soul quickly tore her toga to the side and placed the bottle as far against her pee hole as it would go. As soon as the empty bottle was in place, Psyche let loose. She allowed her tired muscles to calm down and contract. And as soon as they did, a fountain of hot piss blasted from Psyche’s cooch and quickly sped to the top of the bottle. Psyche moaned, quickly stopping her stream. She admired her handwork. She managed to fill this single bottle in less than five seconds. Psyche could feel herself orgasm, her whole body trembling with erotic feelings as she drained the pent-up piss from her pressurized pee pouch! Psyche carefully set the almost overflowing bottle of piss back to her cave floor. That helped a bit, but Psyche feared she still wouldn’t be able to sleep. So, she grabbed a second bottle and spent the next ten seconds filling this one. Bottle after bottle Psyche refilled them with golden nectar. Just a different kind of nectar this time! Kidney nectar to be precise! Psyche had to urinate so badly, she managed to fill these relatively large bottles in a matter of seconds. After filling half a dozen bottles, Psyche stood and carefully rearranged these six large bottles of urine on her trunk. Psyche admired the bubbly golden water. She couldn’t believe all of this came out of her! It was just one urination and she still had loads more in the tank! Psyche just felt so naughty and rambunctious. She was a grown woman pissing into bottles and leaving them all around. Just holding her pee felt so wrong. Her whole life her parents told her to go when she had to go. But now… What would her parents say about this? What would her sisters say about this? What would Eros say about this? Psyche wished Eros would flap his wings in here and give her a nice, hard spanking. She deserved it for being so naughty! Should Psyche tell Eros about this? No. He wouldn’t understand. As the goddess of the human soul, Psyche vowed to take this to her grave. Psyche picked up one of the bottles and carefully, without spilling, ran the warm bottle over her face. It was so warm, it was like sitting around a campfire. Psyche’s pee even smelled good! Psyche’s entire body trembled with excitement and indecency. The goddess of the soul couldn’t wait for her big release! Having happily drained one-tenth of her bladder’s pressure, Psyche set down the bottle, eagerly leaped into bed, and prayed to Hypnos for a good night's sleep. But with all of her excitement - for the first time since their marriage - Psyche completely forgot about Eros. Psyche awoke with aches and pains covering her body. Her sleep was pretty okay, but her bladder was screaming for release. That pressure Psyche had taken off of her bladder last night paled in comparison to how much she still held back. If anything, it appeared like her bladder had grown since last night! As Psyche prepared to turn over in bed, she saw a black shadow that made her spring up as if someone had replaced her mattress with nails. Standing off to the side, hunched over, observing Psyche’s now freezing cold pee bottles… Was Eros his black shadowy wings flapping lightly, feathers molting off, his eyes affixed upon Psyche’s bottle tinkle. Hearing a soft noise, Eros turned. Eros and Psyche’s eyes met. Psyche felt herself go beat red. Eros looked down at Psyche’s tummy. That only made the soul goddess go even more red. Psyche was instantly awake. Her heart pounded, her bladder throbbed, and her head spun with fear, all as she awaited her husband’s reaction. “What’s this?” Eros asked. Before she even had time to think over her answer, Psyche spit out, “What’s what?” “This?” Eros pointed to the bottles. “They don't smell too good. Is that pee?” Psyche sweat. “And why is your stomach so bloated?” Eros added. Psyche wished she could just have a heart attack. Can gods even get heart attacks? Psyche wished she had never come back to life. This was the most humiliated she has ever been! “Psyche?” Eros stepped forward and placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “You can talk to me,” he said calmly. “No more secrets, remember?” Psyche knew he was referring to when they first met. Eros had been sent by his mother to make Psyche fall in love with a monster. Psyche was even more beautiful than Aphrodite. Naturally, Aphrodite wanted Psyche and her social life destroyed. Instead, Eros fell in love with Psyche. But thanks to his mother, he couldn’t tell Psyche who he was. So, Eros asked his servant, Zephyrus, the west wind god to bring Psyche to him. Eros and Psyche lived together for several weeks, but Eros forbade Psyche from looking him in the face. Fortunately, this was rather easy as Eros had the ability to turn invisible. Except for when he was asleep that is. But after being convinced by her sisters, one night Psyche looked upon Eros as he slept. Long story short, Eros flew away heartbroken, Pan comforted Psyche, and Psyche had to do three challenges for Aphrodite to prove herself, it was a whole mess. “I promised to no longer keep secrets from you,” Eros sat beside his wife, holding his arm around her. “Please don’t keep secrets from me.” Psyche didn’t know if it was just his words or the way he said it, but she told him everything. At first, she was just impressed with the captivity of her godly bladder and wished to test it out. But then, Psyche began to enjoy the arousing feeling of a heavy bladder. Unable to sleep with so much inside, she peed into half a dozen bladders but that barely took down the pressure. Only enough to sleep for the night. “You must think I’m sick,” Psyche held her head. As she talked, she continued to run her hand over her bladder. It felt too good to stop. “But pee is just so warm and comforting,” Psyche protested. “And I am so impressed with myself, babe! Even as a mortal, my bladder was pretty big. I had relatively good holding power even back then. But now… I haven’t pissed fully in a week and I peed six whole bottles without breaking a sweat!” “Godly bladders are pretty cool, huh?” Eros smiled. “They are!” Psyche wailed. Psyche smiled down at her bladder bump, continuing to lightly massage it. “This is my favorite part of being a goddess!” Psyche quickly caught herself. “Besides being married to you of course.” The god of love chucked. “And no,” he said. “I don’t think you are sick. Babe, as the god of love, I know all about fetishes! We are all into something and yours is fairly normal.” Psyche hesitated. “It is?” Eros shrugged. “Compared to most sexual things… Yeah.” Eros ran a hand over Psyche’s back. “Don’t feel bad, babe. I think it is kind of hot you’re into something so… Bizarre!” Psyche knew she should tell her husband. Eros was so understanding and empathetic! “Hey…” Psyche stopped herself. “What?” Eros prompted. Psyche used her finger to trace circles around her bulge. “It’s nothing.” “No, tell me.” “Nothing…” “Psyche…” “Okay, okay… I was just wondering…” Psyche slowly looked up. “Would you… Yeh know… Be down to… Play… With me?” “You mean the urine thing?” Psyche turned pale. “Yeah…” Eros’ wings fluttered softly behind him. “I would be honored.” Psyche resumed her lying down position. Eros knelt on the bed over his wife and rested his fingertips on her bladder. Eros gently pushed his fingers farther into the rock-like texture of his wife’s urinary bladder. Eros then raised his fingers to the sky and pressed his wrists into her tender skin. Psyche felt countless twinges in her bladder following the added pressure of her husband’s hands. “My bladder feels like an ocean,” Psyche moaned. “Mumph.” “Like my bladder is a slave to the rest of my body,” Psyche rolled her head back and forth. “The caged-up urine hurrrrrts…” Psyche extended the word via a moan. “I know, baby,” Eros replied gently. “Do you wish me to stop?” “Gods no,” Psyche gasped. “It feels too damn good…” Psyche could feel her clit as hard as her bladder. The bladder pain was accompanied by a twitching pee hole. Psyche knew she would be unable to bare the pressure much longer. But she wanted this moment to last for all of eternity. Eros was in on her secret and he was playing with her and her bulge. What more could a goddess ask for? Eros pressed his entire elbow down into Psyche’s bladder. The pressure made her salivate. Psyche begged her sphincter to stay closed. Not because she was afraid of wetting. But because she didn’t want this moment to end. This whole situation seemed so improper and wicked. And those very thoughts only made the stiffness of Psyche’s clitoris increase. Eros was quiet the entire time. Psyche felt as if he was mesmerized by her bladder as much as she was. Her theory was further backed up by the fact that Eros’ pupils never once diverged from the massive bump that was Psyche’s inflated piss bag. After another hour of Eros’ poking and prodding, the love god being silent the whole time, he finally asked, “Have you always been into this stuff?” “No,” Psyche bit down hard on her lip on a particularly sharp push from Eros. “as a mortal, I never held my pee. My parents told me it was wrong and I suppose as a mortal it is kind of unhealthy. Even as a goddess, I never went crazy withholding. Until now that is. And I love it!” Psyche’s legs were crossed as tight as bandits hold onto a treasure. “I hate to say it, babe, but I gotta piss soon…” “Just let me know when you’re at your limit,” Eros replied. As Eros continued to press down on the soul goddess’ bulge, Psyche’s mind began racing and she thought of where she would empty. She didn’t want to use her chamber pot. One, her volume of piss proudly wouldn’t fit inside it and two, Psyche wanted to do it somewhere naughtier! And she knew just the place. But how would Eros react? “Babe,” Psyche said a moment later, reaching her hand over her mountain of a bladder to grasp her furry vulva. “It’s time.” Eros’ expression went in stages upon hearing his wife’s request. First, it was surprising then disgusted then worry then deep in thought, and finally, he settled on mischievous. Psyche first got completely naked, allowing her perky breasts to bounce around. Having accidentally seen her mother-in-law naked once, Psyche knew that Aphrodite was right… Psyche was hotter than her! While Psyche’s boobs weren’t nearly as big as the goddess of love’s, they were a lot fuller and perfectly symmetrical. Psyche kind of felt like she had three breasts given how massive her bladder had gotten. But even then, her bladder completely overshadowed her boobs! Psyche and Eros ventured to the end of the cave. And there, they came face to face with the infinite number of gravestones. “You sure about this?” Eros asked nervously. “These gravestones are here pretty much just to keep track of all the souls in the underworld,” Psyche explained. “I thought that was your job as the goddess of souls,” Eros pointed out. Ignoring this comment, Psyche said, “It is not like real people are buried here. They are all buried below the surface of the earth.” “Okay, if you insist,” Eros said. Judging by the crotch area of Eros’ toga, Psyche could tell he was aroused. That was good enough for her. Standing up, Psyche moderately moved her pussy lips higher up than they were supposed to be. Then… She gave in to the pressure and allowed her bladder to drain. Relief washed over the goddess of the soul’s face. Psyche happily wagged her labia around, showering an entire row of tombstones in golden nectar twice. Psyche went around the graveyard, pissing on each and every stone she could. “Some for you. And some for you. And a little for you. Don’t worry, you’ll all get my lovely hot hiss,” Psyche giggled to the headstones. Eros just watched. His penis grew sturdier and sturdier with each passing second. It got to the point that a pitched tent was clearly visible, making Eros’ lower toga stick out. Psyche laughed like crazy as she drained her exploding bladder all over the tombstones, showering each and everyone in her blessed yellow water. Psyche’s bladder pressure slowly decreased as the goddess of the soul emptied it all over the graveyard. Psyche knew that she and Eros would have to do stuff like this more often. For now, each of them was flaring with sexual excitement.
This next story is another male omo story. It centers around the hero of Hawaiian mythology. The one, the only, Maui! Maui used his powerful fish hook to slice through the reeds, finding himself on the white beach. His bare toes sank down into the sandy earth. The sand felt as warm as the inside of his bladder walls. Maui was unconsciously sliding each leg in turn up the opposite leg. Maui allowed each leg to climb the other, brushing against his very full penis. The trickster shoved his hand down his loincloth and gave himself a strong grab of his junk to help him control the urge better. “Hey, lazy daisy!” called Maui’s brother, Maui-roto. “You coming or what?” Maui’s mouth hung half open. “Yeah,” the hero muttered. The cawing of sea birds hung above him. The lapping of the ocean waves against the shore sent daggers into Maui’s already overflowing urinary bladder. The white sea foam sloshing across the surf reminded Maui of his growing need. Maui would normally announce right then and there that he was going for a piss. But it was hard enough to convince his brothers to allow him to go fishing with them. Maui didn’t want to blow his chances now that he was so very close. His brothers already found him to be nothing more than a lazy, arrogant and reckless person. The last thing Maui needed was to reveal what he had brewing in his pelvis. Maui sucked in his breath, wrestled with his shaking member one final time, and charged down the beach. His brothers were waiting by a long canoe, each one holding a fish hook in hand. “Hey, all set to go,” Maui said, forcing himself to stand as straight as a full-bladdered trickster could. The brothers’ conversion halted as they looked upon their least favorite of brothers. Maui feared his brothers were suddenly having second thoughts about allowing Maui to come along. After months of relentless begging did they finally say yes, if nothing more than to shut him up? Now, did they freit taking him once more. Maui knew he would once again have to rely on his cunning to reassure his brothers into taking him along for the ride. Before he could, however, Brother Maui-taha said something unexpected. “Wow, Maui, are you okay? Your stomach looks all… Puffy.” Maui didn’t understand at first. But upon looking down at his belly, Maui did realize that bloated wasn’t even beginning to describe the bulge that stood from his abdomen. It looked like Maui was pregnant with a calabash. His stomach was just as big, round, and hairless as the fruit. Maui felt his face fill with burning sand of embarrassment. “I’m fine,” he lied. “Just have to take a leak.” As badly as Maui dreaded informing his brothers of this, he knew there was no way he could escape the truth right now. Unless his brothers were stupid enough to believe him to be pregnant - and they were some of the smartest men on the island of Maui - Maui doubted he could fool them with anything but honesty. “Do you want to go?” Maui-pae said a little too quickly. Maui knit his eyes at his older brother. Oh, sure, have the guy go pee and then sail off while he was gone. Maui invented that old trick! Maui was not leaving this spot unless he was on a canoe and that was final! “I’m fine,” Maui’s voice came out extra shrill. “I’m the son of the moon goddess, Hina. I can hold it.” “We’re all children of Hina,” Maui-waho pointed out. “And none of you were born with any godly abilities,” Maui said, harsher than he intended. But it was also true, out of Hina and the mortal Akalana's six children, Maui was the only one with divine powers - powers he inherited from his mother. “Trust me, I can hold my piss. I’m covered in muscles for Kāne’s,” (the chief Hawaiian god). “Sake. Naturally, my bladder is extra strong as well.” The four other brothers had looks that ranged from disappointment to concert to just plain old irritation at Maui’s existence. Maui didn’t know what he ever did to them! Sure, he had a tendency to be lazy from time to time, but he also did a lot of good for humanity. How could his brothers deny that? Finally settling for Maui’s promises of abate, the brothers returned to the raft. As the four brothers pushed the canoe down the sandy slope, Maui-waho said, “I hope Ku will provide us with fresh fish today.” The god of war guided the migrations of fish and aided sailors in their fishing game. If Ku was in a good mood, he may allow the brothers to catch some fish. “He better,” Maui-pae said, swinging his legs in the boat. “If not, mother and sister will go hungry.” “Come on, Maui, move it!” Maui-roto exclaimed, splashing through the water up onto the canoe. Maui stood on the shore, watching as his brothers navigated the boat out to sea. Maui’s eyes reflected splashes of water. Maui’s bladder tensed upon watching water hiss and splash all around the canoe. Maui’s gaze remained fixed on the vast open sea. The ocean was so ginormous, just the thought of all that H2O made Maui’s intestines become bogged down with damp watery frustration. Maui shuffled both hands down his loincloth. His penis thrashed around like an angry snake. The trickster still refused to give into his bodily needs. He was ashamed of himself for acting so weak. And in front of his brothers, no less. Maui was in fact a demigod. And unlike his siblings, mother Hina gave him a vast amount of abilities and powers. Like shapeshifting for one. Maui was a whiz at playing hide-and-seek with his brothers due to his ability to transform into insects. Maui wished he could turn into some animal with a larger bladder captivity. Maybe then he would have a better chance of holding. But he didn’t want to capsize the boat… Or let his brothers know how bad his need was. Still, Maui was certain the minute he stepped a toenail into the cool Hawaiian waves, he would burst like an old papaya falling from the top of the tree. The canoe was beginning to sail away, and Maui was running out of time to get on board. “I told you guys,” Maui-roto snarled. “Maui is as lazy as ever. He would do anything to get out of doing work.” Maui’s eyes switched from water to flames. Anger at such a comment filled Maui’s chest. At that moment, the hero’s bladder bulge was forgotten. All Maui knew was the need to prove his brothers wrong was far superior to the needs of his bladder. Maui raced down the sands, flying over the waves in large sprints, and Maui jumped into the air, smashing his weight down into the canoe. The canoe rattled and rocked side to side like an untrained hula dancer. Towering waves shot up on all perimeters of the boat. Maui was large to begin with, but that added bladder strength made jumping into the canoe as dangerous as swallowing a fire rock before cliff diving into a volcano. “Maui, take it easy,” Maui-taha’s voice was broken apart by his body’s constant shaking. The other brothers managed to hold tight to the railings as the shaking slowly came to a stop and the waves fell back into the sea. “This isn’t a game, Maui,” Maui-roto snapped. “What are you trying to do, get up swallowed by the surf?” “Watch it, Maui, okay,” Maui-pae warned. “Be careful from now on unless you want the fish to be scared away,” “Okay, okay, sorry,” Maui grunted, growing exhausted from his brother’s constant nagging. “Let’s just sail out to sea. And sail far away from land too.” “Why?” demanded Maui-taha. “Just do it,” snapped Maui. Maui had a little secret up his sleeve that he didn’t want to share with his siblings. Not yet, he would wait until they were in the optimal location. And that location was still a long distance away. “Trust me,” Maui assured them. “I know the perfect fishing spot.” “How can you possibly know a good fishing spot?” Maui-waho wondered. “You’ve never even been fishing before? You usually sleep until noon and we are long gone by then.” Maui gritted his teeth. Maui told himself that the next brother that commented on his laziness would get a nice, wet golden shower. Taking a seat on the canoe with crossed legs, Maui replied, “I’ve heard things. Just trust me, you guys.” They didn’t. Against the brother’s better judgment, they agreed to Maui’s proposal and allowed Maui to direct them to this ‘perfect fishing spot.’ The bad news was that it was far away. While the brothers didn’t mind rowing to such a specific location, Maui’s bladder was feeling heavier each minute they remained at sea. Maui imagined the entire Pacific Ocean sloshing between his bladder walls, being held back by his sphincter. Maui came closer and closer to forming a ditch of gold liquid right here in the canoe. He imagined his penis spraying all over the wooden boat, drenching his brothers and all their equipment. Maui knew his brothers would kill him. How he desired to take a leak over the edge of the boat, but they would probably kill him for that too. If nothing else, they would be disguised and chastise him about scaring the fish away. As the boat sailed on and the waves continued to splash, Maui’s mind was stuck on his relentless need to drain the fishpond inside his body. Furthermore, Maui was struggling even more to keep still and disguise his need. He tried placing his fish hook between his legs and rocking around on it, but since he had a penis, that did little to help ease the discomfort. Maui racked his brain of ways to distract himself, but seeing as he was at sea, that was even more difficult. When a particularly nasty wave of urinary urgency rocked Maui’s weakening sphincter, Maui had no choice but to openly snap at his member. Giving a tight squeeze to his shaft, Maui massaged his poor trembling demigodhood. This was ridiculous! Maui was a demigod of the moon! He should be able to control the flood. But Maui was finding that to be more and more difficult as time wore on and the brothers grew more distant from the land and by extension, more distance from a chamber pot. Maui’s brothers spotted him holding himself. Maui-taha was the first to notice, followed by Maui-roto who eagerly tapped Maui-waho to get his attention and show off their younger brother’s bladder torment. Maui-pae soon saw and all the brothers eyed Maui with amusement. “You okay, Maui?” asked Maui-taha - the only brother who looked the tiniest bit concerned. “Yeah… Fine… Why…” Maui’s teeth remained wedged together while his hands fought against his junk. “What are you doing, bro?” Maui-waho’s voice teased. Panicked, Maui said the first thing that came to mind. “Masturbating.” The brothers laughed. “Masturbating?” Maui-pae asked. “Seriously?” “Yeah,” Maui said, growing more confident. “That’s how hard core I am! I’m playing with myself and I don’t give two alea bird droppings who sees!” Even as he said this, Maui’s desperate mind forced him to rise from his seat and fall back down repetitively. “Why are you moving so much then?” Maui-waho challenged. “Hey, I don’t make fun of the way you masturbate,” Maui pointed out. “Let me do my thing please, thank you…” Maui moved his hand in a motion akin to masturbation. In reality, however, he was squeezing his aching penile parts with all the remaining energy he had. “Maui, you sure this doesn't make you uncomfortable?” Maui-roto splashed his oar up and down in the waves, forcing waves the size of ant hills to be removed from the sea for a split second, long enough to torture Maui, before splashing back down. Maui wanted to rip off his eyes and ears so he wouldn’t have to see nor hear such a terrible sight/noise. The water show caused the trickster to roll his butt around on his seat, trying - and failing to get comfortable. The pressure Maui felt inside was like an internal switch that forced him to move. Maui was unable to sit still, if he did, he would pee, as simple as that. “Look at this massive salty ocean. So much wet, wonderful, water,” Maui-pae added on. “Just think of what it would be like to be a squid or a whale. Able to sink below the waves, constantly living in a vast open watery sea, able to piss whenever they like. Just imagine the yellow clouds that come from urinating underwater.” “Don’t I love to splash and flop around the sea,” Maui-waho continued. “I just love to do cannonballs into the sea. I especially love cliff diving off the edge of a waterfall. Falling parallel to the age-old running water of the falls, having the water displaced as you hit the sea, it is truly the best feeling ever.” “That’s enough, guys,” said Maui-taha, the oldest and thus the most responsible. Maui refused to let his brothers get to him. But all of those descriptions of water… Maui’s thoughts were filled with splashing cannonballs and yellow clouds of pee under the sea and running waterfalls. Maui was unable to get these dreaded images out of his tired mind. The pressure continued to climb and Maui’s bladder was burning hot. Maui was a demigod! He could handle this. But as this torment went on, Maui’s confidence sank to the depths of the sea. His bladder was bubbling and frothing more than the ocean itself. Maui’s penis was brandishing back and forth like a fish on a line. Maui continued to grope his manhood, urging his urine to stay inside just for a little while longer. “Maui, just don’t think of all the fish swimming below the depths,” Maui-roto said quietly with a grin. “I said that’s enough,” Maui-taha snapped, silencing his brothers’ snickering. The raft continued to float farther and farther away from land, nearer to Maui’s selected fishing spot. No one said another word until they arrived. But Maui’s bladder continued to rant and bellow its fury at Maui the entire way. And each time the hero felt salty sea water splash onto his skin, he felt himself nearing his limit. At one point, a splash of cold water hit his distended stomach, which normally may have been refreshing, only aided Maui’s discomfort and made him wince in pain. The cold water sent agony all throughout his lower body and Maui could feel his sphincter wither away like his freshly deceased ancestors. “Okay, this is good,” Maui breathed, relieved that the first stretch of the journey was done. If only Maui was in proper health to fulfill the rest of his plan. “This spot better be good if you made us come out all this way, lazy daisy,” Maui-roto warned, throwing his line into the sea. “Oh, it will be,” Maui squeezed his penis and then tossed his own fish hook below the depths. Maui’s eyes watered as he watched his hook sink with a plunk. Maui’s eyelids slammed closed as the trickster rocked around in pure agony. He had to focus and concentrate on his fishing line. But how could he concentrate on anything other than his ever-expanding bladder walls? Maui wanted to scream to the heavens he found himself in so much unbearable pain. Against all odds, Maui managed to regain control and push his thoughts of urine aside. Maui visualized his fish hook sinking lower and lower into the darkest parts of the sea. The idea of which only added to Maui’s urgency, yet he contented to imagine his hook vanishing into the folds of oceanic darkness. Maui soon felt his hook snag on something solid and the line tugged. This was it, this was Maui’s moment. “Guys, I think I got something!” Maui cried, beginning to reel in his catch. After failing to catch anything in the first round, Maui-pae threw out his line a second time. “Yeah, right,” he scoffed. “No, really,” Maui insisted. As if on cue, Maui’s fishing line dragged down even lower into the tide. Maui kept a firm grip on his pole, all while trying not to lose a grip on his sphincter muscles. “Look!” Maui cried. One by one, the brothers reluctantly turned to the youngest. Just as Maui stated, his fishing line was weighed down heavily with his mighty catch. The entire canoe began to shake on the waves, getting pulled down along with Maui’s hook. “My gods, Maui!” shouted Maui-taha. “What did you catch? A piece of land?” Hiding his smile in his shoulder blade, Maui cried, “Just help me pull!” Maui found himself nearly getting thrown overboard. The splashes of water on his face, the constant movement of his body and the ship, Maui felt each bump, each splash jolted the core of Maui’s bladder which was starting to feel more and more like Nāmaka’s most violent sea storm each passing second. Maui’s brothers all chipped in. Abandoning their own poles, all five brothers held onto Maui’s and they all tugged as a single unit. The fishing line was pulled from the water, but instantly went back under. The ocean began to churn and the sea bubbled. A wave larger than any they had ever seen rose from the ocean floor. The tidal wave grew to the size of a mountain. Maui and his brothers found their canoe trapped on the summit of the massive wave. “I’ll keep pulling! You guys row the boat forward,” Maui ordered. “Oh, and don’t look back! You don’t want to scare the fish.” Maui had the hunch his brothers found that last command to be off-putting. And why wouldn’t they? Telling someone not to look behind them is a rather strange instruction, in retrospect. Given the situation, they were currently in, however, no one had time to argue with such an odd suggestion. The four elder brothers all assumed their roles at the oars. As soon as they released their hold on Maui, the trickster was almost thrown from the raft. Somehow, he managed to bare his footing and remained lodged on the railing of the canoe. All four brothers paddled with all their strength, pulling the canoe forward. Maui remained on the stern where he stood on two legs, placing one foot on the edge of the boat, and constantly yanking his line along with them. Standing up was even worse than sitting for Maui’s bodily needs. Maui found the pressure of his bladder sank down in his abdomen, pressing on his sphincter. The pressure felt as if two squids were tugging Maui’s bladder in two opposite directions. Maui gritted his teeth and tried to ignore it. But with a climbing tidal wave right in front of his eyes, Maui’s refusal to recognize his urgent need was quickly diminished. The sight of such a massive wave deeply damaged Maui’s continence. Maui’s bladder stung with the fury of all the jellyfish in the sea. Curse the Hawaiian’s mostly juice diet! If only Maui had gotten a chance to pee sooner! Sadly, just as his brothers teased him of, he woke up late. Come to think of it, Maui hasn’t pissed in well over a day. He was too busy goofing around yesterday to do so. As the son of a goddess - the only one among his siblings to gain any divine powers - Maui had inhuman levels of control and colossal captivity. Not as much as a god, but similar to one. But after twenty-four hours with no chamber pot and a diet of many different juices, Maui was absolutely bursting open. Maui desired to clutch himself, but he refused to take a single hand off his pole. Rather, Maui held his flood at bay with nothing but his sheer muscles. Maui continued to remind himself that he was in fact a demigod. He was the same demigod who pulled up the sky, lassoed the sun, harnessed the winds, surely he could handle a little bit of urine in his bladder. The entire island of Maui was named after him for the gods’ sake! Still, the feeling of salt water soaked his face, and such a refreshing wet aura forced the demigod’s bladder to twist itself into a tight knot. Maui felt a hot iron inside his pelvis and he was just dying to let it go. The canoe rode on the wave, sailing like a surfboard, gliding on the sea foam. The brothers continued to paddle all while being chased by a tsunami. Maui pressed his legs together, feeling his twitching penis between them. Maui let out a quiet moan as he continued to tug on his pole. “This is ridiculous,” called Maui-roto. “What on earth are we…” Maui-roto turned around and his voice became dead in the water. The rest of the brothers - wondering what rendered their brother speechless - followed in his lead and also looked behind them. The waves finally began to subside and crash back into the still-churning sea. Standing before the brothers, just casually resting in the ocean, was a massive collection of land. It was an entire island! Maui’s hook was still wedged on the coast of the large island. Maui tugged on his pole one final time and the hook shot from the crevice it made in the land and was reeled back in by a victorious Maui. “Is that…” Maui-pae’s voice also died in his throat. “An island?” gasped Maui-taha. “Maui, you…” Maui-taha swallowed. “Fished up an entire island.” “How in the gods’ name is this possible?” Maui-waho rubbed the back of his neck. Maui-roto looked faint. “It’s not just a little island, either… It’s massive! This thing is larger than all of the Hawaiian islands put together!” “I call it… New Zealand!” Maui established the land. “New Zealand? Why?” Maui-waho wondered. “It’s a new land from the sea,” Maui replied. “Zea sounds like sea, new land mass, it’s like a…” “We get the picture,” Maui-pae promised. “This is highly impressive, Maui. I can’t believe…” “Oh, we’re not done yet!” Maui called. The four brother’s faces became a sea of bewilderment. “We’re not?” Maui-taha asked. “Nope, we have one more island to fish up,” Maui replied. The shock Maui’s brothers had instantly made up for all the teasing they gave him all these years. It even made Maui temporarily forget about the big ball of urine begging to spray out. Maui directed his brothers to the second site. “How do you know of these sunken lands, Maui?” Maui-taha asked as the four brothers rowed along. “Let’s just say, I’ve visited our ancestors in the underworld plenty of times, and they tell me little worldly secrets.” Maui admired his fish hook, the same one he collected from his deceased, unpleasant grandmother’s jawbone. As the brothers rowed the canoe around the new landmass, Maui was able to relax for a moment, soaking in the astonishment of his siblings. Maui couldn’t wait for the world to hear about this newly accomplished great deed of his. Maui’s list of great deeds was getting longer and longer, and with it, Maui’s reputation was growing as well. All of that was well worth holding last night’s juice a little while longer. As the canoe sailed on, and the brothers passed a much more open ocean, Maui’s urge quickly escalated again. Maui soon found himself having to squeeze his shaft again. This time, having learned from past mistakes, Maui placed his back on his brothers. He pretended he was only facing such a way so he could scout out the sea, but in actuality, he was holding onto his throbbing cock for dear life, fighting away the urine pressure that was urging him to let go. Maui moaned in silence, rubbing his penis, battling with his own body on the fluid which pressed down harder than ever into his sphincter. Eventually, Maui once again commanded his brothers to stop. He told them to do what they did last time and row the boat while he fished. The brothers obeyed, gripping their oars tightly. Maui again swung his pole and watched as the nearly invisible string was thrown over the side of the sea vessel and disappeared below the crystal blue sea. It wasn’t long until Maui’s hook snagged another piece of land. “Got it,” Maui muttered. The demigod began to tug once again. Just like before, a mountainous wave lifted from the sea. The canoe once again was thrown forward, riding the top of the wave. While the four older brothers rowed, Maui stood at the stern, pulling on his fishing line. Maui found this experience ever more gruesome than the last island he fished. Now, Maui’s bladder was even more swollen than before. The entire thing felt rock hard in his stomach and it hurt so badly, Maui felt ready to collapse in a fit of his own tears. Maui hadn’t been this drained since he lifted the sky on his shoulders. The tidal wave rushed after the canoe and still, Maui yanked on his pole. Maui had already fished up one island, he now had one left to obtain. Maui couldn’t turn back now. Silencing his bladder’s protests was no longer an option, however. Maui’s water-logged pelvis was shouting at him the entire time. Having ocean water constantly chase the bulge only made it that much more angry. The wall of water pursued the boat. The hero and his brothers were lifted above the world on the largest wave ever seen in the Pacific. Maui’s bladder cramped and his knees stuck together. Maui no longer had the strength to place one foot on the end of the boat. While that gave him extra strength to pull up the island, Maui’s bladder would no longer permit him to separate his legs for even a split millisecond. Pressure filled the trickster’s pelvis. He wanted to scream louder than ever. His muscles ached from all the pulling of land and the pushing back of his full bladder. Two intense forces pulled Maui in different directions and it was a pain to fight off both of them. After much more pulling, a second island stood right beside the first one. The waves crashed back down into the sea and the two combined senses of sight and sound made Maui nearly lose control and piss right then and there. The brothers all chanted, lifting from their seats, and clapping Maui on the back. With all four speaking at once, Maui had no clue what any of them were saying. All he knew was many praises and compliments were thrown his way. As much as Maui loved this attention from his - usually cruel - brothers, at the moment, the pressure inside his hero’s body was too great, he could not focus on anything. The force of an overflowing urinary bladder nearly knocked Maui to his knees. He imagined bubbles rising up in his bladder, just as they do in the ocean. His internal yellow sea was frothing with white sea foam. His bladder walls were glowing red with fire, furious at being ignored for so long. Maui felt the pressure rocket down his shaft and settle in the head of his penis. Maui anxiously rubbed the head, trying to silence the urgency of his badly needed urination. The head of Maui’s penis contained so much pressure, the trickster was highly surprised it didn’t just explode off. Maui imagined his entire genitalia swelling with piss pressure, urine flooding the shaft, banging against the orifice of his body, demanding to be drained right away. Bladder rocking with waves of urine, all crashing violently into the bladder walls, Maui briefly debated transforming into a bird and flying back to the island of Maui so he could visit the little trickster’s room. Even though flying back to Maui in bird form would be faster than sailing on a canoe, it would still take a while. And Maui would probably be weighed down by his heavy bladder the entire trip. There was no way he would make it, even in bird form. Maui didn’t have time to waste on such futile courses of action. He would have to settle for something far more embarrassing yet safer and much more pleasing. Maui tugged on his line, tearing his fish hook from the second New Zealand island. Maui angrily slammed his mighty fish hook into the open arms of Maui-waho. Prancing up and down, bending his knees in and out, Maui threw up his loincloth. “I gotta void!” Maui shouted, no longer caring what his brothers thought. The pressure was far too great, and the hero had been suffering for far too long. Maui finally made his brothers proud of him and earned their approval. Now there was only one thing left to do. Screw the chamber pot! Maui had a wide-open urination spot right in front of him and it's name was the ocean! When Maui lifted his malo loincloth, his penis dangled free and exposed, hanging above the sea. Maui’s heavily tattooed skin dripped of both seawater and sweat. Between pulling up land from the sea floor and holding back his bladder, Maui’s body was covered head to toe in perspiration. With a vibrating cock hanging limp above the open ocean, Maui opened his floodgates and allowed the yellow tsunami to begin. There was an instant rush of liquid shooting down the trickster's shaft. Out of said shaft came a monstrous roar of urine which blasted from Maui’s whimpering pee hole and fired down into the sea. Maui’s solid stream of gold rained down into the blue sea. The ocean rippled and the surface was pulled apart. In the epicenter of the sea ripples was a bright yellow stream that touched the water and sent a gurgling noise to the clouds. Maui’s shoulders untensed. The trickster’s sweaty lips uncurled. Maui’s eyes became softer than bananas. Maui hollered his relief to the heavens. Holding his loincloth high, he allowed his penis to do its thing and fill the ocean with his salty juices. Maui’s brothers all stood back, both appalled and impressed Maui had such guts to simply evacuate his bladder into the sea like this. Especially in such close quarters. Maui’s member hissed a violent stream. His urethral opening appeared like a crying insect eyeball. Maui happily drained his monster into the ocean depths. Maui’s body flooded with gratification. Maui suddenly felt a tad bit horny from such a wondrous piss! “Feel better, Maui?” Maui-pae asked with a grin. “You better believe it, boys!” Maui shouted. “I managed to pull two massive islands from the sea and have an orgasmic piss in one day!” “Very nice,” Maui-taha found himself with crossed legs. The violent blast from Maui’s cock reminded the eldest of his own needs. “I could kind of go for a pee myself, actually.” “Now that you mention it,” Maui-roto smirked. “I could micturate,” Maui-pae added. “I want to pee in the sea!” Maui-waho cried. Maui’s four brothers lined the railing, standing alongside the youngest. All brothers lifted their loincloths and unclenched their muscles, allowing their bladders to empty into the urethra tube which sprayed out of the penis. All five going hands-free, the five men peed into the ocean. Five penises sprayed five streams, all of which turned the ocean water a quick shade of green. The ocean filled with urine. Maui wouldn’t have been surprised if his urine alone was enough to turn the sea permanently yellow. Maui has a demigod bladder, after all, his limit is huge! All five men stood back, enjoying the satisfying feeling of urine washing through their shafts and tumbling down into the wide open sea below them. It wasn’t long until Maui-waho’s penis dribbled its last drops. Soon after, Maui-taha’s penis ran dry and he gave it a gentle shake. Maui-pae’s bladder was the next to fully finish its task. Maui-pae gave his shaft a quick stroke and let his loincloth fall back in place. Maui-roto ended his pee half a minute later and had to give a slight push to drain the last spurt. Maui’s brothers, all finished with their own urinations, sat back on the raft and waited patiently for their youngest brother to end his unplanned bathroom break. The four brothers spent their time waiting and admiring the massive islands Maui fished from the sea. Both islands were similar in size, covered in mountains and valleys, they were gorgeous. How one man could bring such massive islands up, the brothers had no clue. But Maui did inherit the strength of a god. Maui couldn’t help but feel overjoyed. Aside from the orgasmic feeling that came with a drop in full bladder pressure, Maui was beyond proud of himself. He brought up two new islands and earned his brother’s respect. So much so that they were willing to pee with him. Maui knew if he lost control and pissed over the edge of the boat a few hours ago, they would have found him a disgrace. But now… Now they viewed him as one of them. Maui wondered if his mother, Hina the moon goddess was watching him. He hoped she was… Well, he didn’t really like the idea of his mom watching him urinate… But he would love to know that she was watching him complete his trails. Sure, Maui and his mother had never seen eye to eye, but he hoped she too was proud of him. If nothing else, Hina should be proud of her son’s divine bladder. Nearly five minutes in and Maui was still gushing like a garden hose. Maui may not be a god, but as a demigod, his bladder took a while to properly drain. Especially when it was this full. As Maui reached minute six, his stream began to waver and after a few final, shorter jets, Maui was done. His urine mixed with the sea and Maui was relaxed. Maui crashed onto his back on the canoe as his brothers began to sail for home. “Thanks for the idea, Maui,” Maui-taha wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “That was a relief!” Maui just grinned. “What can I say except you’re welcome?” Even though this adventure was highly exciting and enjoyable, the one problem was, the brothers had yet to catch fish for the family. Seeing as the island of Maui was a while off, the brothers decided to head back and they would do some fishing when they got closer to their homeland. Between the island pulling and all of the peeing, the fish of this area would have been scared off anyway. Maui and his brothers would collect fish closer to home. Maui had done four great deeds at this point and he planned to do more! With a bladder empty of juice, anything was possible, after all!
This next story I wrote is one of my personal favorites. The reason being is that this story is not at all my own imagination and this story actually happened in Norse mythology! Granted, I created the dialogue and all of the extra details, but this event was said to have actually taken place. Gjálp’s monster feet pounded against the soil, shaking the earth. The giantess lunged across the realm, deeply regretting all that mead. The giantess’ bladder was swollen so large, it could have been used as a marine life sanctuary. After way too much mead and a very long time traveling, Gjálp was gravely in need of a place to micturate. Gjálp had been forbidden from tending to her bodily needs for three months now. As a giantess, her bladder captivity surprised even that of most of the gods. Given her giantess statue, Gjálp’s bladder was quite literally massive. Gjálp carried an unnatural amount of piss inside her pelvis for a very long time now. Yet, no matter how much Gjálp begged for the outhouse, her father refused her needs. Instead, whenever she asked, he just made her chug another barrel of mead. All because he wished to defeat his greatest foe. Gjálp and her sister, Gerip, did rock-paper-scissors for this disgraceful task. Sadly, Gjálp lost, hence why she is here. Gjálp grumbled under her breath, already feeling the first leaks begin to dribble down her dress. The Jötunn swore more than any sailor in all the land. Her feet punched the earth, her toes leaving creators in the soil. Gjálp’s target was in sight. Her bladder felt as though it would burst from her abdomen at any moment now. Gjálp rounded on the river, Vimur. Just as her father had promised, wadding across the stream, halfway through the current was none other than the mighty Thor himself. With his iron-gloved hands, he grasped Mjölnir in one hand and his strong iron staff in the other. The hefty god marched across the river bed. The shallow waters refused to pass his waist. Loki the god of mischief clung in the thunder god’s back. Technically speaking, after Gjálp’s father, Geirrad captured Loki, he promised to let Loki live if Loki brought him Thor. But sacrifices needed to be made for the Jötunn to rid themselves of their worst foe, Thor! Apparently, Loki's life and Gjálp’s bladder were said sacrifices. Regardless, Gjálp was only mere moments from letting her urine out, and she could not be more happy. Reaching the river, Gjálp threw one leg over to the opposite side of the bank. Stradling the river, Gjálp kept each foot firmly planted on either side of the swift current. Tugging her dress as far up as her chest, the giantess squatted above the river, flashing the icy waters of Vimur, her naked pussy overflowing with fur. Vimur was the largest river of the known universe. It dated all the way back to the creation of the nine worlds. And Gjálp would have the honor of pissing in it! She had to admit, having the opportunity to wash Thor away and forever rid her people of the blasted thunder god was an amazing chance. Her people would view her as a heroine! Her massive bladder captivity would destroy the very man who has murdered so many Jötunns. Gjálp watched as Thor struggled to push past a heavy wave that shot at him. The thunder god fought his way forward and continued moving across the river. While Gjálp wasn’t too thrilled that her father refused her relief for so long, she understood his perspective. Thor was seconds from being taken care of! And now it was up to Gjálp to once and for all vanquish the mighty Thor. So, she adjusted her stance, squatted a tad lower, and opened up her muscles. The feeling of freedom hit Gjálp harder than Vimur’s massive tidal waves. A blow-hole-sized urethra opened its walls wide and out of it came the most violent, messy, chaotic hiss ever heard in the realm of the Vikings. As Gjálp released her urine, steam appeared as the boiling liquid - previously inside her body - now met the freezing Norse air. Gjálp felt as though she was on top of the world. After months of holding back her mead, being forbidden from releasing it, and only adding more drink to the torture, Gjálp was finally allowed to unclench her muscles and give in to her needs. The pressure rapidly drained from Gjálp’s pelvis and instead filled the swift river below her. Gjálp’s vulva heated up with a sweltering atmosphere of fresh urine. The gush shot from her wide-opened piss hole and fled into the river. The waters rippled and below her, they transformed a light shade of green. The Virmur quickly became flooded with added liquids. The waters billowed skyward, surpassing Thor’s stomach, his chest, and his shoulders. Gjálp felt herself break into a smile, her tusks poking out of the corner of her line of sight. The giantess felt nothing but cheer as her pelvis drained and her people’s arch-enemy became submerged in the current. As Vimur overflowed, Thor and Loki became lost below its depths. Gjálp’s monster bladder wasn’t even a portion of the way voided yet, and she could barely see Thor or Loki anymore. Who knew the best way to kill Thor was by pissing for a few seconds? That’s all it took. With the mass amount of urine being ejected from her bladder every millisecond, it did not take long for Vimur’s tides to become so unstable and rocky that two of the strongest Aesir were lost below its rising rapid. “Hey, Thor,” Gjálp shouted, despite no longer seeing the thunder god. “Good riddance! Why don’t you suck my…” Before she could finish her taunt, a tremendous hand, gloved in iron exploded from the waves. Its fingers were curled as though it was holding something. Splashing from the shaking waters came none other than Thor with Loki still riding piggyback. Loki spit out water and desperately clung to Thor’s shoulders. Panicking now, the god of mischief climbed over Thor’s back and squeezed his face for dear life. Thor turned to Gjálp. Their eyes locked. The two Aesir gods bobbed along the waves like a sinking ship. Gjálp understood her victory had been a bit too easy. It would take more than that to keep Thor down. Ready to show the thunder god what she was made of, Gjálp bore down on her pelvis. She pushed and pushed and pushed as if she was having a bowel movement. Gjálp’s muscles contracted harder than ever before in the giantess’ life. Her bladder attempted to eject every drop of pee all at once. Gjálp’s flow of bodily liquid went from strong to off-the-charts-hissing-like-the-queen-of-waterfalls. Gjálp’s stream was so heavy, she could feel splashback from the growing river splash her legs and her labia. The giantess refused to give in. She continued to push down, attempting to squirt all of her bladder’s weight into Vimur. Thor and Loki continuously rocked in the waves. The tide was climbing so high, both gods were forced to swim to the surface. Gjálp was pissing so much, the icy waters of Vimur began to boil over and they were even beginning to develop a nice yellow tint to them. For a master trickster, Loki was terrible in an emergency situation. The god of mischief continued to climb all over Thor like a scared cat would its owner. Thor kept pushing Loki’s hands away from his long, red beard and fixed his eyes on Gjálp’s. Thor pulled his closed fist back and then swung it forward like he was chucking a baseball. The projectile moved so fast, Gjálp was unable to make it out. It appeared just to be a gray trail of light. It was shooting so fast that the item was on fire like a comet. Gjálp barely had time to flinch before the object vanished beneath her legs and Gjálp felt a sharp twinge of her muscles. The roar of giantess water stopped. Gjálp’s pee hole was suddenly closed off. There was a prickling sensation from Gjálp’s nethers. No matter how hard Gjálp pushed down and tried to piss, her body refused to spill so much as another drop. Gjálp’s hands flew across her labia, still dripping with her behemoth micturition. Gjálp finally stumbled upon the problem. After finding her urethral opening, she discovered it was no longer an opening! Stuck inside her piss hole was a large rock. That terrible Thor clogged up her pipes with one swing of a stone! Gjálp wanted to murder the Aesir god! But panic began to fill her noggin. If Gjálp’s pee hole was clogged, could she ever pee again? Gjálp had managed to release enough fluid in a quite amount of time that this was not a serious issue short term. But in the long run, would she ever be able to pee again? Gjálp knew her bladder was already filling up. It still had a decent weight to it and it was getting fuller by the moment. What if she was unable to remove the stone? Would Gjálp ever be able to drain herself? Would she have to live with the constant pressure? What if her bladder burst? So many thoughts ran through Gjálp’s skull that the giantess found herself temporarily rigid. Her mind felt as if clouds were blocking it out. Her paranoia took over and insisted that her bladder was much more full than it felt. This new added fear made her need to urinate even more. As Gjálp stood there, frozen in fear, trying to work with her horrified brain and construct a plan, she hardly even noticed Thor and Loki making it to the opposite end of the river. Thor stuck his iron staff between two branches of a rowan tree on the other side and used it to pull both him and a still freaking-out Loki to safety. The two gods escaped and resumed their journey. Had Gjálp been in her right state of mind, she would have crushed both gods under toe for such a horrible deed. On the contrary, however, Gjálp’s mental state was out the window. The giantess had no idea where to go from here. How would she ever be able to drain herself again. Stepping onto one side of the river so she was no longer squatting, Gjálp paced up and down the valley, hoping said movement would inspire her brain. Her fingers were much too large to remove such a blockage. She still couldn’t believe Thor lodged a stone up her pee hole! Jeez, Gjálp has heard of kidney stones, but this was ridiculous! That was it! Normally when a person has trouble urinating, what helps them the most? Having to pee more! Gjálp thought that was how it worked anyway. She could be wrong, but she was desperate and decided to try anything. Gjálp got onto her hands and knees before the River Vimur. The waters of said river were overflowing onto the icy land. The yellowish river was causing the surrounding ice to melt. Normally Gjálp would be proud of having turned such a cold river into such a warm one. To change the entire climate around a moving body of water… That was impressive. Still, Gjálp knew the river would get cold again. Urine does cool down after a while, after all. Especially with the freezing temperatures of Scandinavia. Gjálp stared at the flowing river with disgust, knowing full well these were the same waters she just peed in. Desperate to dislodge this stone, she sucked in her courage and began to scoop water out of the river into her cupped hands which she slurped down. Realizing this would take too long, the giantess stuffed her entire face in the river and began to gulp down wave after wave. After spending much time at the bank of Vimur, Gjálp managed to drink enough fluid to cause the river to retreat almost back to its normal size. Gjálp soon began to feel the added pressure hit her. Her kidneys did their work with efficacy (despite having had to refilter previously urinated pee). Now, the Jötunn had a mountain-sized amount of pressure pressing into her sphincter. Gjálp quickly squatted again on the river bank and opened up her muscles. This permitted the pee to flow. Gjálp could feel it rush down her pee tube, filling the urethra with hot liquid. Finally, the urine banged against the stone and remained trapped in her body. Not a single drop was able to pass from behind the boulder, holding her bladder prisoner. Gjálp began to get anxious again. Not only was she still unable to pee, but now she drank half a river and her bladder was more full than ever. Gjálp felt as if an entire planet of water was being held inside her body. She knew this pressure would drive her crazy soon if she couldn’t get it out. Gjálp was tempted to at least try to remove the stone manually. But she was afraid her mammoth-sized fingers would just end up pushing the rock father inside her, making the situation ten times worse. Gjálp clenched her muscles again, once again restricting the flow. There was still a large amount of urine trapped forever in her urethra. She decided to try again. Gjálp pushed as hard as she could, giving her urine pressure a fighting edge against its battle with Thor’s nasty rock. Gjálp’s urine once again hammered against the stone, but it held its ground. Gjálp did, however, feel a few drops trickle down her legs. This meant it was working, right? She pulled her urine into a full retreat, holding back the flood before giving in and pushing as hard as she could. Gjálp had no clue if this was how the human body even worked. But she was a giantess, the rules of humanity didn’t apply to her anyway. This was worth a shot. She pushed down, squeezing as tight as she could. Her face broke out into a sweat and her body shook with frustration. She felt as if she was giving birth from her pee hole. Another trickle leaked out, this one stronger than the last. Damn that Thor! He really wedged it in well. But Gjálp refused to let him win. She would pee! Gjálp tried again. The fourth time’s the charm! She held her piss for a moment, allowing her shaking, sweaty body to take a break. Afterward, she released and allowed pressure to fill her chute. Once again, only a few small drips. Urine had been trapped inside her pee tube for so long, her internal urethra began to burn with irritation. Gjálp knew if she didn’t get this rock removed soon, she would have serious problems on her hand. Okay, maybe the fifth time’s the charm! Gjálp let her body rest and then bared down once more. She remained squatting, clutching her fists at her side, shaking like a freezing ice giant in labor. Against all odds, the pressure became so great that the stone shot from Gjálp’s body and splashed down into the River Vimur, vanishing below the tide. Following the stone out was a monster gush of boldly fluid. Gjálp’s breath came out in an exasperated puff of steam. The giantess’ shoulders rolled up. She began to pant worse than a dog in summer. Letting out a weak and slightly miserable moan, Gjálp forced herself to relax and just enjoy the feeling of pissing. A giant wall of urine fled from Gjálp’s sweaty vaginal lips. The jet crashed into the river and once again caused the waters to ripple. Gjálp’s river quickly forced the Vimur River to rise back up. The mighty river again began to overflow towards the top of the banks and spill its contents over the edge, From her position, Gjálp’s pointed toes became doused in her waters, but she didn’t care. It was a scary feeling being physically unable to pee. But now that it was over, Gjálp wanted to sing to the heavens. She gushed like the world’s worst sea storm. The waters of Vimur bounced all around. Hissing filled Gjálp’s ears and her pressure slowly dropped down. Gjálp knew she would be here for a while. She was expected back at her father’s place. On the off chance that Thor and Loki escaped - which they now did - Geirrad had a backup plan for murdering them. Something about Gjálp and her sister, Gerip lifting Thor’s chair to the ceiling so he would be crushed between the ceiling and his very own seat. Geirrad’s schemes were always needlessly violent and confusing. Gjálp knew she needed to leave soon. She still had to beat Thor and Loki back to her father’s place. But this piss felt too damn good to stop! Gjálp refused to stop the flow. Not for all the treasure of the dwarfs. The torrential gush continued to swell up the riverbed and misplace the water already contained. Yellow river water flowed all over. Gjálp just kept up the flow, taking satisfaction in every minute she spent peeing. After nearly half an hour, Gjálp was nowhere near done urinating. But she knew her father would kill her should she miss his evil plan to murder Thor. So, Gjálp reluctantly wrapped it up. Closing off her stream, she was temporarily satisfied with her partially emptied bladder. Gjálp’s urinary sack was still so full that she had to do a small jig every once in a while, but she should be okay until after Thor was dead. Then, she would have an even more wonderful relief! Maybe her father would let her pee all over Thor’s dead body! That would be a dream come true to drown a deceased Thor in her golden glory. With these happy thoughts in mind, Gjálp began to skip back home, ready to help her father and sister defeat Thor once and for all.
I think the most common response was c, so here is a story of the Greek Amazon warriors, Otrera and Hippolyta. Otrera and her daughter, Hippolyta, rushed through the swamp. The two large Amazonian women charged through the brush, their arrows notched in bows and spears swinging wildly. Their armor clanged against their shins. Hippolyta kept her legs as close together as possible, bringing them side by side whenever feasible. Hippolyta would die of shame if she ever admitted this, but the gallons of water she chugged earlier were ready to make their way back into the world in their new form. And the tight war pants she was wearing did not help matters. Hippolyta could feel the heavy water balloon drag on the ground behind her, getting restricted by her intense armor. Her bladder had spent the past twelve hours getting pumped with water and now it demanded attention. But Hippolyta could not share this information to her mother or fellow warriors without seeming weak. Otrera, meanwhile, was sharing a much similar dilemma as her daughter. Otrera was also carrying around a bladder that was swollen far past its limit. It wasn’t easy being Queen of the Amazons, everyone always wanted something from you. Whenever Otrera thought she had the chance to get some relief, one of her Amazons was always there to request something. Be it sharpening a knife or leading an assault on a powerful attacking beast. Otrera hasn’t had the opportunity to pee since last night. And even then, she passed it up for the choice to sleep instead. Otrera woke up in the middle of the night with a screaming deaf bladder, but she ignored it and continued to snore. Now, after hours of neglect, her bladder was sending urgent signals to the Queen of the Amazon’s brain. A little-known fact about the Amazons. While it is true that they valued strength and bravery and all of that other stuff, another more hidden skill the Amazons valued was urinary abilities. The Amazons believed that the act of holding your pee took strength just as much as weight lifting or bench pressing. For an Amazon to state her urgent need to urinate, was a violation of strength. Amazons would sit around a water cooler, downing goblet after goblet and share with each other how long it has been since they last visited the chamber pot. Their fellow Amazons would ohh and ahh as they heard about the lengths to which their fellows would go to to control their waters. There was nothing more embarrassing to an Amazon than to state they were desperate for a wee. Neither Hippolyta nor Otrera would dare mention an urgent need for the restroom. If either woman did speak of their needs, it would be followed by how long it had been since they last went. Still, between the bouncing around and the tight armor, Hippolyta felt ready to blow. But she couldn’t. Having an accident was the ultimate form of embarrassment with the Amazons. It was like shouting, ‘Hey, everyone! Look at me! I’m too weak to hold my pee!’ Hippolyta was not weak! She would hold! Amazons fired arrows up into the treetops. Out of the trees feel deceased birds with razor-sharp beaks. The Stymphalian birds - the same ones Heracles faced in one of his twelve mighty labors - came tumbling from the canopy, dead before even striking the ground. The beasts had come far too close to Amazon territory. It was time for them to meet their match! Amazons shot rounds of arrows, and chucked volleys of spears. Bird after bird faced Thanatos [god of death]. The Amazon’s rejoiced. The Stymphalian birds were vanquished. After collecting many of the bodies, it was almost time to head home. But there was one pit stop to make along the way. (And much to Ortera and Hippolyta’s dismay) it was not a restroom. The Amazons trudged up many mountains and hills. The walk was long and very hot. Naturally, they were forced to consume water. The Amazons drank and laughed with one another, joking around as a way to make the lengthy journey more bearable. Otrera did an excellent job of masking her desperation. The current Amazon queen joined in and joked around with her fellow Amazon warriors. Hippolyta on the other hand was struggling far worse than her mother. Hippolyta constantly held gentle hands over her bulge. Her hands explored her swollen stomach. She breathed in and out, feeling the internal pressure rise. Hippolyta carefully lifted her belt off of her waist and moved it around, trying to make it even slightly more tolerable. One of the Amazons asked Hippolyta what was wrong. Hippolyta lied and told everyone that she was sweltering under her uniform. All that lie did was earn Hippolyta some more water to guzzle. Having extra water flowing through her system, Hippolyta felt as though her insides were drowning under the sea. But she continued to refuse to say anything. Now, Hippolyta hobbled across the terrain with her knees glued together. Hippolyta wanted so badly to give herself a nice squeeze. Just one to help her make it the rest of the way. But so much as a single scratch would be a sign of weakness. It was difficult enough to walk as it was. Hippolyta didn’t need to send her crew any more signals of her growing desperation. Every time they passed a bush or a boulder or a nice thick tree trunk, Hippolyta’s bladder facepalmed. The reason being is how wild and outdoorsy the Amazons are. Sure, they did use chamber pots back at camp, but here in the wilderness, they are skilled at urinating outdoors. Every single hidden area they passed seemed to call to Hippolyta, enticing her to visit for a quick bathroom break. Otrera was also suffering. Not nearly as much as her daughter, but the queen’s bladder was quite full as well. Otrera was mostly able to distract herself with conversation. (Although she restrained herself from laughter). This made her warriors curious, asking why she refused to laugh. Otrera, being as blunt as ever, simply told them that their jokes weren’t funny. Otrera - unlike Hippolyta - was still walking okay. But she knew that wouldn’t last for long. As the queen of the Amazons, Otrera could call out a bathroom break whenever she wished. But knowing her gang, they would likely refuse such a thing. The Amazons saw bathroom breaks as futile. The Amazon’s had nearly limitless bladder captivities. (Not nearly as much as the divine), but their bladders were giant nonetheless. No matter how long the journey was, no matter how much they drank, the Amazons were most likely to turn down a single bathroom break. Accepting such a proposition was one of the most humiliating things an Amazon could do. Even if someone in the group was bursting, they would be far too proud to admit it. After much traveling, the Amazons finally reached their destination. Standing before them was a giant camp. Tents were set up and fireplaces were cooking meat. In front of the camp was a group of men, ready to welcome the women to their camp. It was the Gargarean men. The exact opposite of the Amazons, the Gargareans were an all-male tribe. Many would speculate that a group of all women and a group of all men would be at constant war. On the contrary, the Amazons and Gargareans got along fabulously. They had several arrangements. One, they traded with one another on a daily basis, gifting each other with supplies. Two, once a year, the Gargarean men would impregnate the Amazons, so each civilization would have a new generation. This worked out well. Instead of keeping their sons as slaves or abandoning them in the wild (which many Amazons still did), they could instead send them to the Gargareans to be raised. It was very rare that the Amazons had offspring without the Gargareans. But it did happen, as was the case with Hippolyta’s son. Hippolyta, the Amazon princess fell in love with the hero Theseus and with him, she gave birth to a son named Hippolytus. (He was named after his mother, of course!) Hippolytus was now a proud hunter of Artemis. Hippolytus was one of the only two male hunters of the goddess Artemis. Hippolytus swore to a life of chastity alongside Artemis and his new hunting sisters. Hippolyta could not be more proud of her son! “Queen Otrera,” King Cobon of the Gargarean tribe addressed. Otrera extended her arms. “King Cobon,” she gushed. The two leaders pulled one another into a tight hug, slapping the other on the back in praise. Otrera could feel her boiling bladder bury itself in Cobon’s abs. Pulling away before her urge grew out of control, Otrera said, “We gathered the Styphalian birds I mentioned in my message.” Otrera’s warriors presented the Stymphalian bird carcasses. “Very nice,” Cobon admired one of the dead birds. “My men love bird meat. And in exchange, we have new war helmets for all of your women gifted to us by Hephetesus himself.” Cobon’s men came forward and passed out a sparkling new war helmet to each of the Amazons. The helmets were engraved with images of war and battle. The Amazons could feel the might of the metal gleam off of the gold. “Do you wish to stay?” Cobon motioned to some nearby tents. “We were just about to serve dinner.” “No, no thank you,” Otrera blurted out. “Too… Too early for dinner. We don’t eat until six.” “Are you sure?” Cobon asked. “Seems like a shame to travel all the way out here for a quick two-minute trade.” “We enjoy walking,” Otrera regretted sounding a bit nasty in her tone. As grateful as Otrera was for Cobon’s hospitality to her and her people, all the queen of the Amazons cared about was getting home to her chamber pot. As much as she loved to squat in the wilderness, Otrera hated it when her Amazons knew she was urinating. One thing chamber pots had over public urination was that no one knew you were doing it. “Thank you very much, Cobon,” Otrera tried to rush along the exchange. “But we must get going.” “I don’t know, I’m kinda hungry,” one of the Amazons patted her stomach. “Not my problem, Thoё,” Otrera snapped. Then she signaled for her Amazons to move out. “Can we at least offer you some water?” Cobon insisted. “It is a long way and it’s awfully hot out…” “No!” Upon seeing Cobon jump back in alarm, Otrera quickly steadied herself. “No, no thank you… We have w… What you said,” Otrera swallowed down the dastardly word. “Let’s go, ladies.” And the Amazons began their return journey home. The trip back was even more devastating for the bursting full mother and daughter bladder duo. Hippolyta was walking with a limp. Her leg was constantly wrapping around the other or pressing into her crotch. Hippolyta grabbed her crotch at one point. As shameful as the act was, Hippolyta was about to spurt if she didn’t. Unfortunately for her, her fellow Amazons noticed this. “Hippolyta, have to pee?” Crias asked. The Amazons giggled, never having seen such an embarrassing display of desperation. Hippolyta turned fuschia. “N… No,” he voice cracked. “You do!” Rhene cried. “You look ready to explode! How old are you, girl?” “I’ve been holding for sixteen hours now and you don’t see me grasping my crotch, do you?” Anysia stated. “Sixteen hours? That’s nothing. I haven’t pissed in over twenty hours,” Alcippe mentioned. “Twenty-two hours over here,” Thoё pointed to herself. “And I’m still going strong!” Hippolyta had no idea how these ladies could possibly hold themselves for so long and not even have to grab themselves or squirm even a little. They all looked perfectly fine and content. But that was the way of the Amazons. Even with gallons of water to drink, they just held everything nicely. It was one of the things Amazons were trained from birth. They were taught from an early age how to properly hold their bladder. The Amazons laughed and poked fun at Hippolyta’s desperate situation. “Don’t think of running water, Hippolyta. Pisssss…” Rhene sounded. “Just do a potty dance like the tiny-bladdered warrior you are,” Anysia mocked by holding her genitalia and hopping around like a three-legged frog. The Amazons burst with laughter. “I DON’T HAVE TO PEE!” Hippolyta erupted, tears streaming down her face. It was beyond humiliating to have the squad witness such a weak state. “Then why are you shouting?”Alcippe pointed at Hippolyta. “You have to pee bad!” “Can you hold it?” Crias teased. “Need a break like one of those weak-bladdered women in society?” “I… I don’t…” Hippolyta was in full on tears now. “Oh, yeah, just cry. That’s womanly of you,” Anysia taunted. “Just cause your bladder’s the size of an acorn doesn’t mean…” “That’s enough,” Otrera snapped. Otrera suspected her daughter needed the restroom for a while now and after that small display, Otrera’s hypothesis was confirmed as fact. At least she wasn’t the only one whose bladder was bursting at the seams. The Amazons traveled in silence the rest of the way. They reached their camp shortly after dinnertime. “Going to powder your nose, Hippolyta?” Rhene giggled. The Amazons laughed as Hippolyta raced to her and Otrera’s tent. Otrera followed causally behind. Hippolyta sped past the rocky and barren landscape, hands shoved down her war skirt. Hippolyta could feel herself leaking along the way. She rushed past two glorious temples. The one on the left was dedicated to Ares and the one on the right to Artemis. The god of war and the feminine goddess were the two gods who the Amazons worshiped the most. Partly because Ares was the father to many of the Amazons - including Hippolyta herself - and Artemis was the patron for women and protected them. Hippolyta made a habit every time she passed these temples to stop and pray to the two gods. Especially her father, Ares. But Hippolyta’s bladder was swollen to the size of a sea serpent’s eyeball. She knew her father and Artemis would understand, but she had to drain herself right away! Hippolyta was tempted just to go behind a rock and do her business. But if someone saw her, they would immediately tell everyone that Hippolyta couldn’t control herself long enough to reach the salvation of her own chamber pot. Hippolyta was already a laughing stock for just holding herself. Imagine if she used a rock. Imagine if she wet… She could never show her face among the Amazons ever again! Hippolyta dashed into the tent she shared with her mother. Hippolyta quickly got to all fours and peered under her mother’s bed. Hippolyta wiggled from side to side. Her hand was stuffed underneath the bed. Feeling around, she grasped a handle and yanked out… The chamber pot! A glorious pot decorated with jewels. A chamber pot fit for a princess! Hippolyta quickly began to strip herself of armor. She tossed away the belt and the skirt. She left on the chest plate sense it was far enough away from her pussy so as not to pose any problems. As Hippolyta readied herself, she cursed out the women who mocked her. Sure, the Amazons may be tough and strong and have high limits, but unlike the gods, the Amazons were human. Or at the most, demigoddesses, like Hippolyta. Either way, they did have limits! Even the gods themselves had to pee every now and then. So, why was everyone so harsh on Hippolyta when she felt full of wee? Hippolyta was just lucky that her mother was there to defend her and… Her mother. Hippolyta was now forced to squeeze every muscle she had to keep her pee hole sealed tight. Looking out between the flaps of her tent, Hippolyta saw her mother casually walking towards her. Hippolyta was far from foolish. She knew her mother also needed a leak, even if she wouldn’t admit it, even if she didn’t show it. Why else would Otrera be on her way to the tent rather than supper. Hippolyta grunted, but she had to do the right thing. Removing the gorgeous pot from her crotch, and shoving her knee back up her clamped-down pussy, Hippolyta waited for her mother to enter the tent. Otrera looked on at her daughter naked from the waist down with a chamber pot in her hands and her knee up her womanhood. “Mom, you can go first,” Hippolyta moaned. It took all the strength she had, but she forced herself to hand the pot over. “Oh, no, no, no, sweetie, I can hold it,” Otrera folded her arms. “You go right ahead.” Just like the other Amazons, Otrera showed zero signs of needing the restroom. But that didn’t mean she didn’t need to go! Otrera’s bladder resembled a giant naval battle. There were tidal waves and rain pelting the rising sea. Piss sloshed against the bladder walls, spinning around and around in its own mini whirlpool. Otrera felt an intense pressure below her navel that told her she had very little time to relieve herself. But Otrera was an Amazon. The queen no less. She was more than capable of holding herself without the use of hands or crossed legs. Otrera held with nothing but her pelvic floor muscles. Otrera knew her daughter was in much greater danger of exploding than she was. Otrera was more than willing to stand back and wait her turn. The Amazons - while outdoorsy - didn’t make a big habit of peeing outside their tents while in camp. Peeing outside was usually a ‘no better option’ type of thing. While Otrera technically could exit the tent to urinate somewhere else, for similar reasons to her daughter, she would rather use the chamber pot in this particular instance. Hippolyta felt her chest heat up, gratitude towards her mother filled her entire form. Hippolyta was only more willing to allow her mother to go first now. But after feeling a powerful pang from her sphincter dam, Hippolyta knew she had run out of time! Hippolyta tore her legs from one another and the moment she did so, a rapid gush emerged from her sweating vulva. Hippolyta just managed to push the pot beneath her in time. The first small trickle rolled down the side of the chamber pot and landed on the floor. The rest of the floor splashed down in the chamber pot. The sound hissed all around the Amazon kingdom. Nearly clear waste flooded the sides of the bowl, filling it rapidly. While the mainstream fired from her pee hole, there was a much smaller stream that trickled down the side of her vulva and then fell from Hippolyta’s anus area. One mainstream and a much weaker stream paraded into the dish, causing it to grow in weight. “That’s an awful lot of pee,” Otrera noted, unable to take her eyes off of her daughter’s spray. The noise and the sight made Otrera’s bladder quiver, but the Amazon queen still had enough discipline not to hold or even squirm. No matter how bad the urge got, Queen Otrera just stood there with hands to her sides and legs an appropriate distance apart. Hippolyta’s lake was nearing the top of the chamber pot. “You might have to stop, dear,” Otrera said matter-of-factly. Hippolyta quickly tensed her muscles, sealing off her urine tube. Just in time as well. Just a few more ounces and the chamber pot would run all over the place. “M… Mom…” Hippolyta managed. “I got it,” Otrera took the heavy pan from her daughter. The pot weighed more than a newborn mule. But Otrera managed to keep a tight hold of it, her daughter’s yellow urine sloshing between the sides. Otrera stepped outside of the tent and dumped the piss to the floor. The urine splashed down and dissolved below the cracky rock ground. The noise of urine meeting rock was enough to make Otrera ready to gush herself. But she held back and reentered the tent. “Do you have more?” She asked her daughter. Hippolyta’s vagina dripping urine, the Amazon princess nodded. “A lot,” she admitted, shyly. Otrera handed her daughter back the pot. “I went enough mom,” Hippolyta held up her hand. “I got the initial pressure off. I can hold now. You go.” Otrera pursed her lips. “How about we take turns?” Hippolyta nodded. “That sounds fair.” Hippolyta held the damp chamber pot - which sported droplets of urine along its walls - while Otrera got undressed from the waist down. Otrera took the chamber pot and placed it in between her thighs. A powerfully thick spray of tinkle rained down from Otrera’s labia and cruised down into the container. Urine spewed from Otrera’s pussy. Her stream was a lot neater than her daughter’s. It was just a solid stream with a few drips here and there. Yellow urine slowly filled the vessel. Otrera’s stream was very powerful, but slower than that of her daughter. Hippolyta stood back patiently. While it was true that her bladder was much more relaxed after that initial explosion, after watching her mother make a stream, Hippolyta found her knees jiggling up and down. She had too much pride to use her hands, but her legs were indeed dancing. Hippolyta hoped her mom would finish soon so it could be her turn again. Otrera knew right away that just like Hippolyta, she would fill up more than one of these. Otrera also could sense how restless Hippolyta was getting. Otrera tried to push, so she could pee faster and thus give her desperate daughter her turn again. Soon enough, Otrera’s wee was foaming across the surface of the pot. There was even a deep yellow swirl across the face of the yellow pond. Otrera dumped her foamy urine outside the tent. Reentering, she passed the pot back to Hippolyta. Mother and daughter took turns draining themselves. For every chamber pot they peed, they felt waves better. Hippolyta ended up urinating three and a half half a liter bowls while her mother pissed five bowls. The two Amazons were exhausted after an exquisite micturition like that. The duo put the dripping chamber pot away and redressed. “Mom,” Hippolyta grabbed her mother’s elbow. “Can… Can you please not mention how desperate I was to the others?” Otrera saw how embarrassed her daughter was and how much this secret meant to her. Otrera herself understood. The Amazons could be brutal with their teasing. And when one of them grew desperate to pee - as rare as that was - the woman became a laughingstock of the entire Amazon community. Otrera took off her war helmet and allowed her hair to shake free. Placing the helmet under her pit, Otrera replied, “I’ll keep your secret if you keep mine.” This caught Hippolyta off guard. “What’s your secret?” Otrera smiled. “After I produce a grand pee like that, I feel like masturbating and going to sleep.” “Gross, mom!” Hippolyta scrunched up her face, not wanting to hear about her own mother’s sexual urges. Otrera laughed. “Let’s feast,” and she led the way out of the tent with Hippolyta right behind her.
Next I wrote a story about Haumea the Hawaiian goddess of fertility and childbirth: Haumea pushed past a bushy fern. The goddess stumbled forward. Her long green dress, the color of the forest, was dripping wet from rainwater. The sensation not only made Haumea cold, but sparked her need to pee. Haumea wished she had been smart enough to go before leaving Nuumealani the land of the gods. She assumed she would just pop down to earth for a quick trip. Naturally, however, luck was not on the Hawaiian goddess’ side. Haumea hissed through her teeth. Battling against her bladder’s weight, she forced herself forward. Haumea carefully stepped over the upturned tree roots and large rocks. At one point, her dress snagged on a tree branch. Cursing to herself, Haumea tugged with all her might on her trapped garment. “Oh, come on,” Haumea gritted. Her dress snapped free and slapped Haumea in her soggy face. The goddess of childbirth stumbled backward and found herself falling over a rock. Haumea let out a monster-sized bellow as she hit the ground. While the pain wasn’t too bad, the fall itself sent shock waves of pressure into Haumea’s pelvis. What had started as an uncomfortably full bladder was now an agonizing stomach filled with water cramps. Haumea’s hands laced around her genitals. The goddess of childbirth just lay on the forest floor, her ear digging into the dirt. Her sweaty hair was dripping in her face like a wet carpet. Haumea just lay on her side, her hands stuck between her closed-off thighs. Haumea moaned from her position on the ground. Never in her immortal life has she had to pee so desperately. While she knew it wasn’t right, Haumea partially blamed her husband, Kanoloa. The god of the sea and the underworld challenged his wife to a kava drinking contest. The couple chugged down glass after glass of kava drink. Haumea recalled going into said contest with an already sloshy bladder feeling. While the kava drink is non-alcoholic, it does have many similar side effects to alcohol including a boost in mood and diuretic properties. Worse yet, after kava wears off, one is left to deal with the consequences of their actions. Now, like many before her, Haumea was truly paying the price for indulging in so many alcohol-like drinks. Haumea just wanted to stay where she was, bury herself in the ground, and remain there sobbing for the rest of the time. But the logical side of her brain - which grew thinner the longer she held - knew that her problem would not be solved through tears. Haumea was almost to the rainbow bridge. Just a little farther and she would be free to use her at-home chamber pot. Haumea grasped a tree trunk and used it to pull herself up. Her legs remained tied the whole way, making her balance extra unsteady. The goddess of childbirth kept both hands against her vulva while she hobbled forward. Haumea reminded herself that she was nearly out of the forest, just a little more to go. Haumea angrily swished her head to the side, causing her wet locks of curly hair to flap away from her face and land over her shoulder. Haumea feared making any sharp movements, knowing they would pop her bladder. But try as she might, she could not, for the life of her find a straight line to walk in. The lovely Hawaiian goddess floundered around worse than a newbie learning how to surf. Haumea had to blink her eyes extra hard to remove the drips of rainwater falling into them. What a terrible day! First, Haumea discovers that her beautiful singing tree is gone and then she gets stuck in a rainstorm! Haumea still remembered the day Muleiula gave her the tree with the singing blossoms. The mortal, Muleiula had been so grateful that Haumea taught her how to give birth naturally, she gifted Haumea with the beautiful singing tree. The flowers sang such a sweet melody. Unfortunately, as Haumea brought the tree back to the realm of the gods, she stopped to take a drink. Upon setting the tree down, its roots grew in the soil and it was unable to be removed. So, Haumea just built a wall around the tree to protect it. Now, some damn tree cutter broke the wall and chopped down the tree. The tree was swept away downriver and was lost for good. It was exactly stupid things like this that made Haumea tempted to dry up the human’s food sources and allow them to starve. Humans can’t leave anything alone, can they? As if losing her precious tree wasn’t bad enough, Haumea ended up caught in the very same storm that washed her darling tree away. Now, her outfit sagged and sloshed with each step she took. Her hair was dripping and her skin was coated in rivers of rainwater. Haumea foolishly replayed the massive storm in her mind. The very idea of a torrential downpour was enough to make Haumea subconsciously close down her sphincter even tighter. Each step felt like a marathon. Haumea’s need for the bathroom outweighed any other thought she could possibly possess at that moment. Haumea desired nothing more than to squat over her tower-sized chamber pot and let go of all she held. Such a relief it would be to gush out dozens of pent-up kavas. Haumea could feel her bladder pound like a racing heartbeat more and more with each step she took. Leaning against a tree for support, Haumea had to take a break. Her bladder was so heavy, just escorting it around took strength that the childbirth goddess no longer had. Haumea let out a sound halfway between a sniffle and a gasp. Placing her head against the rough bark, she knew she would have to come up with a new plan as this current one clearly wasn't working. After a moment’s pause, Haumea developed an idea. It was a long shot, but sensing she was running out of time, she decided to go for it. Haumea reached into the front of her dress. Lodged neatly in the cleavage of her bosom, was her wand, Makalei. Removing her wand, Haumea waved it over herself. Sparks came from Makalei’s tip and Haumea found that her arms shrank down and burst into feathers. Her head became much smaller and a tail sprouted from her backside. Her toes wedged together and her nose popped outward. Haumea the Hawaiian goddess of childbirth was now a small nene bird. Haumea’s vision split in half. She felt even more unstable than in human form. But this guise gave her the ability of flight which was something that the childbirth goddess badly needed right about now. Haumea sure did love her magical shape-shifting wand! Now that Haumea was in bird form, there was no time to lose! Haumea spread her newfound wings and kicked off of the earth. Haumea flapped her feathery wings, gliding along the upper canopy of kapok trees. The goddess of childbirth soared across the skies, weaving in and out of branches. She shot through the air as fast as her wings would allow. The only issue was, now that Haumea was a small bird, her bladder was even more restricted than before. Shape-shifting is always a bit odd in different situations. The interesting thing about birds is that they don’t have urinary bladders. Normally, shapeshifting from animal to animal or plant to plant allows Haumea to possess all of that organism’s characteristics, internal and external. Whenever Haumea shapeshifts on an empty bladder, she is perfectly fine in the new form she takes. But whenever she transforms on a ragging full bladder, all of her stored urine must go somewhere. Normally, if Haumea shape-shifted into a bird, she would end up excreting urine involuntarily. Seeing as this would defeat the purpose, Haumea instead allowed herself to keep her full bladder. As much as she was dying to get rid of it, she didn’t want to piss all over the place with zero control. Again, that would defeat the purpose of flying home as a nene bird. So, Haumea silently asked Makalei to let her keep her rock-hard urine storage tank. Haumea zipped across the tree line. Now that she was a bird and thus smaller, her ginormous bladder stuck right out of her stomach. Hanging several inches lower than her face, Haumea could feel her bladder burning with a golden vengeance. The bulge was boiling hot and even itchy. Haumea could feel her monstrous pee sack drag her toward the ground. The whole reason birds lacked bladders was so they could be lighter and fly around more efficiently. But Haumea the bird was still stuck with her bladder which acted as nothing more than a dead weight. Haumea felt herself getting pulled by gravity toward the ground. Inisalty, Haumea had a nice boost of excitement which guided her closer to the restroom. Now, after flying for a few moments, Haumea found that she was once again in heavy discomfort. Her bladder was so full, it was like lugging around fifty pounds of pig meat with your pinky fingers. Haumea’s bladder constantly tugged her toward the earth. No matter how hard she fought, the thing was just way too heavy to keep afloat. Pressure curled inside Haumea’s brittle bird body. A particularly tasty stab of pressure jolted Haumea into a frenzy. Shutting her eyes in a deep grimace, Haumea noticed the tree branch too late. Smashing into a tree branch, Haumea was thrown off course and found herself flailing over the mix of trees and crashing down into the beach. Buried in the sand, Haumea’s bladder gave an extra sharp twinge, as it severely despised that crash landing. Haumea’s urinary needs skyrocketed as her body struggled to recover from the fall. The goddess of childbirth pulled herself from the sand. Realizing her birdie bladder bulge was far too tedious to take care of, she shapeshifted back into the lovely goddess, Haumea. Haumea had sand in her eyes from the fall. Her eyes watered from this and also desperation pains. Haumea was so weak, she could hardly stand. So many kava drinks were inching their way closer and closer to freedom. Haumea kept her legs tied into a series of elaborate knots. Her breathing was shaky and her head drummed in her skull. Haumea’s bladder banged in her stomach. Haumea looked with tired eyes to the wonderful sight of the rainbow bridge. The godly bridge made of pure rainbow rested in the sands of the island. Sitting at the end of the rainbow was a large canoe which Haumea took here. Now all that was left was to climb into her canoe, row back up the rainbow bridge, and rush to her cottage, preferably before spurting her non-alcoholic urine all over Nuumealani and/or the rainbow bridge and/or her canoe. Haumea lifted a trembling foot. As she did so, water pressure as heavy as a coconut clobbered her sphincter, preparing to dislodge it. Haumea’s fingers curled in spikes around her privates. Her hands stood side by side, squeezing her crotch harder than the jealous Pele holds onto her lovers. Haumea’s whole body trembled as if she was caught in an earthquake. Unable to help herself, Haumea’s twitching urine hole opened and a squirt of blazing hot liquid launched itself from her labia and damped the back of her dress. Hissing through her teeth, Haumea managed to close herself off. Instantly, however, a second jet gushed out. The urine fired backward, causing the butt of Haumea’s lovely green dress to grow a dark, wet patch. Urine oozed down the childbirth goddess’ legs. Haumea’s lower half dripped in bladder discharge. The desperate goddess yelped loudly as another squirt escaped and soaked the back of her dress further. The accident was starting. No way in the underworld could Hauma hold a second more, let alone the rest of the way home. Haumea scanned the area. Sprinting behind a bush of bright pink plumeria flowers, Haumea threw her dress up. Another blast of fiery warm tinkle sped down her legs. Haumea hissed again. She looked around once, twice, no one was around. Haumea’s rear flew to the earth. The fertility goddess squatted over the ground just as the final eruption occurred. Squatting behind the shrub, Haumea instantly realized that she should have done this ages ago! Haumea felt herself squeal of delight. As her muscles unclenched and her pee tube became flooded, urine shot from her pussy lips into the grass. The goddess of childbirth placed her fingers on either side of her face and tugged, pulling on her skin, not knowing what to make of the pleasure her lower half was currently experiencing. Haumea felt as if some small animal was tearing her urethral opening apart. The urine was hotter than all the sand of the islands. Haumea found her teeth sinking into her lower lips as she held back a series of curses. The goddess of childbirth had never been so relieved to feel such blazing hot urine charge out of her labia at such a powerful force. After being silenced for so long, her urine was flaming warm. The feeling of it spraying past her labia and into the sands below made Haumea’s heart rate and breathing compete in a race. Haumea’s immortal body soon calmed down as she grew accustomed to the sensation of bodily water fleeing from her vulva. As a goddess associated with the earth, Haumea hadn’t a clue as to why she kept her urine bottled up so long. It would have been one thing if she was indoors or around people, but Haumea had been outside in the forest. Why hadn’t she let go miles back? Haumea’s hair was still dripping. The back of her dress was damp from the urine she accidentally released. Haumea hasn’t felt this splendid since she birthed her children. (Of course, Haumea gave birth to her children from various parts of her body. Pele came from her armpit, Kapo her eyes, Kamohoali'i her head, Paupauo from her shoulder, Nāmaka her thigh, Hi’iaka her mouth, etc). Haumea wasn’t used to releasing something so massive from her lady bits. Haumea had never once given birth to a child from her vagina region, she wasn’t used to her labia having such a draining task. And all this rush of fluid certainly did make Haumea rather sleepy. Once she arrived back at Nuumealani she would crash onto her bed and sleep for the gods’ know how long! Until then, her first project was finishing this urination. No matter how long she squatted, the goddess of childbirth’s labia continued to hiss out the yellow liquid. While the mainstream of pee came from her urethral opening, little dribbles of tinkle dripped from the areas surrounding said urine hole. Haumea’s soggy dress clung to her back as she lifted it above her downstairs area. Haumea looked down at her progress. Her bladder bulge was going down. All she could see was a colossal stream spewing from under her vulva which was as hairy as the forest. The goddess of childbirth looked to the heavens and breathed. Her urine continued to run. The sands below Haumea’s pointed feet had turned to mud and the goddess now had crunchy sand/mud climbing up her feet. The sand was now wet and hot. Haumea had been squatting for so long at this point that her lower half had fallen asleep. Her body was cramping from being so hunched over. Still, Haumea’s kava drinks were draining. While they emerged from Haumea’s pussy rather swiftly, there was far too much fluid in her giant goddess bladder to ever drain efficiently. After much time squatting and squirting behind the shelter of a shrub, Haumea decided that she had taken enough pressure off and she would be able to make it home before she gained a second wind. In fact, Haumea drained so much fluid that she could probably hold the rest for another couple of weeks if need be. Now that her urinary bladder had more room to fill back up, that is. Haumea closed down her pee hole, zipping up her sphincter muscles, and silencing the flow yet again. As Haumea stood and dropped her urine-stained dress, her legs wobbled after squatting in the sand for so long. After gushing like a geyser for several minutes, Haumea’s bladder - while still full - was much better than it had been. Haumea had a medium urge to micturate now and she could easily make it home to do so. Still having a half-filled up tank of urine, Haumea stepped around the bush and reached her boat, resting at the foot of the rainbow bridge. Right before Haumea could step inside, she heard a rustling. But this rustling sounded more like someone was crunching on sand. Looking forward, Haumea spotted two people - man and woman - crouching behind a very tall palm tree. The man’s head was placed over the woman’s and both stared at Haumea, peeking out from their cover of the palm tree. Haumea was never a goddess to run away from these types of problems. Instead, she placed her hands firmly on her hips and called, “Enjoy the show?” The two perverts slowly stepped out of hiding, realizing they were spotted. “Sorry, ma’am,” the woman apologized. “We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, honest. But we noticed how long you were peeing and…” “You decided to spy on me?” Haumea asked. “No, no! We were just impressed, that’s all,” the man insisted. “Humph,” Haumea scoffed. “Well, maybe you should think twice before snooping on a goddess’ private bathroom time.” The duo stood back, hands in front of them in self-defense. Even though she disguised it, Haumea took great satisfaction in watching the horrible realization sink into these two creeps. The woman began, “You’re a godde…” She didn’t have time to finish the question because with a single snap of her fingers, Haumea turned man and woman into twin breadfruit trees. As her sacred tree, it seemed appropriate. That out of the way, Haumea mounted her canoe and began to row her way up the rainbow bridge toward the godly heavens. Time to go home, finish relieving herself, and take that well-deserved nap. Even if Haumea lost her lovely singing blossom tree, at least she had the opportunity to take an otherworldly urination! A pee fit for the Hawaiian goddess of childbirth!
Even though I already did Athena, I really liked this idea, so I decided to try it out. This next story is a request, I hope it is enjoyable! And yes, I know Athena is a virgin goddess and would probably not act the way she does in this story. This entire series is basically just fan fiction, lol! Enjoy! 🙂 The war goddess’ head was held back, a large mug of mead clutched in her hand. The alcohol slid down Athena’s throat gulp after gulp. The goddess’ Adam’s apple twitched on her neck as the goddess swallowed down endless amounts of intoxicating beverage. Athena soon finished the goblet and set it down on the table. The goddess subconsciously crossed her legs under the table and with the back of her hand, she wiped the excess alcohol away from her upper lip. “Wow, Athena,” Hephestus said, “you sure know how to drink.” “I’m so proud,” joked Dionysus, god of alcohol. The Olympian gods sat around the table, dining on dinner and enjoying the peace and quiet of a relaxing Olympian supper. Zeus hid a mischievous smile behind his goblet. Athena avoided the supreme god’s gaze. Zeus thought he was clever, he thought he was cunning. Even a blind man such as Tiresious the prophet could see the lustful look in Zeus’ eyes. Zeus had no idea that Athena had seen him slip something devious into her drink. Of course, Athena drank it anyway. She couldn’t have confronted Zeus, she would have looked childish. Rather, Athena kept her pride and drank down the mead, filled to the brim with diuretics. Athena would compose herself and act civilized, showing Zeus that she was much stronger than he thought. As the other gods’ chatted, Athena’s mind wandered. If Zeus would do something like this to her favorite child - and he was not shy about declaring Athena as his favorite - Athena couldn’t imagine how Zeus must treat his many other children. The talking of the other gods’ was drowned out by the constant pang in Athena’s godly bladder. Athena had a strong urge to hold her goddesshood, just for a moment to fight back an upcoming wave. Those diuretics made Athena’s bladder walls tingle like crazy. Athena still had no regrets, she was glad she downed all of that mead. That would show Zeus how much she could take. Still, Athena began to bounce in her seat, her skin prickling with sweat. Athena’s gray eyes moved back and forth, desperately looking for a way out. Yet, she knew she couldn’t leave until the meal concluded. Athena’s prints were digging into her leather seat. The wisdom goddess’ humongous bladder was buzzing with pressure. Worse, Athena tried to recall the last time she visited the little goddess’ room. She and Nike (the victory goddess) had been so busy planning their upcoming battle, Athena has had very little time to take care of her biological needs. And now, with diuretics in place, the bladder of the wisdom goddess felt as if it was a mile underwater. The goddess squirmed and twitched, well aware that the lightning god was glaring at her with excitement. Zeus didn’t even notice the bits of goat meat falling into his beard. Artemis was drowning on, her voice directed to Athena about one of her hunts, but Athena was too distracted to listen. She instead rested her chin in her fist and stared at the exit of the godly dining hall. “Okay,” Hera sipped the last of her own mead. “I believe we have discussed all we need to discuss. Enjoy your evening everyone.” Athena leaped to her feet. Her bladder bounced in her abdomen. Athena could practically feel the ecstasy of relief. The goddess abandoned Artemis - who was still in the middle of her story - and charged down the hall. Athena pushed aside her fellow gods and goddesses, her bladder leading the way, closer and closer to relief. Zeus slowly stood, watching Athena flee from the hall. “Zeus,” Hera’s voice sounded tiny in Zeus’ ear. “I am proud of you. It has been a month since you have lusted after another woman. Not a long time, but I’ll take what I can get. Perhaps you are finally changing your…” “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Zeus brushed Hera away. “I’ll talk later, I have something important to do right now.” Zeus’ desire once again got the best of him. In a flash of lightning, Zeus vanished from the dining area and teleported to the bathroom. Athena threw open the door and slammed it behind her. She tossed her shield and spear to the floor, praying to the gods the restroom floor was freshly cleaned. The goddess danced in place, her hands fumbling over her war skirt. Athena felt the diuretics act like a time bomb in her already-filled bladder. She knew full well that her sphincter was ready to give. Skirt to her knees, Athena dropped down, her ass falling over the open toilet bowl. Athena’s bladder banged inside of her before giving in and spraying the inside of the bowl with yellow. Athena’s breathing was heavy as an all-powerful jet of liquid gold blasted between her legs, turning the inside of the bowl yellow. The pale gold stream hit the water, turning the toilet water frothy. Athena’s head slumped off to the side and crashed against the wall. Athena felt ringing in her war helmet from the impact - although it may have also been caused by the sheer relief of emptying a bursting bladder. Athena’s palm lightly landed on the slowly shrinking bump sticking from her toga. Athena closed her eyes and felt a tear of relief fill her closed eyelid. The goddess’ gray pupils turned foggy as she finally got the relief she had been hoping for for a long time now. Weeks worth of wine, mead, beer, nectar, and water all shot out at once, flooding the inside of the bowl. Athena had never felt anything so wonderful in all of her years. The piss lasted for minutes. Athena had no clue how long she sat there, but it was long enough for pins and needles to creep up her bare buttocks. Athena chewed her lower lip, feeling an orgasm coming on. As one of the virgin goddesses, Athena refuses to succumb to the temptations of Aphrodite and fall in love with a man. That being said, even the wisdom goddess has urges and must satisfy them. Unlike the other Olympians, however, she satisfies them on her own. Athena’s clit suddenly felt hard. She rested her arms on her knees and lowered her head, breathing a big sigh. Athena’s immortal body felt more relaxed than ever as she dribbled the final drops into the bowl. Athena wiped with a piece of old pottery and prepared to stand. Something stopped her, however. Athena’s wise brain was swimming in a sea of pleasure. She felt dizzy, but also deeply aroused. Athena looked around at the empty bathroom. There was no one here but the fly on the wall. With a grin, Athena lowered her hand into the toilet bowl and stretched out two fingers. As soon as Athena’s fingers jammed into her clitoris, the goddess bit back a series of satisfied curses. She twirled and twisted her erect clit, her excitement higher than ever. Athena began to moan. She ran her free hand over her labia lips and dug her fingers deep into her vaginal canal. The wisdom goddess threw her head back, pleasuring herself on the toilet which had the faint smell of pee. Athena was glad she was alone, it would be humiliating if someone saw her - one of the most proper goddesses - doing such an embarrassing act. Athena knew that this was a normal bodily urge, but - similar to urinating - that did not make the act any less uncomfortable to share. Athena began to spin her clit counterclockwise, slow at first, then faster, and faster, and faster. Athena bit her lip so hard, she drew golden ichor (the blood of the gods). Her eyes shut and her mind raced around and around. The orgasm came and Athena nearly shouted with gratification. The goddess then threw herself back onto the bowl, panting and drooling from her mouth. Her body lifted and lowered repeatedly. Her heart hammered and her intelligent gray eyes looked like pebbles by a river. As her breathing steadied, the goddess hummed to herself in joy. Nothing was better after a nice long pee than some masturbation. Nothing in the cosmos could ruin this moment. Athena’s fingers glistened with natural lubricant. Her belly looked normal again. Athena rested for a moment before preparing to rejoin the Greecian world again. Athena’s eyes located the small fruit fly again. The creature just remained seated on the wall. It appeared to be staring down at Athena. Come to think of it, Athena couldn’t recall that fly moving an inch since she entered the bathroom. Perhaps it was deceased. Athena stood, lifted her skirt, and picked up her shield and spear. The one try way to know if the fly still had life in it, was to force it to move. There was only one way Arthena could think to do that. Athena held up the shield, the aegis. Imprinted in the bronze of the shield was the frightening face of Medusa. After the hero Perseus killed the evil gorgon - with some help from Hermes and Athena - Perseus gave the head of the monster to the wisdom goddess. Athena placed the head on her shield and now used it to scare her enemies. She felt bad using it on the fly, but Athena was seriously concerned about the fly’s living status. It was unnatural for any fly to remain in one spot for the amount of time it took a desperate goddess to satisfy her urinary needs. Athena held the aegis to the fly’s face. She could practically see the reflection of Medusa’s face reflect off of the creature’s multi-lensed eyes. The fly leaped from the wall, but to Athena’s surprise, the fly didn’t buzz through the air, instead, it crashed to the floor in the form off… “Zeus?!?” Athena grunted with displeasure. Even the king of the gods was terrified of the hideous face of Medusa. The sky god shielded his eyes from the aegis, scooting himself back into the corner of the bathroom. It was unclear if he was now afraid of Medusa’s face, or of Athena’s hateful stare. The goddess backed Zeus into the corner, her eyes flaming with rage. “You were spying on me using the lavatory?” Athena growled. “You saw me urinate and masturbate…” Athena’s grip tightened on her spear. She was so angry, she dreamt of launching her spear at the disgusting all-father. “Athena, I apologize,” Zeus trembled. “I could not resist…” “You fed me diuretics, you spied on me relieving myself… in more ways than one!” Athena considered all of the ways she might attack Zeus. According to Gaia’s prophecy many years ago, Athena and Zeus were equal in power and strength. Athena was certain that she was one of the few immortal beings who could confront Zeus and live to tell the tall… If she wished to, that is. “What will you do?” Zeus demanded, his voice shaking ever so slightly, like the rumbling of thunder. Athena smirked. “I shall not do anything. I cannot imagine a punishment worse than telling your wife about this.” Zeus felt as though he would black out. He knew Hera would destroy him should this news reach her. “Athena, please,” Zeus murmured. “Let us discuss this…” Instead, Athena vanished from sight, leaving Zeus alone on the empty bathroom floor. Only seconds after, all of Mount Olympus trembled with Hera’s violent outcry. “ZEEEUUUUUUSS!!!!” Hera’s voice bellowed across the giant palace. Zeus swallowed. He was once again in the dog house.
There were several requests for more male omo. I decided to do the one, the only, Dionysus! The beloved wine god of Greek mythology! And he is joined with his pal and mentor, Silenus the satyr. (For those of you that don't know, satyrs are a race of mythical creatures in Greek mythology. They are human from the waist up and mountain goats from the waist down). Enjoy! 🙂 Also, I know in actual mythology, satyrs are the ones who are more devious, but again, this is basically fan fiction. I decided to make the nature spirits more frisky while Silenus is more civilized. Just my interpretation, obviously I know these stories are not one hundred percent accurate. WARNING... Because we are talking about goat men here, this story includes a little furry content. “Oh, for the gods’ sake, Dionysus, why did you let me drink all of that wine?” Silenus bleated. The satyr gripped his goathood and staggered over tree roots and thorny bushes. “Don’t give me that,” Dionysus had to stop for a moment to tighten his grip on his crotch. “You were enjoying guzzling that wine as much as I was.” “Whatever, I just really need to pee,” the satyr exhaled. “Me too,” the god of wine agreed. The sounds of Dionysus’ rocking party were still heard in the distance. There was the noise of nature spirits getting drunk and chasing each other around the pasture. As the god of diuretic beverages, Dionysus was well used to the feeling of an uncomfortably full bladder. But after having partied for a week straight with no breaks in between, Dionysus’ godly bladder threatened to blow all over the place. Dionysus had no idea how Silenus was holding up. Unlike him, Silenus was a satyr, so his bladder was much, much smaller than the gods. Silenus had tears in his eyes and his face was red. He was trembling from his horns down to his hooves. Dionysus felt bad for his friend and hoped beyond hope that they found a suitable place to alleviate their needs soon. Once the desperate duo were far enough from the party, they decided to let it squirt onto a fine oak tree. Dionysus quickly assumed a position in front of the bark, pulling his throbbing wiener from his purple robes. Silenus being a satyr - and thus half-goat from the waist down and half-human from the waist up - simply stretched his left shaggy goat leg high into the air, prepared to empty his wine onto the gorgeous oak. Before either man could spray his needs away, a female face appeared before the two. The face was carved from oak and rested on the front of the trunk, having appeared out of nowhere. “Hello, boys,” the oak said. Both Dionysus and Silenus jumped. The surprise almost made both men lose their pee. “I am a dryad, a nature spirit of the earth,” the face said. “This is my tree, it is my body. And you were going to relieve yourselves on it?” Dionysus and Silenus glared at one another, both boys hopping from foot to foot (or in Silenus’ case, hoof to hoof). “We,” Dionysus swallowed. “We are sorry ma’am, it is just that my companion and I really need to evacuate our bladders!” The face laughed. “Oh, I am not angry,” she said. “On the contrary, I would love it if two fine gentlemen used me as a makeshift toilet. Go ahead, boys, douse me with your yellow liquid!” The female face shut her eyes, eagerly awaiting Dionysus and Silenus’ bladder juice over her wooden skin. As desperately as they needed to go, Dionysus and Silenus quickly changed their minds about this spot and rushed off. The dryad opened her eyes again. “Wait,” she called. “Where are you going? Don’t you want to piddle on me?!?” The dryad sighed with disappointment, but she was not disappointed for long. A handsome male wandered through the woods, the Fates allowing him to stumble upon the dryad. “Hey, good looking,” the dryad called. “Want to relieve yourself on me?” Dionysus and Silenus each had a tight hold on their genitals as they stomped over the fallen leaves and twigs of the forest. “Note to self,” Silenus cried. “Don’t pee on trees!” “The weirdest part was that she wanted us to do it,” Dionysus pointed out. “Truthfully, I would have felt better off if she just got angry with us and chewed us out. Instead, she was encouraging us!” “Nature spirits are horny creatures,” Silenus muttered. “Satyrs included in that category. Now, Dionysus,” Silenus’ goat legs were twisted. “We must find a place to let go of our golden burdens!” Dionysus’ ear canal filled with the lovely sound of trickling and slashing of water. While his bladder rocked in a fetal position in his abdomen, the lord of wine actually felt hope. As he turned, he found a glorious crystal-clear lake. The waters shimmered from the afternoon sun and the peaceful waterfall added to the picturesque landscape. “Silenus, you thinking what I’m thinking?” Dionysus hunched over, holding his junk with both hands. “Let’s turn that water yellow,” Silenus skipped over the rocks and ran for the lake with Dionysus quickly following behind him. Both guys had bladders that were painfully bouncing around inside them. They each felt extra heavy as they were forced to lug around overly full urinary bladders. Silenus rested one hoof on a large boulder, twisting his body so that his goat penis faced the waters. Dionysus, meanwhile, simply removed his penis from his robes again. As Dionysus held his manhood, he felt the tip of it burn fire hot. His whole shaft ached with pressure, it was so uncomfortable and the god of wine knew he wouldn’t be able to stand the sensation much longer. Thank the gods they didn’t need to. Now that they reached the lake, it was pee time. The two readied themselves to spray. Silenus got only a dribble out and Dionysus hadn’t released a thing when several women - all of whom were sculpted from the waves of the lake - splashed to the surface of the pond. The women known as naiads examined the men. One of the naiads swam to the shore and rested her chin on the strip of land before her. From this angle, she had a perfect view of Dionysus’ ragging penis. “Look at this, ladies,” the naiad who was examining Dionysus’ tool smirked. “Two boys in need of relief. I think we can help them out, don’t you?” The gang of naiads jumped up and down in the water like dolphins skipping on the waves of the sea. The naiads all chanted: “Pee on me!” “No, pee on me!” “Give me a golden shower!” The uncomfortable sensation came back to both Dionysus and Silenus, although, at this point, the uncomfortable sensation was neck and neck with the discomfort they felt down below. Once again, the nature spirits requested golden showers from the god and his satyr friend. The naiad below Dionysus pulled herself up higher and stretched her open hand up towards Dionysus’ exposed phallus. Dionysus quickly pulled away, placing his penis back inside his robes. The naiad was only able to pluck off a single pubic hair from the god’s genitalia. The naiad looked at the curly hair in her watery fingers with dissatisfaction. “Come now,” she begged. “No one has peed in our pond for so long. Please, boys, help us water spirits out!” The entire group of water nymphs wore long pouty faces akin to dog’s when their owners left town. Coming to yet another silent agreement, Dionysus and Silenus packed it up and quickly stampeded away from the lake and the yelping naiads. Once the god and satyr were gone, two dashing men with strong upper bodies crossed the path of the lake filled with female water spirits. “Hey, boys,” the lead naiad did a backstroke in the lake. “By chance, do either one of you gents need a whiz?” Silenus stumbled and tripped over himself after every other step. His belly was bloated and his bladder bump reached so far, Silenus could see his own belly button. He made a fist and rammed it into his goat bits. The pressure in his bladder continued to battle the muscles of his sphincter. Silenus wanted to break down into a fit of tears. His bladder was decent-sized for a satyr, but satyrs reached their limits for faster than the divine gods. As he ran, Dionysus froze in place and turned around to see Silenus who was leaning against a very thin pine tree. Guilt washed over the god of wine. Dionysus remembered how satyr’s bladders have much smaller captivities than his godly one. No matter how much he drank, Silenus must be in double the pain and torment that he was. Dionysus retraced his steps and wrapped an arm around Silenus. With his knees jiggling, Dionysus helped tug Silenus along. Despite the overblown feeling inside his pee pocket, the god of celebration had to support his friend. Silenus’ goat hooves shuffled together, nearly causing him to fall again. Dionysus held the goat man upright and led him away from the trees and into a clearing. “I have to piss so bad, Dionysus,” Silenus whimpered, his hand permanently stuck to his groin. “I can’t take it much longer.” “I know,” the god of wine crossed his legs. “Let’s just go here.” Silenus glared around at the exposed clearing. “There is nothing to hide behind,” the desperate satyr danced around. “Exactly,” Dionysus spat. “No trees, no lakes, no nature spirits! We can pee here and no one will beg us for golden showers!” “I’m starting to think we should have just gone with the golden shower,” Silenus leaned on the strong god, his whole urinary tract exploding with pain. “What if someone sees us?” Silenus may be half-goat, but his logical human brain was more civilized and told him that he and Dionysus should seek out somewhere much more private for such an activity as urination. “No one is here,” Dionysus replied. “It is perfect!” Silenus made to argue, but a sudden wave of urgency nearly knocked him out. Gripping himself with one hand and leaning on the wine god with the other, Silenus scrunched his nose and tensed up his downstairs muscles. “Okay, fine,” the satyr stammered. “I just need to go…” Silenus threw a leg into the air while Dionysus again whipped out his shaking middle leg. Both males bounces and winced, desperation riding through them like hippocampi through the Mediterranean Sea. The two readied their man parts and began to leak. The grass received a few seconds of golden goodness from both god and satyr when they were again interrupted by more feminine voices. Both men cursed and were forced to put their organs away. Worse of all, each time the two had any shred of relief, it only increased their urgency to the max! A group of women lunged across the field and quickly surrounded Dionysus and Silenus like piranhas at feeding time. It was the Maenad, the devoted female followers of Dionysus. A dozen beautiful women gathered around the two men - both in states of bathroom emergency. “Lord Dionysus,” Beta, one of the Maenads yelled. “You left the party. We were looking for you!” “I’m fine, ladies,” Dionysus placed his dominant leg over the submissive one. His hands twitched, wanting to hold his dick, but he somehow restrained. “Silenus and I just needed to…” “Oh, for the love of the gods’,” Silenus was done being patient, he was ready to blow in more ways than one. “Will you people just let us PEEEEE!!!” Silenus did a desperate jig, holding and grabbing, crossing and squeezing. “All we want is to piddle! Is that so much to ask?” The angry satyr snapped. The Maenads frowned and spread looks of concern between one another. The loyal followers to the wine god watched both Dionysus and Silenus squirm and wiggle, urgency rising in each one. Beta faced her fellow Maenad. “Ladies,” she said. “You know what to do.” Without another word, the dozen women split off and formed a ring around Dionysus and Silenus. Each Maenad had her back to Dionysus and Silenus. “What are you girls doing?” Dionysus asked. “Giving you some privacy,” Beta replied without a head turn. “We shall cover you both. Don’t worry, we won’t look. Enjoy the pee.” Dionysus and Silenus stared into one another’s eyes. They couldn’t believe their luck. The kindhearted - and sometimes wild - Maenad women were shielding Dionysus and Silenus from public view. This was good enough for the two bursting men. Silenus again lifted a leg and Dionysus again took out his penis. Both were filled with wine, both needed relief from the pressure. Dionysus’ purple eyes were practically turning yellow at this point. Likewise, Silenus’ cock - which was buried in his goat fur - was constantly expelling droplets. Relief came and both felt loads better. Dionysus shot a powerful rocket of wee from the head of his willy while Silenus’ own parts released a torrent of yellow into the thirsty blades of grass. Silenus couldn’t help but moan out loud. Nothing felt better than a wondrous pee when you needed it. The satyr shut his eyes and imagined his urine levels going down. The inside of his satyr's bladder acted like a whirlpool. Urine swirled around before getting flooded through his urethra and landing into its new home of the woods. Dionysus huffed a big breath, his penis supported with both of his hands. The wine god aimed himself down at a certain patch of grass, allowing the earth to soak in all of his liquid that used to be wine. The bulging bladder of the god began to go down. The Maenads kept their promise of no wandering eyes. The woman all stared straight ahead without speaking or even moving. Other than the Maenad, Foxa scratching her nose at one point, you would have thought the Maenad were statues of Medusa. Dionysus had never been more grateful for his loyal female followers than he was at that moment. The followers of the wine god patiently waited for god and satyr to drain the main veins. No one said a word. The only sound heard through the whole forest was that of urine splashing against grass. Silenus soon dribbled his last drop and rested his hoof back onto the earth’s surface. The satyr was beat red and had sweat racing down his neck, but his bladder was no longer magnified through his skin. Silenus already looked healthier than he had mere moments before. Dionysus was impressed, though. He never expected a mortal (satyrs are included in this category because, unlike gods, satyrs can die) to pass a pee for this long. While Dionysus was still going strong, he was truly mesmerized by how long Silenus relieved himself for. “Feel better?” Dionysus asked his friend, concerned. Silenus gave a shaky nod, too weak to even speak. Dionysus turned his attention back to his firehose of genitals. While the god kept draining his wine, nothing else exciting happened. Apart from a curious dryad attempting to take a peek at the urinating god. “Back off,” Beta held up a tree branch she prepared to use as a weapon. “Let the wine god do his business in peace.” “But maybe I can just watch him go, just for a few seconds,” the dryad tapped her fingers together. All the Maenads had to do was scowl and the wise dryad knew these girls meant business and decided to leave the god of wine to his relief. After a long time, the god’s mighty bladder ran dry. He shook off his penis well, throwing the final drops into the lawn. “Thank you, ladies,” Dionysus again shuffled around, but this time, it was so he could hide his penis back inside his clothing. “I don’t know what we would have done without you.” The Maenads took this as their cue to look at the wine god again. “Anything for you, Lord Dionysus,” Beta gushed. “And you too, Silenus. I'm just glad you boys didn’t wet yourselves!” “It was close,” Silenus admitted. That got some giggles from the Maenads. “As the god of ecstasy, trust me,” Dionysus wiped the sweat from his forehead. “There is nothing better than a relieving pee after many barrels of alcohol.” “For the record,” one of the Maenads named Zina said as the crew began to walk back to Dionysus’ swinging celebration. “It was hard not to look at you guys. I’ve always been fascinated with how guys pee. I mean, I can’t pee like that! It’s kind of fun to watch how guys do it! But don’t worry, I didn’t look. I wanted to, but I didn’t.” Dionysus clapped Zina on the back. “Glad to hear it. Now, let’s head back. Now that our bladders are empty, I think we could refill them with more alcohol!” For Dionysus, the wine god, the alcohol never stops flowing! Edited August 12 by UrineLover1 (see edit history)
After they began their snacking, they talked a little and watched some television. It was 10:40 pm and Ginger felt a little tired. But the whole time they spent so far, Ginger was distracted elsewhere. She shifted in her seat and shook her right foot perched on top of her left leg. She often looked to her right hoping something would turn up. At one point, June asked if there was something Ginger wanted. Ginger, being polite and shy, responded passively so as not to ruin the evening. Nothing. It's nothing. I'm fine." Ginger seemed worried inside and she kept her left hand near her crotch. For what reason was beyond June. At 10:40 pm, June shut off the television, took Ginger's hand, and led her outside. Ginger was perplexed by this motion to the backyard. June smiled and asked "You ready for some ..... 'us' time?". The "us" was mentioned in air quotes. Ginger, scrunching her toes and keeping her right leg wrapped around the other leg, nervously replied with a smile. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?". June slowly approached Ginger, ever so gently sliding her arms around Ginger's waist into a hug. Ginger felt giddy and nervous as did June. June smiled back at Ginger who smiled back and giggled. After a few seconds of staring, June moved in closer ever so slowly so as not to scare Ginger. Ginger awaited June's kiss as she tilted her head. Then, it happened. First contact! Then it was done. And again, another kiss and another and another until they were making out. Ginger embraced her partner as well and while Ginger seemed a little stiff, June was kissing her repeatedly. They already talked about boundaries, such as no genital kissing and not all over the body. So everything was hashed out before making out. They did this before watching television too. Back to the making out. June was feeling a little more bold as she moved her hands all over Ginger's back side of her torso. Ginger moved a little bit but she seemed to bob up and down a little and had to stop kissing every so often. Then returned to kissing. She moved her right foot a little bit, sliding on the concrete ground of the patio tiles. June was lovingly kissing her partner on her lips, then moving to the cheek, and her neck. For a while, Ginger was enjoying the pleasant wave after wave of kisses on her neck. Ginger was still distracted by all this. May be she didn't want to do it anymore or was this uncomfortable, or may be something else. She began to rock back and forth while standing on her left leg perched vertically straight. Her right leg was more bent and not as much of her body weight put upon it. She whimpered a bit trying to enjoy the kissing but also distracted. Then suddenly, Ginger whimpered loudly. "Oh oh no ...". June looked a little worried and puzzled. "Is everything alright? Did I touch somewhere I wasn't supposed to?". Ginger didn't say anything for a few seconds before replying. "No no everytbing is fine. I just ... um ..." June had this cock-eyed look trying to understand. Ginger, it seemed didn't want to say what it was. Instead, she replied. "It's nothing. I just ... never knew how ... how exhilarating making out is. And with another girl. Wow whew." June didn't seem to understand and felt a worried. She didn't fully buy it. She noticed Ginger put her right leg behind and wrap around her left leg. "You sure everything's okay? If not please tell me." June said. Ginger felt a little bad and tried to work up the nerve to say it's alright. But she didn't feel alright nor did she want this to end for them. "Yup its all good.". Ginger embraced June and began kissing her. But Ginger felt anxious and breathed loudly. She fidegted with her legs and continued shift her weight from one leg to another. Sometimes, she stopped kissing only to say she just wanted to catch her breath. Then continued. June was becoming suspicious and Ginger could tell. After another 15 minutes, Ginger flinched upwards and everything stopped. Ginger passed it off as a bug crawling on her, making her feel a quick shiver. Ginger continued to kiss June who didn't seem interested. She wanted to stop this and just pack it in. Ginger didn't want June to angry and continued. Ginger could feel herself not right and as time passed (another 10 minutes), June could tell Ginger was perturbed about something. Ginger would bob up and down noticeably every 2 minutes. Her body was stiff and her legs double wrapped together. Her torso was bent and unable to stand straight up fully. June stopped and asked again. "Ginger do you really want to be with me? It seems you're not interested or just not into making out. May be I should have pushed you into this ... Ginger?" She noticed her friend stood staring at her with wide eyes and serious expression while trying to smile weirdly and blushing big time. June looked on nervously. Ginger quickly embraced her partner and said it was nothing. Ginger began kissing June on the neck. June tried to remove speak asking Ginger to hold on for a minute. Then ....... it happened. June heard what appeared to be a splattering noise. Ginger kissed June directly trying to keep her gaze on Ginger herself. For a whole thirty seconds, Ginger kept June's focus on her while June was trying to let go of Ginger. But Ginger didn't want her June to see what was going. After it was done, Ginger let June go, still blushing. June looked at Ginger. She inspected her lower legs and feet which felt a warm liquid splatter onto them. Ginger didn't want to day as she held her left arm with her right one. "Ginger what's up with you tonight. Please just tell me." Ginger slowed directed her eyes at June, then spoke in a very soft mousy tone. "I didn't want to say anything to ruin out night. But on the way home until now, this very moment, I really really really had to pee and I just .... I just ......" but she didn't want to say. June looked awkward and looked both ways before she replied "You just what?". Ginger didn't want to say anything as it would be too embarrassing. THEEEEENNNNN June understood what just happened. Her eyes widened as she took a step back. Ginger looked ashamed and sorrowful. June had this annoyed and sort of grossed out look on her face. Then it switched to a face that asked 'Really?'. Ginger stretched her lips while simultaneously pressing them together. June spoke. " If you had to pee you should have done so. I would've been fine with it." Ginger had this stupefied look on her face that said 'I know'. There was silence in the air before June walked back inside. She turned around and called out. "Dont just stand there. Come inside. Oh and I have some plastic bags for you." Ginger came to the entrance and took the bags to out underneath her feet. They went upstairs. Once there, June offered Ginger the shower which she said wasn't any trouble. Ginger ger undressed and put her dirty clothes with the shoes in one of the plastic bags. Her clean clothes unaffected were put on the back of the door hook. Just as Ginger was going to enter the shower, June called out to her. Ginger turned around to see her partner all natural. "Do you mind of we pick up where we left off? I promise no sex. Just kissing. Ginger thought about it for a moment, then said she would rather just take the shower alone. May be afterwards they could make out some more. June didn't have an issue and waited for her in her bedroom. And with her clothes on.
I've had this fantasy in my head for a long time. Excited to finally attempt to bring it into reality! Hope you enjoy 😉 - Milo Four Desperate Passengers, and a Fern by Milo Snatch Chapter 1 April really did not plan this well. She was sitting on her boyfriend’s lap, squeezed between boxes and bins of their things piled to the roof in the backseat of his college roommate’s Subaru. “Fuck!” The former roommate, Nova, yelled, laying hard on the horn, their blue and purple cropped sparkly hair whirling in frustration and a flush rising across pale, freckled cheeks, their black band t-shirt and grey sweats clinging to their skin on the hot LA summer day. Even their feet were sweating in their black sneakers. “Love,” said a deep, soft voice from the front passenger seat, “They all heard you the first, second, fifth time. This isn’t making the traffic move any faster.” “Yeah, yeah, I know babe” Nova sighed, leaning their head back and resting a hand on Milo’s thick bare thigh. His choice in dark green shorts and a white and green patterned button down shirt and comfortable sandals was enviable in the heat. “Makes me feel better for a bit, though.” “That makes one of us. Hey—“ Milo turned around, adjusting the large potted fern between his thighs and peering back at the pair stacked in the backseat, his warm brown eyes under loose black curls meeting April’s gaze, a hint of dark facial hair adoring his upper lip and side burns. “Do either of you see my bag back there? I have some earplugs that would be really handy right about now.” April did, in fact, see Milo’s bag, slumped unceremoniously behind his seat in the floorboard. “Uh, yeah, I see it,” she said, and paused, clenching her fists. “….could you hand it to me?” Milo asked, confusion washing across his face as he noticed April’s tense demeanor. “I can’t,” came a muffled sound from behind her, and half of Harper’s clean shaven, tanned face appeared around April’s shoulder. His blue eyed expression had his usual goofy grin on it underneath long sea salt covered dirty blond hair. A true lean Californian surfer boy in khaki shorts, blue tank top and flip flops. “Little stuck back here.” “Hardy har. Or should I say, Harpy har,” Milo chuckled at his own joke. Nova groaned in response which only made Milo giggle harder. “I can, yeah, I can get your bag,” April finally responded. She steeled her jaw and began bending over at the waist, her and Harper’s shared seatbelt digging into her lower abdomen along with the waist of her tight dark jean shorts. Her chest and belly stretched the fabric of her light purple t-shirt from a local LGBTQ charity event she’d volunteered at, and Harper couldn’t help but admire his gorgeous girlfriend from such a tantalizing angle, her buzzed brunette hair and long gold chain earrings glinting in the summer sunlight, juicy thighs spilling over his lap. Whimpering softly, she extended her hand past her grey sneakers and grasped for the bag, missing it the first two times and, huffing, made one final lunge, grabbing a handful of the tan canvas fabric. She froze in place, a look of horror on her face. “Whoa, April, you ok??” Milo asked, concerned, still twisted around in his seat. “You don’t look so good.” “I—“ she began softly, looking down as she slowly righted herself, a deep pink blush rising from her chest to her forehead. She held the bag out to Milo without looking up, and mumbled something so softly no one could hear the words over the cacophony of random car horns chorusing around them. “Sorry?” Milo asked. “I HAVE TO PEE!” April bellowed, finally looking up to meet Milo’s surprised gaze. She felt Harper stiffen beneath her. “I’ve had to pee since we left but I thought it’d be a short drive and we’re already behind schedule and you both have been so nice I didn’t want to waste more time, but then we hit traffic and then it got worse, and we three—“ she gestured to herself, Harper and Milo”—had all those terrible IPAs while we were packing, and when I reached for your bag a little came out and now I’m about to piss on my boyfriend in the back seat of a someone’s car who I just met today and I’m… so…. SORRY!!” she wailed, tossing the bag at Milo and covering her teary eyed face in her hands. The car fell silent, the only sounds being April crying quietly and the ever present heavy traffic noises outside. Harper wrapped his arms around April and hugged her tenderly, kissing the back of her neck. “Well, guess I’m not the only one then,” Nova said finally, laughing wryly and running a hand through their hair. April looked up, sniffling, her honey brown eyes meeting their green ones in the mirror. “Look, I know we just met, but things happen,” Nova continued, expression softening. “If you need to piss in my car then you need to piss in my car. It’s not ideal, but also, you know, crying and being in pain isn’t ideal either. Worse, really.” Nova moved one hand down over their sweatpants and grabbed themself firmly, wiggling in their seat. They looked over to Milo and said “Sorry I’ve been such a pain with the horn. I’ve had to piss so bad and sitting here isn’t making it any easier. Thanks to April’s honestly at least I can hold myself now, shit.” They scrunched up their forehead in concentration and stared ahead, rocking gently in their seat. Milo reached over and rubbed Nova’s arm gently. “Spiro?” He asked, dryly. “The one and only. Bitch,” Nova huffed, squeezing themself tighter. “If I may,” Harper’s muffled voice spoke up from the back. “My camping gear is in one of these boxes. I’m pretty sure my bear canister is in there and it’s 5 liters. Could be a useful solution?” He gently squeezed April’s shoulders in encouragement. “Also? I’m gonna need to pee soon as well. Damn IPAs.” “Make that four of us, then,” Milo sighed from the front seat, tensing his thighs as far together as he could given the fern between them. “Also, what’s a bear canister?” “Large heavy-duty plastic container to seal food and toiletries and anything a bear would want to eat inside while you’re backpacking,” Harper replied happily. “And waterproof. Which is helpful for us now, but in reverse!” April’s tears had slowed down and as she rubbed her face with the back of her hand she started giggling quietly, which quickly caught on with the other three as they all began laughing at how ridiculous their situation was. “How did we do this so badly?” Nova cackled, grimacing as laughter jostled their bladder. “Four people desperate to pee, stuck in traffic for an hour and half, pinned in by the contents of an apartment with the best hope to fucking piss in a bear canister and hope no one around us looks over at the exact worst time.” Milo was giggling uncontrollably into the leaves of the fern, Harper and April collapsed together in the back, April’s hands now firmly gripping herself over her shorts to prevent more leaks as they all laughed and laughed. “Thanks, y’all,” April finally said with a sigh when they began calming down. “I’m still very embarrassed but feeling better I’m not alon—“ She gasped quickly and sat upright. Harper felt a small moment of warmth on his right thigh, and his dick twitched in response. He hated seeing his girl in pain and discomfort, but something about this situation was turning him on. Focus, dude, he thought, Not the time! But he couldn’t help feeling pinned down in the most delicious way, stuck between two piles of boxes and his writhing girlfriend on his lap, gasping and moaning with the fear of letting go all over him, warmth seeping into his shorts and the cushion below. He shook his head quickly and rubbed her back. “Ok, time to find that canister,” he said, looking around at the box labels. April just whimpered in response and held herself as tight as she could. Milo and Harper quickly stopped laughing, looks of concern on their faces at their new friend’s predicament, the air around the group sobering up just like the passengers with those IPAs long in the past. The reality of their situation was starting to creep in. If they didn’t find a viable option soon things were about to get very wet. “Ah ha!” Harper said, pointing to the second box down on his right side with the word GEAR written on it. “There’s my camping supplies. Ok, how to get it out….?” April turned her head and started calculating how this was going to go. Her face paled. “I’m going to have to move these boxes around, aren’t I,” she said quietly. “Are there no other options? Any water bottles available? I’ll take anything!” “No, none of us brought any water or drinks,” Milo said sadly. “Could you hop out and move them maybe?” April asked him, but Nova was already shaking their head and answered, “Nope, this traffic is too touch and go and I’m in the left most lane, we can’t be sure if we’d stay still long enough to sort through your stuff without causing more of a ruckus. I don’t want to deal with angry drivers as four queer people today, especially with two of us being trans. Even in LA.” “Yeah, you’re right,” April agreed, and groaned as she felt how heavy her bladder was pressing downward. “Ok! I can do this. I have to do this. Harp? You need to hold me while I’m looking otherwise I’m going to go, I’m so close.” Harper quickly assisted, moving his hands over hers and pressing into her vulva. She moved her hands away and turned quickly to pick up the first box on her right. As she exerted herself, though, another spurt found its way out of her, warming Harper’s hand. “No!” April gasped, “Baby, you gotta hold me harder, zip down my shorts! Now!” He quickly did as he was told, unbuttoning the jean shorts pulled tight against her extended abdomen and zipping her luscious belly free. Another stream escaped just as Harper pressed his fingers to the outside of her black underwear, shivering slightly at how warm and wet it felt as her hot pee ran over his fingers. His dick was definitely getting hard now. He hoped she wouldn’t notice. April was mortified… and horny as fuck. She could feel Harp’s fingers pressed to her pussy lips, just below her throbbing clit, and it felt electric to realize how little control she had over her body right now, how wrong it felt to piss on her lover’s hand, and how much she’d actually love nothing more than to let go and flood her clothes and his lap. But this wasn’t her car and she didn’t want to impose any more on Nova and Milo after all they had done to help them move. So she braced herself and picked up the top box once again, saying “Milo, can you hold this please?” and handed it to him. He twisted around and looked like he was concentrating hard to grab the box with his legs wide open. “Yep, no problem,” he said with a strained voice. “I’m hurrying!” April said and quickly moved back and ripped open the top of the camping gear box. Thank god we didn’t use tape, she thought as she rifled through the contents and found what she was looking for: A large 5L heavy blue plastic cylinder with a wide mouth covered by a flat twist lid. “Got it!” The others cheered as she closed the gear box up and received the other one back from Milo to toss on top. She almost didn’t care that she leaked again, the longer spurt spilling over Harper’s fingers and soaking through to her boyfriend’s khaki shorts below, because she was about to finally let it all go. “Alright, Harp, let’s trade,” she said quickly, moving her hands to her sopping wet crotch. As Harper’s hands left her pussy, though, a strong jet of pee shot out of her tired body before she could place her own hands there, spurting through her clenched fingers and pooling in his lap. “NO!” She moaned, trying to stop the flow. “Masturbate!” Milo commanded suddenly, eyes wide as he watched the piss flowing through April's fingers, unabashed in his gaze. They were all well past being embarrassed in this intimate space together, unified in their shared desperation. “It’ll help you hold!” “Don’t mind if I do,” Nova moaned from the driver’s seat and they started rhythmically rubbing the firm mound between their legs. April quickly started swirling her middle finger over her clit, a thin layer of soaked underwear the only thing between them, as more liquid thundered its way out of her. “Hearing her piss is making this so much harder for me to stay dry.” “It’s working!” April gasped as her stream finally slowed and stopped. “How did you know it would?” Nova and Milo exchanged wry, knowing grimaces. “I hold often out in public,” Milo finally said, “Especially if I forget my piss dick at home. Not being able to stand to pee in men’s bathrooms makes me feel really exposed, I don’t always present as cis and someone could get suspicious of me in a stall.” He watched April’s head tilt back and a flush flood her face that had nothing to do with embarrassment. He tried squeezing his legs together again and groaned in frustration at the potted plant between them that was preventing him relief. His hand found its way down to his dick and he started palming himself, slowly, over his shorts. “I, uh, am also into piss play, so desperation is often my goal.” “I can see why,” April sighed happily, continuing to swirl her finger around and around her clit. She felt full and about to burst again but touching herself was keeping it at bay. “Sorry about the mess, Harp.” “Don’t you dare say sorry,” Harper growled from beneath her, grinding his stiff cock into her ass, one hand slick with her fluids holding on to the empty bear canister. April gasped in delight. “This is so hot, holy fuck.” His lap was sopping wet from April’s shower, it had flooded over and run down the outside of his thighs into the seat below. He felt so degraded to be pissed on, helpless, not able to move out of the way. He wanted more. The invisible wall they hadn’t realized they were approaching was finally upon them. Two couples, writhing in desperation together in a car, were touching and grinding and moaning in a growing wave of passion and pleasure. They could either stop now and just focus on relieving themselves and laugh about it as platonic friends later, or they could all push through the wall and see where the path led to on the other side. Everyone’s heart was racing at the possibilities before them. Nova and Milo locked eyes and grinned wildly, and April turned her head to witness the lust in Harper’s piercing blue eyes. “You ok with where this is going?” Harper whispered, and April nodded YES vigorously. “You?” She responded breathlessly as she continued to stroke herself, the soft sopping sound audible to everyone in the car. In answer, Harper raised his voice and said “Nova, Milo… wanna get freaky?” “I thought you’d never ask, hon,” Nova said with a wicked grin, putting the car in park and feeling grateful the traffic was stopped for now, their pace increasing as they touched themself and Milo moaned in agreement, sticking his hand down his shorts and underwear to stroke his dick directly with two fingers, one on either side, and let a thin trickle of pee escape and soak into his dry—for now—boxers.
This one was very hot to write. I've been sitting on a towel and slowly and lazily leaking into it while typing the next chapter for these four kinky friends. There are explicit sex scenes and some light elements of BDSM power dynamics which I will list below. Read on if you wish, and enjoy! - Milo Content description: cisgender genital sex Transfemme and transmasc non-op genital sexual scenes orgasm control/denial sexual degradation/humiliation (aka being used as a toilet) peeing inside of someone during sex Chapter 2 Four passengers—two former college roommates Harper and Nova and their respective partners April and Milo—were jammed into a packed Subaru at a standstill in LA summer traffic. They all were desperately touching themselves to hold in their urgent needs to pee, the best hope being a shared plastic bear canister to collectively relieve themselves into. And they were loving every second of it. “I can’t hold this in much longer,” April moaned, rubbing her small, swollen clit frantically over her black wet panties she’d already leaked heavily through, her sopping wet ass grinding into the equally drenched lap of her boyfriend below. “Let’s do this, baby,” Harper gasped as April ground over and over onto his long, rock hard dick. He unscrewed the cap of the blue 5L hard plastic container and started to help her pull her panties and dark denim shorts down. “This is so hot, fuck,” Milo panted from the front passenger seat, his hand down his cotton green shorts stroking his fat dick with two fingers. He leaned over to lock lips with Nova, both of them groaning into each other’s mouths. Milo purposefully let go and spurted into his boxers again, whimpering, his legs held wide open by the large potted fern between them. “You leaking over there?” Nova whispered, pulling away to look lustfully into his eyes. “Y-yes,” Milo gasped. “Good boy.” Milo blushed deep red and whimpered, wishing his head was between Nova’s legs. “Ok I’m ready!” April said quickly from behind them. She and Harper had pulled her panties and shorts halfway down her thighs and her bare pussy was hovering above his lap as she raised herself up, one hand bracing against the back of Nova’s seat and the other continuing to work circles over her clit, small leaks of piss splattering onto the outline of Harper’s cock. Harper moved the canister underneath her. Nova and Milo both turned and stared in lurid anticipation. “GO!” Harper commanded. She didn’t wait a second longer. Hot piss erupted out of April’s pussy, splashing into the empty vessel. Her hand stopped working her clit as she let out an involuntary long sigh, eyes closed, mouth open, tongue out, face flushed with pure relief. Harper felt her liquid heat hit the base of the container pressed against his lap, the sides of the clear blue plastic beginning to fog from the hot, golden deluge. He felt the vibrations of the torrent as he held it, delight in his face at witnessing his girlfriend release herself fully on top of him. There was nothing he could do about it being wedged between boxes of their apartment in the backseat of this car. He loved this feeling of being pinned down and used. He felt pre-cum leak into his piss soaked boxers just thinking about his inability to move out of the way, that he had to take it, had to watch his cock stiffen while April pissed forcefully between his excited and shaking hands. Nova and Milo stared openly in delight, too, their hands working themselves harder at witnessing this erotic spectacle unfold. The car fell into rapt silence except for the shhhhhhhhhh of April’s piss frothing in the canister, her whimpers of relief, and the soft sounds of the three witnesses grinding and caressing themselves in response. HONK HOOOOOOONK Everyone jumped. “SHIT,” Nova gasped. They looked down to see a small wet patch appear on the grey fabric of their sweatpants. Milo stared in abject lust at his datemate starting to lose control. They lurched to put the car back in drive and moved forward, closing the large gap that had formed while everyone’s attention was in the backseat. “Ahhh!” Milo looked back in time to see April swaying off-balance as the car moved, piss still streaming out of her. It sloshed over the sides and spilled down over Harper’s hands as he tried to keep up with her pussy moving this way and that. He didn’t seem to mind, though, an expression of horny delight beaming across his face at this unexpected mini-game. “How,” Milo said in awe. “How is this actually happening.” “I’m almost done, yessss,” April crooned, her stream finally slowing. “Good!” Nova gasped, looking down in time to see a small, clear fountain rush out of their sweats before they clamped a hand back to hold in the rest. “I’m next.” “Want any assistance?” Milo asked, breathlessly. “Yes.” Nova twisted their legs together and held themself tighter, teeth clenched. “I need to drive.” “Fuuuuuuuck,” Milo panted, his wet front hole leaking juices into his boxers. “DONE!” April leaned forward after her last spurts concluded and Harper moved the canister out from underneath her. She fell back onto his soaked lap in utter relief. Harper looked in awe at how much had come out of his girl. Probably close to 1L total if including the rest on his lap and the seat beneath him. God I love curvy girls, he thought, Big girl, big bladder! “Hand it up here! PLEASE!” Nova begged. April grabbed the container of her hot piss from Harper and passed it up to Milo’s waiting hands. As she sank back down on top of her boyfriend she turned her head and said softly but firmly, “I want you inside me. Now.” Harper released himself from his shorts in a flash and April sank her big, wet, juicy pussy down on his desperate cock. “Fuuuuuuck yesssssss,” she moaned, grabbing her tits with piss soaked hands. “The cisses are straight up fucking in your back sea—,” Milo giggled, turning his attention to Nova and stopping instantly once he saw what was happening. A dark grey patch was growing bigger and bigger on Nova’s lap, spreading over their thighs. They looked stricken, staring ahead with both hands on the wheel as they continued to drive through the stop and go traffic. “Milo, pleaaaaaase,” they begged, looking over with panicked eyes. “Grab me and point me in that fucking canister.” Milo immediately fumbled with Nova’s waistbands, pulling out their long, half-hard leaking member. He pinched the tip which helped Nova stop the flow momentarily. He tried his best to direct them into the canister held in his other hand, but the steering wheel was preventing him from putting the large vessel below them completely, forcing him to settle with parting Nova’s thigh and placing it in between them. Nova huffed, frustrated. “I just want to let it all out, aahhhhh it’s so hard not too!” “Just go,” Milo said soothingly. “It’ll get all over my steering wheel! And, dials! And dashboard and shit!” “You’re gonna have to get this car deep cleaned anyway, what harm could some additional piss do at this point?” Another leak escaped past Milo’s pinched fingers. “Mmmmm FINE, let me go, let me go NOW,” Nova whined. Milo let go. A spluttering fountain of piss erupted out of Nova, shooting past the canister and onto the steering wheel. They watched in awe as liquid started pooling in the ledge below the dials and running down the front of the wheel, drops springing off and peppering both of their white knuckled hands and flowing down to patter quietly onto their shins below. “Arrggghhh I can’t stop!!” Milo adjusted the spray so piss started splashing into the canister. Mostly. A lot was also splattering onto their thighs and seat and dripping down Milo’s hand. But Nova finally physically relaxed for the first time in the past couple of hours, the arc strengthening as they gave in to the experience. “Ahhh I can’t stop,” they purred, head tilting back as far as they could while still keeping an eye on the road, relief dripping from their voice like honey. The canister volume rose higher, Nova’s urine mixing with April’s in the shared temporary toilet. Milo was beside himself, gripping Nova with one hand and furiously rubbing his dick with the other. He let out strong spurts while watching Nova’s fountain, cupping his hand to receive his liquid and then pressing its heat against him, again and again. He slipped a wet finger into his front hole and palmed his dick, grinding into his piss and sex soaked hand. He was getting closer and closer to coming with every moment. The car came to a halt again and Nova looked blissfully over, panting and reveling at Milo staring at them, knowing what it was doing to their shy, piss-loving boyfriend. A devilish grin crept over them as they saw Milo’s shorts darkening with every thrust into his hand, his new voice cracking all over the place with each desperate pant. Nova’s pee was slowing, no longer able to reach past the lip of the container. They didn’t care anymore. It felt too GOOD to stop. The weakened stream flowed out of them, dribbling down their boyfriend’s hands clasped around their quickly stiffening self and soaking into their underwear and pants and seat below. “That’s enough,” Nova commanded, watching Milo bucking closer and closer to another kind of relief. Milo couldn’t help but keep grinding, so close, so close!! “I said enough,” Nova snarled, reaching over and pulling Milo’s hand out of his shorts. “You finish when I say so.” Milo just writhed in his seat, trying yet again to press his thighs together and failing, groaning, too much enjoyment at being denied keeping him from fully vocalizing his pleasure. Nova purred, “Good boy. You’ll get to cum soon, don’t you worry.” A deep voice erupted from the backseat. “Don’t stop! Yes! YES! AHHH!!” April had been taking Harper’s slick dick the entire time she watched Nova’s predicament, ecstatic relief and Milo’s horny responses, twiddling her clit while witnessing such a profoundly taboo and erotic sight unfold. It felt incredible. But apparently even more so for the twitching Harper beneath her, his full bladder being pounded incessantly by her ass as April moved up and down on his cock for her pleasure. He could’t take another second longer before exploding inside her and yelling out, convulsing again and again as his hot cum spurted into her pussy. “GOD, baby, you feel so GOOD!” “Couldn’t help yourself, could you?” April crooned, turning her flushed face back and grinning at Harper, gasping, behind her. “Absolutely not,” he sighed, weakly, leaning his sweaty forehead on her back, his dick softening inside of her. “Mmmmmf I kind of had to pee before but now I really have to after you bounced all over my bladder. FUCK that felt so good. I had no idea it could feel that good.” “You’re next, then,” Nova commanded from the front seat, grabbing the canister and handing it back to April. They continued to slowly leak the rest of their piss as they started grinding into Milo’s hand, quickly becoming harder and harder with each thrust. “Milo needs to learn some patience. No more holding yourself, ok, little boy?” “Mmmhmm,” Milo hummed in agreement and bit his lip, watching Nova use their hand for their pleasure, rocking his own hips to the same rhythm and finding no purchase, his other hand clenched tight on his dampened thigh. April looked at the steaming canister in her hands, the pungency and naughtiness of what they all were doing very apparent in its contents. They still had a good 3.5L of space to fill after Nova’s messy fountain barely fell into it, but it was going to be awkward for Harper to use it successfully given their seating predicament. Her pussy clenched around his softening dick still inside her at the thought of watching her boyfriend try and fail to accurately pee into it. She felt a sudden flush of warmth deep within her. “Mmmmmm,” Harper sighed, resting against her. “Looks like I couldn’t wait.” “Oh fuck, oh FUCK,” April gasped, quickly returning her fingers to her clit and coming hard at the surprise of Harper pissing involuntarily inside of her pussy. His warmth continued to spurt sporadically, stop and go as he adjusted to this new experience and she clenched around him, his piss, cum and her sex seeping out of her and spreading over his slick lap as her orgasm wracked over her body in waves. “My car is getting absolutely wrecked,” Nova sighed, eyeing the couple from the rearview mirror as juices soaked further into their backseat cushion, some flowing down to the floorboard below. “Ah shit, sorry,” Harper grunted, clenching and stemming his flow as April gasped once more and collapsed on top of him for the second time today. “No, no need to apologize,” Nova chuckled. “It’s already wrecked, might as well enjoy it. Ahh—“ they gasped as Milo rubbed a slick finger over their tip, their humping increasing in response. “Time for you to piss for us, Harper.” “Happy to,” he sighed and yawned, post-cum sleepiness already claiming him. “And time for you to start holding until you can’t anymore,” Nova purred at their kinky piss-boy boyfriend. Milo met their gaze, an excited flush creeping up his neck as his dick twitched at the thought. He nodded in quick agreement, already feeling his bladder filling more and more as they both looked back in anticipation of their friend—or maybe now more than a friend?—soon adding his piss to April and Nova’s, the four of them feeling closer to each other than ever before while desperately trapped in traffic.
Hello again! I've returned with another installment for these four kinky friends. I can't guarantee a certain frequency that I'll be able to write, so be sure to follow the thread to be notified when I do post chapters. Thanks for your kind comments, and enjoy! ❤️ Milo Sexual + BDSM content description: Transfemme non-op genital sexual scene orgasm control/denial bathroom control/denial sexual degradation/humiliation Chapter 3 Harper peed lazily, sighing blissfully, as his girlfriend hovered over his lap and pointed his dick into a tilted bear canister in the back of his college roommate’s car. “It feels so good to finally let go,” he sighed, eyes closed and a happy grin on his lips. “It feels so good to watch you go,” April said, relishing in feeling her boyfriend’s piss move through his cock in her hand. “Agreed,” Milo sighed from the front seat. “Oh, ah, looks like it’s going to overflow—?” The canister, tilted to receive Harper’s stream as he sat in the middle of the backseat, could no longer hold April, Nova, and now Harper’s piss in such a position and began overflowing down the side, soaking in to the carpeted floor mats. “It’s fine,” Nova said, watching the scene in the mirror from the driver’s seat, “We can piss all over the car at this point, I’ll get it deep cleaned regardless. This is LA, I'm sure we’re not the only freaks doing kinky shit in cars out here. Oh!” The stop and go traffic they’d been sitting in for over 30 minutes was finally starting to clear and Nova could increase their speed and get everyone to Harper and April’s new place, the original goal of this entire trip. “Looks like I need to start actually driving again, babe,” they said, looking over the Milo and then down to their lap where he was still pumping them, hand slick with Nova’s piss and pre-cum. “Pause this til later?” “For sure,” Milo sighed, returning his hands to his lap. He felt a twinge in his still desperate bladder which wasn’t being helped by the sound of Harper’s stream trickling into the canister and onto the floor. He huffed at the potted fern still between his thighs. “You and this fern really have a tumultuous relationship,” Nova chuckled, putting the blinker on and finally bringing the car off the highway. “It makes it so much harder to hold,” Milo whined. “I’m at a 6 right now but it feels like an 8 because I can’t close my goddamn legs.” “Tsk tsk… such an attitude,” Nova scolded. “Don’t blame the plant because you were so greedy earlier, you brought this on yourself. What did I tell you this morning?” Milo blushed and looked out the passenger window. “….Milo? What did I tell you.” “That I could only come today if you were the one to do it.” “That's right. So this naughty boy is going to be played with for much longer to teach him a lesson before that becomes a reality,” they said firmly. “Is that clear?” “Yes, Mx,” Milo crooned, shivers running up and down his spine at their game. He looked back and caught Nova’s eyes. The two exchanged wicked grins. He loved handing over bathroom and orgasm control to Nova. They took such good care of him and gave what both of them knew he really wanted: Utterly depraved servitude. “Y’all are cute,” April said, grinning, finally putting the lid back on the canister, Harper’s dick having finished his piss and been stowed back in his pants. “Perverted. And cute.” “That’s the dream,” Nova responded cheerily. “And here’s another dream come true: We’re here!!” The car stopped at the curb and the four of them looked out. A stepping stone path led around a building through fine gravel, down an alleyway, and to an iron gate door. The top of a roof peaked out above it. There was a moment’s pause when the reality of their situation settled back in. “Oh. Right. We’re all covered in pee,” April said matter of factly, hearing her and Harper’s shorts squelching as she readjusted on his lap. “There is that,” Nova chuckled, which made Milo giggle, and once Milo starts giggling his laugh infects everyone around him, and once again the friends were guffawing together in the car at the predicament they’d put themselves in. “This is wild, Nov,” Harper said from the backseat as the laughter started quieting down. “Thanks for being such a good sport about it all.” “Ahh it’s no problem,’ Nova sighed, wiping tears from their eyes. “You’re just cashing in on all the late nights you helped my drunk ass out back in the dorm.” “Ohhh right!! Like that one time you were so wasted and tired you just peed all over your bed—“ “MILO HOW ‘BOUT YOU GO CHECK IT OUT,” Nova interjected loudly, but not before Milo raised an eyebrow at them. They huffed loudly. “Sure, yeah, fine, I purposefully wet the bed once, whoop dee doo, now get your currently piss soaked ass out of here and see if anyone’s around so we can get inside.” “I need to hear this story sometime,” Milo said eagerly, accepting the key April handed him and unbuckling his seatbelt. “Be a good boy and you’ll get that and more,” Nova winked. Blushing happily, Milo opened the car door and wiggling his way out around the fern, finally able to bring his thighs together as he stood upright. Too bad gravity also acted on him standing up and tugged his bladder down, bending him over with a groan at the wave of desperation that hit him. April gasped from the car as the three of them watched him bend over and regain composure. “Oh noooo, his shorts are soaked! They’re so noticeable! Should we tell him?!” Nova chuckled. “He already knows and loves it, the little slut. He’ll be more than ok. But thanks for thinking of that.” Milo did indeed know, and did indeed love it. He straightened up and began walking, the movement helping him settle into his desperation level of a comfortable 7. He could feel how wet his shorts were, which gave him an electric thrill that someone looking at a window nearby could notice. But he didn’t spot anyone doing just that as he walked to the gate and unlocked it. He entered a cute courtyard, the paving stones weaving through grass now to a short set of stairs leading to a covered porch. The placement of the courtyard and the tall plants and landscaping, in addition to the surrounding house’s walls and their lack of courtyard facing windows, made this place intimate and private. He walked up the stairs, unlocked the door, and stepped inside. A small, quaint home greeted him: hardwood floors and a tiled kitchen, light green stucco walls, bright windows, 2 bedrooms, 1 bath, and April and Harper’s sparse furniture and belongings brought on previous trips they’d made with other friends haphazardly strewn about. Milo grabbed his phone out of his pocket and texted the group chat, absentmindedly palming his dick over his shorts and shivering at how damp and cold they felt: Milo no people around, all clear - cute house! Harper sick! thanks man, on our way The other three friends shuffled quickly to the house, some of their clothes still wet enough to leave droplets of piss on the stepping stones, and only when everyone was inside was there a collective sigh of relief. “YES! We made it!” April cheered. “Whew! Alright. Harp and I have some stuff here so let’s see what we’ve got to make us more comfortable…” The next couple of hours were filled with happy conversation and refreshening of bodies. Everyone took a shower and finally got dry, and some clothes were lended to Nova and Milo as everyone’s piss soaked outfits were churning in the washing machine: Nova was given a black pair of sweatpants, black sports bra, and white t-shirt, and Milo a pair of blue jeans and a black tank. April put on a purple and gold flower muumuu, and Harper threw on basically the same outfit of khaki shorts but a green tank this time. Final items were brought in from the car, the windows of which were cracked open to let fresh air in to hopefully start drying things off. At one point, April brought the sloshing bear canister in and was making her way to the toilet to dispose of their piss when Nova stopped her in the hallway and said “Oh I’ve got that.” April thanked them and left, but instead of pouring it down the toilet, they went outside and tucked it away under the porch. “Just in case,” they chuckled, walking back inside. After all the tasks had been completed, and once sushi and beer were delivered in celebration, the four found themselves outside sitting in a circle on the grass, eating, drinking, laughing, and watching the sky turn gold to orange to red as the evening crept further along into night. It was at this point that Milo, having been fidgeting for the past half hour, stood up quickly and clutched his hands to his crotch, face contorting in that sweet combination of pleasure and pain. “Mx! PLEASE. I don’t know how much longer I can hold it. Oh FUCK I’ve never had to go this bad before, mmmmm, I might start leaking soon, oh my god, oh my GOD. I must be close to a 10 now, mmf, please please please can I please pee…??!” He stood there, panting, bent over, pleading eyes seeking Nova’s to know what his fate would be. An electric silence fell over the group. Milo continued bouncing and bobbing in the stillness, time slowing, everyone pausing to consider what would happen next, stealing glances at the other’s faces. It was one thing to be randomly forced into a desperate predicament in a car, the tension building and a “Well, fuck it, let’s just let go and enjoy the experience” energy bringing the two couples together into a shared sexual encounter. But to choose it? To choose to go back to that place when there wasn’t a practical need to? Milo could go inside right now and use the toilet to relieve himself. They weren’t trapped in a car anymore. If they all chose to indulge in piss play, together, AGAIN…. What would that mean? How much further would they go together? Where could this end up? Nova clear their throat. “Harp, April…. Look, I don’t really know where this might go, but…. I do know it was so much fucking fun to do what we all did earlier today. So… would you maybe want to… continue?” Harper and April looked at each other, checking in. “I had a lot of fun,” April whispered. “You?” “Yeah… yeah I really did,” Harper whispered back. He turned back to the other couple and raised his voice. “We both really enjoyed that, too! Umm, but… I do have, um, just some questions? To sort out before we do anything more than we did earlier? Just like, feeling safe and supported all that, you know?” “Oh, absolutely!” Nova responded happily. Milo whimpered again and dug his hands further into his crotch. “Ah, yes, how about this,” Nova said quickly after glancing back at Milo, “We only go as far as we already have for now, and then when things are not quite so… urgent, we can discuss limits and boundaries? What do you think?” Harper physically relaxed, smiling again. “Sounds great! So me and April can touch and fuck and, well, piss on each other if we want…” he trailed off in a happy haze for a moment before snapping back to the present. “And you two can touch and fuck and piss on each other, and we can all watch this happening, but we won’t cross any of those lines between the couples until we’ve talked about it?” “Sounds great to me!” April exclaimed happily. “Same!” Nova responded. “And I know Milo’s limits and can vouch that he’s good with that for now, too. Right, babe?” Milo just stood there, nodding furiously, sweat beading on his forehead. “Yes, yes, I am so ok with you watching me desperate, mmmm it turns me on so much. Harp, I don’t want to piss in your jeans without your permission but that might imminently happen, is that ok??” “Uh yea— YES, that’s ok with me,” Harper said, swallowing, his throat suddenly dry and his dick twitching at the thought. “Very good with me if that ha- happens.” “Oh, is that going to happen, little boy?” Nova crooned, shifting their energy back to their whimpering, desperate boyfriend about to completely flood his jeans. “Are you going to piss yourself in front of us like the horny piss-slut you are?” Milo’s mouth opened in a silent, pleasurable scream. He didn’t make a sound as a sudden dark jet of hot piss burst from his crotch and soaked into the left thigh. Harper and April both gasped in awe and delight at the show. “What a naughty boy, pissing in Harper’s jeans. Get over here, now.” Nova stood up and gestured for Milo to kneel in front of them. He quickly did as he was told, gripping his groin to stem the flow and stop more pee from spurting out. “You’re going to finish what you started this morning,” Nova whispered, pulling their quickly hardening self out of their pants and immediately putting it in Milo’s mouth. “And if you can hold the rest of your piss until I cum in that pretty mouth of yours, you can cum today, too. But if not…?” They twisted their fingers into the back of Milo’s hair and started fucking his mouth. “You’ll be my orgasm-less toilet until tomorrow. Do you agree to these conditions?” Milo could finally speak again and groaned in immense pleasure. “I need to see your non-verbal consent, slut,” Nova growled, their pleasure rising quickly, Harper and April starting to stroke each other through their clothes, watching the show unfold. Milo’s eyes widened, but he knew better than to disobey Mx. Nova. He also knew he was set up to fail, that the only option was for him to be Nova’s toilet the rest of the evening, but he didn’t care. All he needed to do was piss, and piss NOW. He’d been holding it all afternoon and it was all he could think about anymore. He had to let go. He had to flood himself in front of Nova and Harper and April. He craved being a piss slut. He had to pee all over himself. He had to he had to he had to he— He pulled his hands away from his crotch and made rock and roll horns with both hands—the agreed upon silly but effective non-verbal consent sign between the two of them—and immediately started pissing full force into his pants, his eyes fully rolling back into his head and arms falling limp by his sides, muffled moans of pleasure not escaping his mouth due to Nova fucking it harder and harder with each thrust. “That’s RIGHT, my slut, piss yourself, fucking piss yourself, oh FUCK, I can feel it spreading to me feet, I’m going to— I’m coming I’m—AHHHHH!!!!” Nova thrust once more into Milo’s mouth, shuddering, then pulled back and collapsed onto the ground. Milo still knelt on his knees, swallowing, flow uninterrupted, hissing into Harper’s jeans, completely drenching himself and the ground around him. The jeans were soaked down the front and back of both thighs, and along the front of his calves. The puddle spread further and further and started to soak into Nova’s sweats where they lay, panting, but they could care less even though these were April’s pants getting soaked. After a long, long time, Milo’s stream slowed. The glistening liquid came only in spurts down his thighs. And then, finally, it stopped. “Fuuuuuuuuuuck,” April said, breaking the quiet. “Agreed,” Nova spoke to the sky, still laying on their back in Milo’s puddle. “Wow,” Harper whispered, dick tenting out his shorts. Milo just sat back on his heels, utterly spent, pure bliss spread across his face. “Well, then,” April said, glancing mischievously over at Harper. “Shall we continue?”
Hi everyone. I go by Vai, I'm a long time lurker that finally decided to try his hand at writing myself. I am currently in the process of writing a non-omo related full-length novel, but I have hit my first big "writer's block" moment, and I thought I could distract myself a little by writing a shorter story about something else, so here I am. This is my first ever attempt at something like this, plus English is not my main language, so apologies in advance for any mistakes you might encounter during your read. Criticism is always appreciated. The story's very loosely based on real people (with the names changed), and is in two parts; the second and final one is almost finished, and I'll be tweaking it based on the feedback I get on this one and post it shortly after. Lastly, I think this one turned out to be a little too slow-paced, with about first half of the first chapter serving mostly as an introduction and world-building. Feel free to skip ahead to around the second half, if you feel like it. Enjoy. Chapter one: Four Minutes Hi. My name's Ocean. Yeah, it's my real name. Yeaaah, I know, it's an unusual name, please save any name puns you have that you might think are original (trust me, I've heard it all) until the end of the story. Thank you. I'm an average 24 year old guy, and I would like to tell you about a series of events I've been through recently that I think most people here might enjoy hearing about, so here goes. As long as I've known myself, I've had this strange dilemma of always asking to help people around me, yet never actually wanting to help. Let me explain. Back in college, I would hear groups of classmates huff and puff about their upcoming math exam, grab them on their arms, shove them into an empty classroom and proceed to spend hours lecturing until each and every one of them felt satisfied. Even though that would leave me very tired, with a sore throat from talking too much and an hour max to study for my physics exam the same day (and that's being generous, if I wanted to also get more than a few hours of sleep myself). I was one of the fortunate few among my peers to be able to afford a car of their own right after I turned eighteen and got my driving license. The next week, I was on the road to a muddy forest in the middle of god knows where, for a barbecue with friends, with a whopping seven of them stuffed in my humble 5-person-capacity vehicle (a dude even was riding in the trunk, for fuck’s sake). I just HAD to offer to lecture those friends at school. I HAD to offer to drive everyone there myself, I guess. Long story short, my life has been, and still is, filled with this irresistible desire to help everyone, yet not willing to do what’s necessary to help them, YET helping them anyway. About a month ago, I got a new job. Nothing special; average workload, decent pay. Good chance to get back on my feet after a few months of unemployment. On my first day, I’ve made myself a promise to try not to be the yes-man that I always was. I would do only what my job description required from me. No “helping people” anymore. It worked well. I could do things at my own pace, avoid overloading on work and burning myself out. This decision somewhat carried over to my personal life as well; I would offer less “unnecessary” help to people, and would go on to find a good and healthy balance between not being an asshole to people in need of my help but offering my support to anyone that needed it, without putting myself in too much trouble in return. Little did I know at the time that a random resurfacing of this habit of mine would soon lead to a rather, well, interesting series of events. I have mentioned before that my workload at the job isn’t too crazy yet, since I am still new and learning the ropes. This gives me enough free time to have a chat with everyone in their free time and to get to know them a little better. One colleague I’ve had the chance to chit chat was a woman in their mid-fourties, named Anya from the accounting department. Her room was one floor above mine, but she would often come downstairs to the smoking area directly in front of my room, where I also would frequent. Over the course of a few weeks, I’ve gotten to know Anya a little better, despite our conversations almost never going deeper than surface level small talk. She was a single mother of one, divorced a few years ago, living with her 12 year old son. She was one of these people who would appear very cold at first glance, but was actually really sweet underneath. But I digress. I had also noticed despite almost all of my colleagues driving to and from work by car, she would use the bus instead, although the nearest bus station to work was at least a fifteen to twenty minute walk. Combined with the typical dry and cold weather of my city, I simply couldn’t imagine how troublesome it must have been for her. But as you would imagine, I couldn’t just ask her why she didn’t have a car, without sounding rude or awkward. During another one of our little chats in the smoking area, Anya got a phone call. She took a few steps away before answering it and I turned my head the other way and pretended not to listen in to give her some space, but I did not move away myself, since the smoking area was rather small. I did not specifically try to, but I could still hear bits and pieces of her conversation. It seemed rather serious. After she was done talking, I asked her if everything was alright. She told me it was her son’s teacher calling to let her know their school bus driver had been on a small car accident and would not be able to work today, so the parents would have to come pick their kids up from school themselves. For Anya, who, for whatever reason, did not have a car, that would mean an even longer bus ride , even more walking in the cold and even more wait time for her son. Being me, I of course thought of offering to give her a ride from work to school and back to their house, but I realised soon after that her place was practically on the opposite side of the city, and combined with the heavy after-work traffic, it would mean spending almost my entire evening on the road. Oh, did I mention it was MY BIRTHDAY TODAY? Did I have any plans for it tonight? No. I would spend it as if it was any other evening after work, just chilling at home by myself. But the alternative, the “cost” of helping Anya would be a birthday wasted being a personal driver for a colleague I barely knew for a few weeks. I couldn’t help it. I could have just held my tongue. I could have said “Hey Anya, I would love to take you there but it’s my birthday today and my friends are waiting for me after work. Sorry”. She didn’t even ask for my help in the first place, I could have not even mentioned it. But I did. Old habits die hard, I suppose. I put on my best concerned impression and asked Anya: “Hey, would you like me to drive you there after work? My place is not too far from there anyway,” That was a lie. My place WAS far from there. “No, Ocean, it’s fine, really, I'll just take the bus as usual,” she replied. Now, one advantage of being a people-pleaser for so long is that you get really really good at telling whether someone is rejecting help because they don’t need it or if they are just too nice to accept. Anya was doing a great job at sounding sincere, but an eye contact lasting a fraction of a second more than it should have gave it away for me. She clearly could use someone to drive her there and back. I pushed a little more. “Please, Anya, really, it’s no problem for me.” “Alright,” she finally gave in, with the subtlest hint of relief, signaled to me by the ever so slight relaxation of her shoulders that would go unnoticed by most, but not by me. Again, courtesy of having seen this scene countless times in my years of helping people. “Here, have a cigarette on me in return,” she handed her pack to me with the sweetest smile on her face. “Let me get you a refill on your coffee, too,” she grabbed both my cup and hers (which I just now noticed to be significantly larger than our company’s standard 180 ml paper cups), before heading towards the kitchen. I lit up the cigarette I got from Anya, took a big breath and leaned on a wall nearby and started waiting. As I did, I noticed something strange. Strange, not because it was happening now, but because it hadn’t happened until now. I have been single for a few years now, therefore thinking of a person I newly met in a sexual way at least once is pretty standard for me, especially if I found them at least decently attractive. But for some reason, I had never seen Anya that way. As she walked towards the kitchen with her back turned to me, for the first time since I met her, I caught myself eyeing her. Not like a momentary glance, but more like looking up and down her body for a good few seconds, observing every detail on her figure, as if I would be tasked with painting a picture of her from memory within a time limit or something. She was... cute. Trust me, however much I tried, I could not find another word that described her better. Attractive didn’t quite fit. Sexy..? No, not quite. She was just... really... fucking... cute. I just sat there and got hypnotised in the rhythm of her slim hips sway slightly from side to side with each step. She had a pair of skinny dark blue jeans that complimented her slender legs beautifully. Now that I think about it, he almost always wore some variation of jeans or pants that seemed almost a little too skinny for her (which was an achievement, since she already had a very slim figure). Her straight, medium-length brown hair brushed up against the back of her black leather jacket as a gentle but sharp gust of winter wind passed us by, causing her to quicken her steps and me to jolt out of the train of thoughts. I decided to go use the men’s room as I waited for her to get back, since we would most likely have a long drive ahead of us with the possibility of traffic. My cigarette was still unfinished, but I went in anyway after a quick glance to make sure nobody else was inside. Eh, only ten minutes left until the end of the shift, who cares. I quickly finished my business and returned to the smoking area. A minute later, I saw Anya come out of the kitchen with my regular-sized and her much bigger cup filled. She handed mine to me as we both finished our coffees and cigarettes. Despite hers being almost triple in size compared to mine, I couldn’t help but notice we were both done with our drinks at around the same time. She must really like coffee, I thought. Our chatting was soon interrupted by another coworker of ours, a young girl named Marla from quality control department, the rooms next to mine. She waved us a little goodbye before rather hurriedly making her way towards the ladies room. Only after that did I have the sense to finally look at the time on my phone, and was subsequently horrified by the fact that it was 6:04 p.m., a whopping four minutes past the end of work. Four minutes may not seem like a great deal of time (ask the ladies), but in an area all surrounded by office workers that leave work at 6:00 p.m. sharp, it was the difference between a smooth fifteen minute drive home and an agonisingly boring hour on traffic surrounded by nothing but cars for kilometers on end. “Oh no,” I showed Anya the clock on my phone screen, before quickly entering my office to pack up. I told Anya to meet me next to my car, and hurry, before she nodded and ran upstairs to pack up her own stuff. I could not, however, help but notice her make a brief pause in front of the ladies room and glance at the door for a second or so as she (rather reluctantly) decided to run past it and hurried towards the stairs. As you could probably imagine, this little scene intrigued me quite a bit; but I didn’t think too much of it. I only hoped she wouldn’t come to regret that last big cup of coffee. Boy oh boy, was I in for a ride. After I picked up all my stuff, I ran downstairs to the parking lot where I saw Anya standing with her legs crossed next to my car, shivering slightly as the cold sharp winds continued. I quickened my steps, as I was getting rather cold myself, as I politely apologised for the wait before we quickly hopped in the car and I started driving as fast as I could, hoping to beat a few people to the inevitable traffic jam that we both knew was to come. Anya seemed rather distracted as she did her seatbelt. I presumed she was anxious about making her son wait in the cold, so I tried to ease the mood a little. “Don’t worry Anya, I’ll get you there as soon as possible,” I reassured her. “Besides, I bet the little guy's having a blast having some extra time to play with his friends. Hey, he might even be glad we’ll be late; who wouldn’t enjoy being in school with all your buddies but not having to do any actual studying, right?” I chuckled. “I guess you’re right” she answered with a nervous smile. Following the GPS on my phone, I made a right turn towards the main road, and was subsequently greeted by a sea of tail lights spanning across miles down the road, with seemingly no end. “Oh boy,” I gestured at the massive traffic jam forming in front of us. “Guess we’re in for a long ride, literally.” I gave another chuckle at the product of my own stupid unnecessary sense of humor aimed at easing the situation, which at least got another nervous smile out of her. “Maybe you could give the teacher a call and ask how the kids are doing? You could let them know we might be a little late too. Maybe talk to your son, tell him not to worry and we would be there as fast as we can?” I started presenting options. “I guess I should do that,” said Anya as she pulled out her phone and dialed back the number that called her earlier. The teacher assured her the kids were fine, quite happy in fact, that they’ve finally had a few hours to play around with no classes to interrupt them, before he gave the phone to Anya’s son who quickly said hi to mum and even sounded like he couldn’t wait to get back to playing with his classmates. “See? Nothing to worry about,” I gave her a warm smile. Anya returned it shortly after with the same slight nervousness that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. She shifted around in her seat for a moment, before crossing one leg over another and rested her hands in her lap. At that point, the part of my brain that had a bit more of a, for lack of a better term, perverted look on things had started to slowly take over. Now, I don’t like fantasising about people I know. I never did. Both in the context of more vanilla sexual acts, and especially on this kink of mine. I will leave the discussion of “Is it wrong to fantasise about someone you know personally, since you do not know if they would consent to it?” debate up to the reader, but either way, I just couldn’t help the thought of “What if she has to pee?” from popping up in my mind. She probably just doesn’t like traffic jams, nothing unusual. Either way, she was definitely quieter than usual, and I decided not to push her. I put my gaze back on the road, as she silently stared out the window into the inching traffic jam. I usually like silence. I truly believe the so called “awkward silence” moments are only as awkward as you make them to be. But after twenty minutes of traffic that seemingly had no end, even I felt somewhat obligated to strike up a conversation, or at least find something to pass the time for both myself and Anya. Before I could say anything, though, Anya (rather suddenly) turned to me and asked, with the same nervous tone still present in her voice: “Hey, Ocean, umm... how much longer do you think we’ll be?” I took my eyes off the road for the moment and looked towards her, while preparing more reassuring words to tell, when I realised Anya was now sitting very tensely in her seat. Her legs were now double-crossed, her posture was a lot stiffer. Her hands were also grabbing tightly at the sides of the car seat. Alarm bells started ringing in that part of my mind once again. Okay, she could just be cold. I kept brushing it off. I took a glance at the GPS on my phone screen. “The app says we should be there in about fourty-five minutes, including traffic,” I answered. Anya let out a slight groan, before shifting in her seat once again and buried her butt a little deeper into the seat. “Yeah, but umm... the app could be wrong, right..?” Not impossible, but very unlikely. “The traffic could clear up any moment, no..?” I wouldn’t count on it. “Well, these apps are usually pretty accurate, but we need to wait and see,” a deep sigh escaped Anya’s lips, before another (longer) shuffle in her seat. This time, she also uncrossed and recrossed her legs, with the other one on top this time, but just as tightly as before, if not more. Oh boy. I could not convince myself otherwise any longer. She had to pee. Don’t ask her. “Hey, Anya...” I continued. Please don’t. “Is something the matter? You seem a little distracted...” Dammit. You just could not resist, could you? “No, I'm alright, really,” that sounded more like an attempt by Anya to comfort herself instead of being directed at me. “I think I’m just a little cold...” Sure, just cold. “I’ll turn the AC up a bit,” I answered, all the while trying to contain that part of my brain that grew increasingly more excited every time I took a glance at Anya’s remarkable efforts to contain the contents of her bladder. I noticed her breathing getting ever so slightly shakier as she mumbled “Thanks,” followed by another deep sigh. Not even a minute later, before the AC even began heating up the car, Anya reached out to undo her seatbelt and took off her coat, as if she wasn’t the one complaining about being cold a moment ago. Must be real exhausting to keep all that coffee in there. Okay, and? She just needs to use the restroom, so what? Could happen to anyone. I wonder if she will ever admit to her need... Why does that matter? Maybe it gets bad enough that she would have to hold her crotch in front of you. That’s a perfectly natural response. God forbid, she could even have an accident right here, sitting next to you. Shut up. Admit it, you’re enjoying this. I was. I really was enjoying watching a grown woman’s silent (so far) but fierce battle against the call of nature. But I would certainly do my best to get her to a ladies’ room as quickly as I possibly could. I am NOT a pervert. “Mind if I put some music on?” I decided she could probably use a distraction from her growing need. “Not at all.” She put her best effort to sound like she was okay, but I could really tell it was getting rather serious now. “Anything you prefer?” “Not really.” She’s got something much more important on her mind right now, you idiot. I put on some generic chill playlist that I did not even recognise the names of the songs in, and directed my attention on the road ahead, to get there as quickly as possible. My random choice of a playlist happened to be quite enjoyable, as I rather quickly got lost in the relaxing melodies seamlessly playing back to back, and within a minute or so, I did not even mind the traffic anymore. I wasn’t looking at the time, but based on the number of songs played, it must have been ten or fifteen minutes when I got snapped out of my musical journey, by Anya’s now VERY concerned sounding voice. “Ocean...” she gushed, her breath now getting noticeably shakier. “How much time..?” “We’re almost there, I would say about half an hour or so,” I replied, with the usual smile. Anya now had her legs uncrossed, and instead had her hands on her inner thighs, gripping them tightly every few seconds or so. I also noticed her tapping her foot whenever she saw I was not looking, trying to be as quiet with it as possible. Fuck. “Are you umm... are you sure you’re okay Anya?” I asked her, trying to sound as sympathetic as humanly possible. “Do you... need anything..?” Come on. Come on. Come on. Say it. At this point, I should probably specify that despite this stream of perverted thoughts floating in the back of my mind, I was rather hoping she would in fact admit to the emergency of her predicament; not because of what you think, but because if she knew that knew, she wouldn’t have to hide it anymore, and therefore maybe could use more... ahem... effective methods to hold it in, which I hoped would give her a little more relief until we get to our destination. You want to see her squirm around in that tiny seat? Hold her crotch? Maybe even both? Yes. I MEAN NO. Well, yes, but actually no. Now, the funny thing about someone admitting (or not admitting) their need to pee is that there’s a somewhat gamble-y side to it. The longer you deny it, the more embarrassing it becomes to come clean once you can’t hide it any longer. You know, you would be asked “Why didn’t you say anything before..?” I was guessing Anya would be in a similar predicament by now, as I could see her clearly debate about it for a few seconds. “I umm...” Anya now sounded clearly in distress as she blushed visibly. “I... I need to use the restroom...” Chapter two coming soon
Here's the second and final chapter for now; contains a lot more desperation. I might continue this story based on the feedback or I could move onto others, we'll see. Enjoy. Chapter Two: Best Birthday Present Ever There it is. Those words were the last straw for me. My heart started racing as I could feel the beginnings an erection forming on my crotch. I took my eyes off the road for a moment to look at her, as she still put on a great deal of struggle to hide her constant fidgeting, but it seemed like sitting still was no longer an option for her. Her butt was now wiggling constantly, and she had her hands rubbing around on her now uncrossed legs; stopping by on her inner thighs every few seconds to give them a tight squeeze, inching closer to her crotch every time they do so. “Okay, behave,” I thought to myself. The last thing I wanted to happen in this situation was for me to get overly excited and lose track of what had now become the number one priority: Getting Anya to a bathroom before the inevitable happens. “Oh... umm...” I mumbled as I tried my best to look surprised. “Are you uh... are you gonna be alright..?” It was a delicate balance; trying to sound concerned enough to not make it look like I didn’t care at all, but not so much that I would come off as implying she wouldn’t be able to control it and wet herself. But I think I did okay. “Maybe that last cup of coffee was a bad idea...” Anya commented as she let out a very slight moan. “I’ll be fine, Ocean, don’t worry.” I don’t think she herself believed in those words, as much as she tried to sound calm and confident. It, again, sounded more like she was trying to reassure herself that an adult woman her age would not, could not wet herself like a little girl, ESPECIALLY not in front of a coworker she barely knew (who was also doing her a big favour). “Would you like me to stop at a gas station or something..?” I asked her, seeing the closest one would still be further away than our destination on my GPS right after I did. Anya did not even think before answering. “Yeah... that would be great – aah,” she let another moan escape her, as she clenched her thighs as tightly as possible for a good few seconds, before resuming her wiggling and fidgeting, getting ever so slightly more obvious with every passing minute. “Don’t worry, Anya,” I tried my best to reassure her. “I’ll get you to a bathroom as fast as I can.” Though with the traffic jam ahead of us not looking like it would end anytime soon, I was worried my best might just not be enough. Anya went back to her efforts of holding, and I went back to my efforts of trying to contain my excitement (along with the hard-on that was now visibly poking from under my jeans). I tried turning my attention to the traffic ahead; and thus, silence filled up the car once again, save for Anya’s now increasingly more frequent “ooh”s and “aah” s, and the constant sound of her jeans rubbing against the car seat as she squirmed erratically. Not even five minutes later, this silence would once again be broken by Anya. “Ocean... –ooh... how much more time...?” she practically whispered. “Is there any way you could –aah... go any faster..? –nngh...” She was almost pleading. Aaahhh, those moans; music to my ears... “Umm...” I was also starting to panic, as I had never been in a situation like this myself. I didn’t know what to say or do, really. “Another twenty-five minutes, it says–” “I’m sorry...” Anya blushed as she took one hand off her thighs and tightly grabbed her crotch with it, continuing to squirm as she did. She was constantly wiggling her butt up and down and to the sides now, trying to get her hand on a position to prevent her pee from coming out, all the while looking at me in the eyes to see my reaction to her visible embarrassment. I am also embarrassed to admit that that scene fucking did it for me. I legitimately thought my erection could cut diamonds at this point, my heart kept racing. Still, I somehow forced myself to calm down. “It’s fine, Anya; please do whatever makes you comfortable,” I smiled. “Pretend I’m not here.” “Oohhh– okay...” And therefore, her race against the call of nature continued. Another ten minutes or so –which I’m sure must have felt like an eternity for her– later, Anya broke her silence once again. “Ocean –oooh god– is there... is there any way you could... you could pull over –aah somewhere..?” She now sounded absolutely frantic. She now had both her hands firmly glued to her crotch, trying desperately to aid her tired sphincter muscles that were on the verge of giving up. She could not stop bobbing– hell, bouncing up and down on the car seat, so much so that I’m sure the car was visibly shaking from outside. “There’s nowhere to pull over, Anya,” I tried to explain, trying to control my own shaking (for an entirely different reason) voice. “I’ll try my best to find a pocket on the side of the road, but I don’t think I could do much right now without illegally wrecking the traffic...” I answered calmly. I don’t think I’ve ever had another moment where I was feeling two complete opposite emotions both so strongly at the same time. Part of me was feeling horrible for her, and would do anything to get Anya the relief she so desperately needed; but the other part of me was dying to see her fail to do so. Hell, that part did not even care that she would absolutely ruin my car seat. It just wanted to see her lose the battle. “Please hurry, PLEASE!” Anya was on the verge of crying after another agonising five minutes. Her desperation had reached levels she never knew was possible. With one quick motion, she removed one hand away from her crotch, the other still gripping so tightly you could see the veins on it, and unbuttoned her jeans and zipper. She gave me another quick look, her embarrassment also going through the roof; but she did not care anymore. All that was on her mind was to not pee herself. All she could think was keeping the contents of her bladder inside. One second at a time. As she undid her zipper, you could clearly see part of her underwear now; a plain, white pair of panties with a cute little pink bow ribbon in the front of the waistline, right on top of her bulging bladder. I almost, ALMOST let out the biggest laugh at the irony of the situation. Remember, I had rather unwillingly decided to spend my birthday night locked in an inching traffic jam with someone I barely knew, instead of potentially with family and friends. And now, as if the universe had somehow acknowledged my good actions, it decided to send me Anya with a bladder full to the brim, wrapped in her gorgeously hot body, AND IT EVEN HAD A CUTE LITTLE BOW RIBBON ON IT, LIKE A LITERAL FUCKING BIRTHDAY GIFT. But it was about to get better. “Uuuu– sorry again–” Anya cried out, as she lifted up the front of her underwear with one hand, before very quickly removing her other hand from her jeans and sticking both of them under her panties directly over her peehole, pressing on it with all her remaining strength. I shit you not, I felt like my cock was going to fucking explode right then and there. “Hang in there, Anya,” I could also not control my excitement any longer. “It says the traffic ends in ten minutes, I will pull over at the first bathroom on sight, I promise.” It really didn’t seem like she could physically focus on anything I said. “No, I can’t–” Anya gasped. “You have to pull over now...” Her entire lower body was now moving like crazy. She was crossing and uncrossing her legs as forcefully as the tiny car seat allowed them to. “Anya, I really wish I could, but we’re barely moving right now, and umm–“ “Please –aaaah” Anya let out a tiny scream as she suddenly looked down at her crotch for a second before turning back to me. “Anya, did you just...” I did not wait for her to answer. It was clear a few drops had just escaped her aching peehole, and the rest was mere seconds away from exploding. I had to do something. “Wait here, Anya,” I told her, before stopping the engine and turning on the hazard lights. “Anya, hold it for thirty more seconds,” That came out more like an order. I stepped off the car and opened the trunk. After a few seconds of frantic searching, I found what I was looking for. A 750-mililiter plastic bottle half full of light blue colored wiper fluid. I did not hesitate for one moment. I opened the bottle, and emptied out the contents on the road below and ran back inside. As soon as I got back on my seat to hand the empty bottle to Anya, I saw her lose any and all control. “I'm sorry, I can’t–” She let out another tiny scream as her tired sphincter muscles completely gave in. She lifted her butt as high as possible from the car seat, in a half-squatting position, and with the loudest hissing sound I’ve ever heard, she peed full force through her jeans and panties for a full second or so, before she could pull them down to her thighs, and I heard the stream of Anya’s crystal clear urine forcefully hitting the seat. I don't honestly know how I could still think at that point (it felt scientifically impossible to have had enough blood for my brain, considering how much of it was rushing into my erection), but I managed to reach under Anya's butt with the bottle in my hand and just barely managed to catch the waterfall gushing out of her. We just sat there in the same position for a full minute as I watched Anya experience bliss in its purest form; only other sounds we could hear besides her massive stream being the occasional car horn, Anya’s heavy breaths and her deep sighs of relief. It took us both a moment to process the events of the past few minutes. As Anya’s relief (and my excitement) slowly died down, I realised we were still stopped abruptly in the middle of the traffic. I quickly put the cap back on the bottle, careful not to spill its contents (which I have not fully succeeded, as it was filled to the brim with Anya’s warm pee) and put it on the drink holder. We continued on our journey in silence for a minute or two. As I noticed the traffic jam start to dissipate, Anya was the one to break the silence. “Ocean, I’m so sorry...” she sobbed, her face still blushed. “Look, Anya...” I had the sweetest tone imaginable in my voice. “It’s alright, really. It’s just a small accident, it could happen to anyone.” I reassured. She seemed a little more relaxed, but she still seemed on the verge of tears. “I’m so embarrassed, I don’t know... I...” I gently touched her arm in a comforting way and prepared more supportive words, but as I did, she noticed the few drops of that familiar clear yellowish liquid still dripping from my hand. Okay, well, maybe my aim with the bottle under her might not have been perfect. Despite my best efforts, a second or two worth her stream must have hit my hand until I could align the bottle in time. Anya noticed it. “Oh god, is that my... oh no...” she covered her face with her hands and kept lightly sobbing. I calmly reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a few tissues. “Anya, look at me.” I tried sounding as comforting as humanly possible. Anya put her head back up and looked. I patted my hands dry as she watched. “See, problem solved.” I smiled. “Here, wipe those tears off your face,” I handed her a tissue, making sure she was convinced I really did not mind the rest of the mess. After a total of almost a full hour on the road, we had finally arrived at the school. I found a parking spot nearby. I could see a group of kids playfully running around on the playground, not seeming to mind the cold one bit. “Well, here we are...” I stopped the engine. Anya looked at me for a second with a nervous expression on her face. It took me a second to figure out what was wrong. “I umm...” she mumbled. “My jeans are a little... w–wet...” she practically whispered the last word. “Oh... uhh...” I also blushed slightly. “Maybe... maybe your coat could cover it..?” “It’s not long enough...” “Okay, take mine then.” I suggested her. “And I’ll take yours for now.” We put them on and got out of the car. My leather jacket was too large for her small frame, but it got the job done, as you now couldn’t see the sizable wetness on the back of Anya’s jeans, unless you took a peek from underneath. Anya’s jacket looked rather funny on me too; I could barely move my arms around and it was quite a bit shorter on the length; it made me feel like one of those edgy-looking anime protagonists with crop top-like tops and naked abs underneath. “Mommy!” I heard one of the children run towards us energetically. “Hi honey, did you wait for long?” Anya asked the boy as they hugged. “Were you bored or cold?” “No mommy, we played lots and lots and had a buncha fun!” he chimed joyfully. “Time flies when you’re having fun, eh?” I commented, smiling at the kid. “Hi buddy, my name’s Ocean, what’s yours?” I extended my hand for a handshake. I liked treating younger kids as adults. I noticed over the years that most of the time this gave them a good deal of confidence and made a sweet first impression. The kid looked at his mom as if to ask for confirmation. “Honey, Ocean's a friend of mine from work; he kindly offered to drive us home today so we don’t get cold, right Ocean?” I nodded happily. “Hello, I’m Toby. Nice to meet you, Mr. Ocean,” the boy shook my hand. “Your name is very weird,” he added with an innocent and curious tone. “I get that a lot,” Toby’s straightforwardness got an amused chuckle out of me and a nervous one from Anya. “So... shall we?” I gestured at my car parked just outside the playground. Toby gave a quick wave goodbye to his friends and we started walking towards the parking lot. “Mommy..?” little Toby asked Anya on the way to the car. “Why is Mr. Ocean wearing your jacket..?” Anya and I looked at each other as she once again blushed visibly. “No reason,” I answered playfully. “We just wanted to see how it would look, I suppose.” “I think it looks nice on you,” Toby commented, much to my surprise. “You look like a cool supervillain.” I like this kid already, I thought as Toby and I both laughed. Anya gave me another slightly nervous smile. Gosh, those sweet smiles of hers melted my fucking heart. Every time. We got in the car and started driving to Anya’s house. She and Toby had a little chat in the back seat (the front seat next to me was... ahem not very suitable for use now) about the latter’s day at school, as I began to review the events of today countless times in my head, burning every little detail into my memory. I couldn’t quite decide if the ending of our journey was happy or sad or embarrassing or anything else for Anya; but for me, one thing was certain. This was truly the best birthday present I’ve ever got in quite a while.
You know those shows where people swap brains? Like two people - usually male and female, I have noticed - will get zapped by a machine and will have each other’s brains. Well, my omorashi mind has always wondered… is it weird for them to go to the bathroom? So, I decided to write a story about that. Enjoy! 🙂 Julie and Brian entered the large chamber that was the meeting hall. The duo sat down on one end of the circular table. Before them sat their boss, Lusia and besides her was Dexter with his clipboard at the ready to jot down notes. The large projection screen showed the image of a scary looking device. The contraption had wires connecting two large helmets. Coming off of each helmet were incredibly sharp spikes. The helmets lit up blood red. Below the helmets were two metal chairs that had locks on the arm and leg rests. Blue lights flashed behind the device. Unfortunately, Julie and Brian knew this device all too well. “Brian, Julie…” Lusia caught herself. “I mean,” she looked at Brian and said, “Julie.” Luisa then turned to Julie. “Brian… Welcome… I take it your mission was a failure?” “Not entirely,” Julie’s voice came from Brian’s body. “We did manage to retrieve the energy source Dr. Keres stole.” Brain - trapped inside Julie’s body - placed a second device on the table. The device was a bright blue box that had a tower sticking out the top. Electricity sparked from the bulb at the top of the metal tower. Lusia’s eyes lit up. “Well done, you two!” She cried. “You two make a fabulous team!” “Yeah, we do,” Brain agreed, crossing Julie’s legs tightly. “But we are still trapped in each other’s bodies. What do we do?” “Also, we may have retrieved the stolen power source,” Julie added. “But Dr. Keres got away.” “That’s our next step. Find the doctor and send him to justice. I’ll wager he had the mind switcher with him. Dexter,” Lusia turned to her assistant. “Please instruct the agents to track down Dr. Keres and go in to capture him.” “We can do that, Luisa,” Julie protested. Lusia shook her head. “Sorry, but I request that you two stay here and out of trouble,” Lusia twirled her hair uncomfortably. “I mean, you two are in each other’s bodies. You won’t know how to properly fight. It must be difficult to fight in someone else’s body. You don’t understand each other’s body or its limits. I’m sure you will learn how to work each other’s bodies better within time. But as for now, you two should stay here and stay out of trouble.” “But…” Julie began. “Sorry,” Lusia stood. “Do not worry. We should get the mind switcher back in no time. Just try and relax until then.” With that, Lusia and Dexter fled the room. “Unbelievable,” Julie slumped in her seat, folding her arms across her chest. Julie got startled for a second, frightened that her breasts had disappeared. Then she remembered how she was in Brain’s body. Perhaps Luisa had a point about her and Brian not understanding each other’s bodies just yet. This brain swap thing was still kind of new to them. “I have worked in this secret crime fighting agency for fifteen years! And they refuse to let me fight… What’s wrong with you?” Julie noticed Brain - well, her own body - was squirming around quite a bit. Brain kept Julie’s legs crossed. He even occasionally grasped at Julie’s crotch. Julie wanted to yell at him for touching her down there. (Even if it was now technically Brain’s body). But Julie could sense there was something wrong. “I’m fine,” Brian mumbled. “Just, umm… You have to, eh… Go to the bathroom…” Julie’s face dropped. “Oh…” “It’s… Kind of urgent too…” Brian bit Julie’s lip. “Why is your bladder so small, Julie… And that dumb coffee you had for breakfast is not helping!” Julie has always had issues with her bladder captivity. Julie may have been super skillful at kicking criminal butt. But she wasn’t the most skilled at holding in her pee. Julie truthfully felt extremely uncomfortable with her best friend and field partner seeing her pee. Correction… Brian would be peeing for her! Julie wished this whole thing could be avoided. But there was no telling when Dr. Keres would be arrested and Julie and Brian would switch back. And Julie was well aware that Brian… Herself… Whatever… Didn’t have that long. Brian was rocking Julie’s body back and forth as he grasped her genitalia and chewed her lip in utter desperation. “Okay,” Julie said. “Go to the bathroom, then.” “N… No…” Brian choked. “I can wait… You can wait, I mean…” “I can never wait!” Julie corrected. “Just go for me, Brian.” “I can’t…” “Why?” “Because…” “Because why?” “I don’t want to see you naked…” Brian stammered. Julie paused. She hadn’t considered that. Julie was too focused on how this would be embarrassing for her to have Brian pee for her. Until now, Julie hadn’t taken a moment to realize how Brian must be feeling. It must be every bit as uncomfortable for him as it was for her. Brian was not only forced to pee as a girl, but his partner/good friend, nonetheless. Julie had to admit that she had a great friend. After switching bodies with a woman, the first thing most men did was to check out their new female body naked. But even in his desperate need, Brian didn’t want to take so much as a peek. “I know this is awkward, but I seriously don’t want to have an accident! Or hurt myself,” Julie told her friend. “Please go pee for me. I don’t mind. I swear.” “You sure…” Julie nodded. “Okay… Let’s go…” Julie and Brian stood outside the bathroom doors. Brain had Julie’s body hunched over as he grasped at the crotch of her jeans. Julie meanwhile looked back and forth from the bathroom doors. Men. Women. Men. Women. Men. Women. Julie has no idea where s/he should go. Was there a bathroom dedicated to men trapped inside a woman’s body? Curse public businesses and their lack of gender equality bathrooms! “Julie… I… You can’t hold much longer…” Brian moaned. Brian could feel the pressure of Julie’s full bladder slamming down against her sphincter. Julie’s stomach was bulging ever so slightly as Brian fought to keep his friend’s muscles clamped shut. The two cups of coffee Julie drank that morning were pressing down on her pelvic floor. Brian could feel Julie’s panties wrinkle as he tugged and grasped at her aching crotch. “Okay… You’re female on the outside!” Julie decided. “Use the women’s restroom.” “W… Will anyone get upset?” “Most people here don’t even know you and I are switched,” Julie pointed out. “And even then, you have to go somewhere!” “I’m about to go in your pants…” “Go,” Julie ushered Brian into the ladies’ restroom. Julie then stood back with Brian’s arms folded. Julie felt a twitch down inside Brian’s bladder. Brian had to pee too. Julie looked around. She may have looked like Brian on the outside, but she was still wary of people seeing her enter the men’s room. Julie then turned and pushed the men’s room door open, stepping inside. Brain waddled into the women’s bathroom. To his surprise, this place looked exactly like the men’s room. The only difference that Brian could see was obviously, no urinals. There was also a tampon dispenser. Other than that, everything looked the same. Brain could feel Julie’s bladder ready to pop. It hurt to hold. Brain felt Julie’s pee hole twitch as it fought back a rather strong wave. Brian finally made it into an open stall. He slammed the door and locked it shut. Turning around, the very slight of the toilet was enough to make Brian (actually Julie) ready to lose all control right then and there. Just glancing at the toilet added heaps of pressure onto Julie’s sphincter that Brian was sure wasn’t there before. Brain hesitated. He was still reluctant about looking at Julie naked. Brian would try his hardest not to look, but he knew he might have to for certain parts of this ‘project’. Another strong wave of urgency - along with some very slight leakage - was more than enough to convince Brian to suck it up and get this over with. Brian’s hands fumbled, trying to unfasten Julie’s stupid belt. Belt finally off, Brian unzipped and unbuttoned Julie’s jeans. Doing this was enough to reduce some of the pressure. But another wave was coming on. Brian nearly doubled over trying to hold back the ocean that was striking Julie’s sphincter muscle. Brian could see Julie’s cobalt blue panties through the opening of her jeans. Brian took a deep breath and in a few swift movements, he yanked down Julie’s jeans. Then he pulled her panties to her knees. Brian spun around and sat Julie’s bum on the seat. An instant gushing was heard as it propelled from Julie’s spasming urethral opening. Brian had to chew Julie’s tongue to keep from sighing in absolute heavenly relief. It felt so blissful to get all of this pressure off of Julie’s bladder. The smell in the air had the slightest hint of coffee, indicating what Julie had to drink earlier that day. Brian was finally able to relax as he simply sat Julie back on the porcelain throne and listened to the strong hissing of golden nectar as it splashed down into the clear water of the toilet bowl. Brian heard a small fart and quickly realized that Julie had become flatulent for a mere moment. Brian felt Julie blush. A moment passed as Brian allowed Julie to hose down the toilet bowl. “Hey, Julie,” a voice called. Brain sat ridged on the bowl. “Is that you?” The voice asked. Brian recognized the voice as Lacey, one of Julie’s girl friends. Brian didn’t dare speak. He may be in Julie’s body, but he still had his own voice. The last thing he needed was to weird anyone out when these ladies heard the sound of a man’s voice. Maybe if Brian was silent Lacey would assume she was mistaken, and Julie wasn’t the person inside this stall. “Julie?” Lacey’s voice came from the stall next to Brian. Why did women talk to each other in the stalls anyway? Men never spoke to one another at the urinal! It was an unwritten law of the men’s room. And if men did speak to each other, it was very rare. And based solely on rumors Brian has heard over the years, women meanwhile are always chatting from stall-to-stall. Brian had believed this to be false. He had no idea how two people could have a conversation while peeing. But after hearing Lacey speak to him/Julie, Brian slowly began to believe this rumor. “Julie?” Lacey called again. The sound of Lacey’s own urine stream was semi-loud from the stall next door. “Julie, you in there? How did it go fighting Dr. Keres this morning?” Brian continued to remain silent. “Julie?” Lacey asked. “Julie?” Nothing. Lacey fell silent, apparently having given up. Brain sure hoped Lacey didn’t take her anger out on Julie for this later. But if Lacey knew the situation, she would thank Brain for this later. Brian stared straight ahead. He may be peeing for Julie, but he refused to look at her any more than he had to. Brian and Julie were strictly friends. Best friend and partners at their origination, but friends, nonetheless. It would be sooo inappropriate to look at Julie naked! Still, Brian was highly tempted to take a quick peek at her peeing. More importantly, Brian was anxious to see what he looked like to pee with a vulva. That was surely a sight that Brian would never see again. Finally, the temptation became too great, and Brain promised himself just a quick glimpse. Brain spread Julie’s legs on the bowl and looked down. Brian was amazed. It took his male brain a moment to fully grasp what he was seeing. Dangling from Julie’s crotch, hanging in the bowl were extra-long and wrinkled lips. The left lip stretched farther than the right. Squirting in a thick stream between the two was a quick geyser of pale-yellow piss. Droplets flew from the mainstream and landed on Julie’s lips, causing them to glitter in the light of the bathroom. Brian found himself smiling as he watched the stream gush from between Julie's lips and land into the water below, making the surface ripple as the clear water turned a fast shade of yellow. Julie’s pubes were covered in hair, but Brian found that pretty awesome. Most women give into societal pressures to look a certain way. But what way is better than looking natural? Brain soon heard a flush and a stall door opened. It all occurred directly next to Brain, informing him that Lacey had finished her business and was leaving the ladies’ room. Brain decided to wait an extra moment just in case. He still has a little left in Julie’s tank anyway. Julie’s stream soon came to a close. Feeling that she had a little more, Brian gave a slight push. A strong gush was heard as the remaining bits of Julie’s pee fell from her pee hole, between her labia, into the toilet water. Along with them, Brian felt Julie’s anus widen and shrink as another fart was pushed out. Brian again smiled as he heard the dribbling sound of the last drops fall from Julie’s labia into the bowl. No matter whose body you are in… There is no better feeling than emptying a full bladder! Brain ripped off a sheet of toilet paper. Having grown up with three sisters, Brain knew the drill all too well. Always wipe front to back! Brian carefully lifted Julie off the bowl. Just enough so he could place the toilet paper on the front of Julie’s vulva. Brian ran the sheet of crumpled up paper backwards, covering the entire area. Brian then threw the soaking wet sheet into the bowl. Inside the toilet bowl sat a large yellow lake. Floating on it was the sheet of toilet paper, looking like an iceberg in the yellow sea. Brian bid ado to Julie’s pussy as he pulled up her undies and jeans, fashioned her belt, buckled and zipped. Brian then flushed the toilet and watched all of Julie’s bladder contents along with the ruined toilet paper wash away down the pipes. Julie entered the men’s room and was initially shocked at how clean it was. She had heard stories from Brian and her brother about how nasty and messy the men’s room is. It’s a running joke on TV and the media that the men’s room is a horror zone. Julie had entered expecting the worst. But the men’s room in actuality was nearly spotless… Nearly. There was a small puddle of pee here and there. But it was much cleaner than Julie had expected it to be. Julie was also pleased to gaze upon the urinals. Julie had only seen these guys in pictures and on TV. The bathroom was completely empty. Julie made her way to the only stall in the men’s room. But she stopped herself. Julie glanced back at the urinal attached to the wall. Julie was trapped inside a man’s body. Julie has always imagined what it would be like to pee as a man. But she has also often considered what it would be like to use a urinal. This was her chance. She may never have this opportunity again. Julie looked around. The bathroom was totally empty. Julie grinned as she looked at the shining porcelain urinal. Julie took a deep breath and approached the center urinal. Julie undid Brian’s belt and unzipped his jeans. Julie felt extra weird about doing this. But she knew there was no other way. Besides, Brian would probably have to touch Julie’s pussy at some point too. So, they were even. Julie fished around inside Brian’s jeans. She found his penis and navigated it through the fly of his boxers and aimed it at the urinal. Brian had a nice neat, circumcised member. Julie noticed the veins going through it. Julie was surprised to see Brian’s penis lacking in pubic hair. There was a little, but most was gone. Julie wondered if his balls were hairy. She also found herself wondering if Brian shaved. Julie knew some guys shaved. It would have been kind of cool, Julie thought, if Brian shaved and she didn’t. Julie held Brian’s penis down to the urinal. Not entirely sure how to do this, she grasped Brian’s penis with both hands and pointed down, aiming directly at the urinal cake. Julie didn’t even know what urinal cakes did, but she had a feeling she was supposed to aim at it. An instant jet of liquid the color of fresh butter squirted from the vertical slit that was Brian’s pee hold. Julie couldn’t help but smirk as she felt the warm liquid travel through Brian’s penis and fly through the air until it touched down on the urinal cake, soaking it in liquid. This was so cool! Who knew guys could actually feel their pee traveling through their penis. Why didn’t vulvas have this function, Julie thought to herself. Julie knew instantly that she would deeply miss peeing with a penis. She would also miss Brian’s large bladder size. Unlike her, Brain didn’t get desperate to pee often. He could hold vast amounts for quite some time. A large bladder captivity and a fun pistol to aim with… Guys were sooo lucky! Julie stood a few inches back from the urinal, mouth open in a wide smile as she aimed Brian’s penis at the urinal and sprayed his bladder’s contents all over the neon pink urinal cake. Suddenly, the bathroom door opened and a man entered. Julie felt Brian’s face begin to sweat. His throat was closed up from fear. Would this man say anything? Would he be able to tell that Julie was no man? If Julie was making some dumb mistake at the urinal, he sure would be able to tell! The man approached the urinal next to Julie. Julie felt Brain’s body slowly begin to shut down. The man spread his feet on the floor, nodded to Julie, and began peeing. That’s it? He didn’t say anything? Just a nod… Guys are weird. Julie soon finished emptying Brian’s bladder. Grinning even wider, Julie shook Brian’s penis. How she loved to watch Brian’s penis flap in the air as she shook it off. The last few drops flew from the tip and landed against the walls of the urinal. This was sooo much cooler than using toilet paper! Julie wished vulvas had the ability to shake off too! Julie placed Brian’s penis back in his pants, zipped, buckled, and belted. Julie admired the flusher at the top of the urinal. It baffled her. How could this urinal flush? There was no water inside. Julie decided to try anyway. She placed Bruian’s hand on top of the silver flusher and pushed down. Julie was seriously amazed as she observed water appearing on the sides of the urinal. The water rushed down into the urinal bowl and washed the pee down the drain. Julie would have to use the men’s room more often! Julie suddenly found herself wishing that Lusia and the others didn’t capture Dr. Keres for a while. Julie stood outside the bathrooms, waiting for Brian. Finally, Julie watched herself exit the women’s restroom. “Wow, you women take forever in the bathroom,” Julie laughed. Brian rolled his eyes, a smile on his face. “Feel better?” Julie asked. “Much,” Brian sighed. “Good. How did you like peeing as a woman?” “Not bad,” Brian admitted. “I have to admit, it was kinda cool to watch and wipe.” “You watched?” Brian felt Julie’s face go red. “Umm… No… I just…” Julie burst into laughter. “I’m just messing with you,” she playfully elbowed her friend. “Glad you enjoyed the show.” “I’m kind of embarrassed to admit it,” Brian held Julie’s head down. “But I have never actually seen a woman pee.” “No? Don’t you have sisters?” “Well, yeah… But I’ve never seen them pee up close,” Brian pointed out. “But yeah, I’m over thirty years old and have never seen a woman pee before.” “Well, now you have,” Julie placed Brian’s hands on his hips. “And hey, just so you know, I peed for you too.” “Oh,” Brian looked startled. “That okay?” “Yeah, just… Did you…” “Hold your penis? Yes.” “How was it, then?” “Epic!” Julie wailed. “I never ever want to have to sit down to pee again!” “Well, I’m afraid you’ll have to,” came another voice. Lusia stood before them. “We already located and captured Keres. We also recovered the mind switcher. That means…” “Switching back?” Julie managed. “Switching back,” Lusia agreed. Julie snapped Brain’s fingers in frustration. “I assumed you would be overjoyed,” Luisa said. “I am,” Julie stated. “But I have to say… I am going to miss Brain’s large bladder and the way he pees.” “Yes, it is tragic,” Luisa said sarcastically. “Hey, don’t give me sass until you pee like a guy!” Julie snapped. “It good?” Luisa asked. “Good?” Julie exclaimed. “Try fricken’ awesome!” “Yes, well, at any rate… Let’s get this show on the road.” Luisa led Brian and Julie towards the meeting room where the mind switcher was stored. “Don’t feel sad, Julie,” Brian patted Julie - in his body - on the back, reassuringly. “Maybe Luisa will let us use the mind switcher again so you can pee as me.” Julia smiled. “You’ll let me?” “Only if you let me pee as you,” Brian said. Julie chuckled. “Deal!” They say couples that pee together stay together. That may be true. But it is also true that friends that pee together stay together. Particularly friends that pee while in each other’s bodies. Granted Julie and Brian have not had a whole lot of time in each other’s bodies, but Luisa was right. Brian and Julie felt as if they knew each other a whole lot better now. Just by peeing while in each other’s bodies.
This story is based on a dream I had a few nights ago. It is about a woman whose urination habits are controlled by a remote control, like for the TV. Hope you enjoy! Karly approached the massive black throne. Her knees trembled and her neck - having to cran so far to look up - was aching. Karly sucked in a breath and then said aloud, “Mistress…” “Karly, welcome,” came a cold voice from atop the shadowy throne. “How are you, my dear?” “I’m okay,” Karly felt her tongue go numb due to the dryness of her throat. “Yeah?” The voice responded in a falsely pleasant tone. “My favorite maid is doing well this morning? That's good to hear. How is that?” The Mistress pointed a bony finger down towards Karly’s stomach. “M… My what?” Karly crocked, fear rocketing through her nervous system. Karly watched as her shadowy Mistress ran her bony fingers along her jawbone. “Your bladder?” The Mistress asked. “Is your bladder doing okay, my love?” Her voice was extra slow as the Mistress annunciated each syllable carefully. “It’s okay.” “Is it? As I recall, I have not let you empty yet today?” “Just a little morning pee. I’m fine, Mistress, really.” The Mistress twirled a bony finger through her lengthy black hair. “Good girl,” she cooed. “Good strong girl. I am very proud. That’s right. Hold your pee. For I am in control of you!” On the last sentence, the Mistress held up that dreaded remote. It looked like an ordinary television remote from afar. But upon close inspection, one would notice the buttons are very different from any TV remote in the world. Karly stared up, watching her Mistress wag the remote control back and forth in her elderly fingers. “Now, Karly, dear, can you be a good girl and hold for me?” the Mistress asked sweetly. She giggled to herself. “Of course, you can. You do not have a choice. You cannot go tinkle unless I allow you. The only way Karly can pee pee is if I am so kind as to press a little button right… Here…” The Mistress held her finger above a certain button on the remote. Karly wasn’t sure if her Mistress was teasing her by threatening to press the button and make Karly wet herself or if the Mistress was reminding Karly that she was the one who controlled her bladder. “That’s right, sweet thing,” the Mistress said, as if reading Karly’s mind. “I control your bladder. Not you! I’ll bet you feel oh, so silly… A twenty-nine-year-old has to go to her Mistress to ask for the potty. It must be so humiliating for you, huh?” Karly - assuming her Mistress was asking a rhetorical question - didn't respond. “Isn’t it?” The Mistress growled, a hint of fury in her voice. Karly quickly nodded her head. “Speak, girl,” the Mistress snapped. “Is this embarrassing for you?” “Yes, ma’am.” “Yes, what?” “I am embarrassed.” The Mistress smiled. “You are? I don’t blame you. I would be too in your position. Having to ask to go potty. Big girl needing permission to take a pee pee. How old are you, huh?” “Twenty-nine,” Karly repeated. Her Mistress may have already stated her age, but Karly knew she better answer all questions whether or not they were rhetorical. The Mistress pursed her fat lips, covered in black lipstick. “Twenty-nine-year-old lady has to ask to pee pee,” the Mistress teased. “Well… Ask.” Karly had woken up that morning planning on holding it. She knew it was a hassle to get the Mistress to let her pee, so she asked as little as possible. And more often than not, rather than letting her pee, the Mistress just made her situation worse with that cursed remote control! But Karly knew by now she should never defy her Mistress. No matter what her Mistress said, she did. “May I please use the restroom, Mistress?” The Mistress grinned even wider. “Good girl, asking so respectfully. Let me think…” The Mistress tapped her chin. Karly could feel her heart racing. She also felt the fullness of an unemptied morning bladder. Karly crossed her fingers behind her back, silently begging her Mistress to permit a morning restroom visit. But Karly was not at all surprised when her Mistress looked down from her throne and said, “No. I am afraid you cannot tinkle this morning.” Karly swallowed. “And do you know what we do to girls who can not go pee pee?” The Mistress probed. Karly swallowed again. “Increase the pressure?” “That’s right,” the Mistress giggled wildly. “Increase the pressure, good girl!” The Mistress held up her remote. Karly closed her eyes, embracing for the pain. And there it was… In a split second, by a single push of a button, Karly’s bladder went from semi-full to rock hard and painful. Karly’s bladder shot from her stomach. In a split second, her bladder has swollen to the side of a large boulder. The pressure was so intense that Karly was knocked from her feet. Karly fell to her knees. She quickly navigated her hands around the colossal bulge and shoved them down deep into her crotch. Karly knew it didn’t matter. She was forbidden from peeing anyway. Even if she wanted to, nothing could escape. But it decreased the pressure slightly just to hold herself. “Poor thing,” the Mistress sounded. “Tell me how you are feeling. Describe it to your Mistress.” Karly just wanted to curl up and sob. The pressure was so intense. It felt as if she had a literal mountain pressing down on her small sphincter. It hurt beyond belief. Karly didn’t want to talk right now. And she certainly did not want to talk about the pressure! But once again, she knew she could not defy her Mistress’ wishes. It would only make Karly’s situation much, much worse. “Well, I… I…” Karly blinked the tears from her eyes. She struggled to regain control of her breathing. “My bladder is f… F… Full!” Karly wailed. “There… There is much pressure down on my lady bits. I can feel the pressure down deep inside my vagina. My abdomen hurts real bad.” “Uh-huh,” The Mistress laid far back on her throne. She lifted her free hand and slid it down the folds of her pitch black robe into her underwear. “What else?” The Mistress’ movements told Karly she was pleasuring herself. Such a sick woman… But Karly knew by now that her Mistress derived pleasure from her pain. “It… It is painful, Mistress…” Karly stammered, sweat beading down into her eyes. “My bladder is so far stretched… I fear it’s going to explode…” “Yeah, yeah, what else…” The Mistress grunted, her hand shifting wildly inside her panties. “It feels like I have an avalanche of pee inside, all begging to come out,” Karly went on. “I have gallons and gallons of liquid waste inside, all of it squishing my pee hole. My pee hole is aching and throbbing, trying to keep it all back…” “Uh-huh, what else, tell me, tell me!” The Mistress cried forcefully. “My bladder is as big as a boulder and as hard as one too…” “Uh-huh… More, more!” “The pressure is so great… I may just pop. My bladder will actually rupture! I have to piss so bad! I have to pee, I have to pee right now! I can’t take this pressure, Mistress!” “No?” “No!” “Hold it!” “I can’t…:” “Hold it, you damn girl!” The Mistress bellowed at the top of her lungs. “Mistress… I need release…” The Mistress let out a powerful moan as she reached her climax. The Mistress’ muscles relaxed as she slumped in her chair. The Mistress panted and panted. She removed her cum covered hand from her pants and lay as far back into the cushion as she could. “Good girl,” the Mistress moaned. “Thank you for that orgasm. Now, time for you to piddle!” “T… Thank you… M… Ma’am…” Karly whimpered. Karly actually felt as if pee was going to spill from in between her open jaw. “Go,” the Mistress lazily waved Karly on. “T… Thank you, M… Mistress…” Karly - knowing the drill by now - began to crawl towards the toilet her Mistress had set up in the corner of the throne room. Crawling on her massive bladder hurt like hell! Karly’s bladder was so big that she would have easily been able to use it as one of those hoppity hop balls. But Karly didn’t dare add pressure to her bladder. Karly finally made it. Karly lay at the foot of the porcelain potty. Almost there… Suddenly, Karly felt wetness in her jeans. Karly’s pee filled brain was sent into a frenzy of panic. How could she be peeing right now? That was impossible! Karly was physically unable to pee unless her Mistress pushed that button on her remote. As quickly as the squirt started, it stopped. Karly let out enough that her jeans were dripping wet. A massive wet patch the size of a basketball was on her crotch. Karly glanced up at her Mistress who smiled down at her, waving her remote happily. “Sorry,” she apologized. “Just thought you could do with a squirt.” Karly fired a death glare at her cruel Mistress. It took every last ounce of strength from her tired muscles, but Karly managed to pull her two-hundred-pound bladder up onto the toilet with her. Karly was pleasantly shocked that her massive bladder wasn’t enough to break the toilet in half. In her hysteria to reach the top of the toilet, Karly had completely forgotten about her soaking wet jeans which were still on. Karly had no idea how she would take them off. Her bladder was just too large to navigate around. Karly’s muscles were aching, and her pelvic floor was tingling with numbness. “Do you wish to remove your jeans?” Mistress asked kindly. “No…” “No?” “I can’t take it anymore,” Karly sobbed. “Please just allow me to pee…” “With your jeans on?” The Mistress asked in surprise. “What about your panties? You can’t ruin your lovely panties now?” “I don’t care… Please let me pee…” Tears rolled down Karly’s face. All she wanted was to get this piss out of her! She didn’t care in the slightest where it went. She just wanted it out! “Very well,” the Mistress studied her remote control. “Choose your color.” That dumb remote held so many settings. That single remote control controlled the color of Karly’s pee, the strength of her stream, the sound of the stream, even the smell of her pee! Under normal circumstances, a remote like this might be kind of cool. But at the moment, it was torture for Karly. She didn’t care what her piss looked like or smelled like or anything. She just wanted it out of her system! But Karly knew better than to tell her Mistress this. She had to respect her Mistress. Her Mistress was kind enough to ask for Karly’s preference after all. “So many wonderful colors,” the Mistress exclaimed, eyeing the remote. “Lemonaid, pale yellow, neon yellow, colorless, amber…” Karly did her very best to cross her knees through her swollen bladder. But to no avail. The best she could do was hold her knees together. It helped, but not nearly as much as Karly would have liked it too. “Give me light beer,” Karly said. “Light beer it is,” the Mistress tapped a button. “Now for the smell. Coffee, odorless, asparagus, cranberry juice, alcohol, garlic…” “Maple syrup, please,” Karly remembered that one. She loved the sweet smell that came with it. “Very good. Sound?” The Mistress asked. “We have thunderstorm, rainforest, waterfall, fire hydrant, geyser…” Karly had to place a hand over her wet crotch. Just hearing these words was enough to make her ready to blow. “How about a dam bursting?” Karly figured this was appropriate given what she wished to accomplish. “Okay,” the Mistress tapped another button. She then smiled down at full bladdered Karly. “You seriously wish to piss your pants?” “Yes, ma’am…” The Mistress shrugged. “Okay, your pants…” The Mistress examined the remote closely. She then pointed it at Karly. “Let us start you off with a weak trickle.” The Mistress pressed a button. A very soft sound came from underneath Karly. It sounded exactly like a dam exploding. But it was super quiet, as if the dam was holding back a small trail of water rather than a river. The sweet smell of maple syrup filled the air. Karly could feel the stream redampen the crotch of her jeans. She could feel the tiny stream slowly leaving her body and trickle from her pussy into the fabric of her jeans and finally leak down into the toilet below her. Karly was thankful to no longer have to hold it in, but she wished her Mistress would take pity on her and hurry this up. Karly didn’t want to trickle. She wanted to gush! Karly was finally able to relax her muscles - forced more like it - but her bladder was still super uncomfortable at having to hold back gallons more. Karly was tempted to ask her Mistress if she may pee a stronger stream. But she knew her Mistress would do what she wanted anyway, so there was no point in even asking. “Good girl,” the Mistress congratulated. “How about a stronger stream, huh?” Karly just nodded. Her Mistress pressed another button. Karly’s stream grew into a medium sized stream. The sound of the dam exploding was louder as was the maple syrup smell. But Karly still wished her stream could be larger. Karly hated wetting her jeans, but she was too grateful at getting the chance to pee, that she really didn’t care. “Good girl,” Mistress cried, slapping the same button on the remote relatively to turn up the power of Karly’s stream. With each flick of the button, Karly’s stream increased in strength. Karly soon felt as if she had an actual waterfall shooting from her pussy. Karly was forced to pee with such power now that it actually hurt. It hurt incredibly bad to pee with this much strength. But as painful as it was, Karly was delighted. She wanted all of this piss out! It felt sooo good to release! The gushing sound was intense. Karly’s jeans were absolutely flooded. The wetness ran down the legs and was now soaking on the floor. Every square inch of Karly’s jeans were soaked and her pee hole was the size of a quarter as it ejected all of the liquid inside Karly’s body. The sound of a dam exploding flooded the entire room. Karly suddenly felt her entire pussy submerged in water. At first, Karly just assumed her jeans were waterlogged. But looking down, Karely realized that - thanks to her Mistress’ remote - Karly’s bladder had been holding so much that the entire toilet was overflowing. Piss the color of beer poured over the sides of the toilet. The ground grew into a swap as Karly’s pee collected into the largest piss puddle she had ever seen. Karly cursed loudly as every square inch of her lower half began rinsed in her urine. Karly cursed even louder as the stream grew in power. It hurt. But it also felt extraordinary. Karly doubled over on the toilet, swearing her head off as she let herself flood, not caring where it went. Behind Karly, a powerful fart echoed through the halls. Bubbles rose in the urine, splattering liquid waste all over Karly’s back. The Mistress held a hand to her mouth, giggling, her hand hovering over the ‘fart’ button of her remote. Karly’s monster sized gush carried on for several long moments. Finally, when Karly’s bladder appeared to be normal, her Mistress slowed her stream to just a trickle again. Even as she trickled, Karly could feel the urine level grow directly under her and she watched as several rivers of piss flowed over the side of the bowl and to the dark purple marble floor. Karly’s Mistress forced her to let out a series of smaller sized farts. Finally, Karly’s bladder was properly drained. Karly lounged back on the toilet, panting, shaking, and sweating. Her lower half was soaked entirely. Her lower shirt and lower back were also properly drenched in piss. A gigantic puddle rose off the floor, and piss overflowed the toilet. The maple syrup scent was rather calming to Karly. Karly moaned once more. As painful as this moment was - emotionally and physically - it was also kind of exciting. Karly would never admit that to her Mistress, of course. But it was true. People say there is no better feeling than a pee when you are full. And they are right. But it is even more enjoyable to have a bladder that is so full it extends the limits of reality and then finally peeing! Just like Karly’s piss, silence flooded the room. Finally, Karly’s Mistress said to her two simple words, “Good girl.” More silence as Karly panted and her Mistress grinned. Finally, Karly’s Mistress said, “Now, go get cleaned up and get back to work. Ironically, you are my maid, so you must clean all of this up.” Karly looked around at her massive puddle and swallowed. She might need the biggest mop she had. “PS,” the mistress kept her legs crossed, kicking the upper one out and back in. “No complaining. You signed up for this. I - your all powerful and wealthy Mistress - give you such a large salary and in return, I control your bladder. Oh, and you clean for me too.” “I know this,” Karly said. “If you know, then get cleaning.” “But Mistress, can’t I rest first?” “No.” “But Mistress….” The Mistress held up her remote and pushed down on a button. Karly instantly felt her bladder fill again. Granted, it wasn’t nearly as bad as before. But it was a semi-decent urge. The kind of urge that told you, ‘hey, find a bathroom quickly.’ But Karly knew she was unallowed to pee for a while. It was unfair! Why couldn’t Karly just rest for a while? Why did her Mistress have to torment her again so soon? Karly looked up at her Mistress, a look of misery in her eyes. Her Mistress just continued kicking the air and chewing on her nail. “Get cleaning,” she said flatly. “Yes, Mistress,” Karly stood up, her bladder already over halfway full. Karly once again contemplated if any amount of money was worth this abuse. But Karly knew one look at her paycheck would put those fears to rest.
Alright, so little background, I was on a bus with no internet or data and was in the mood to write but didn't have my notes for my other fics so I just decided to create a story with little editing or revisions. This story has been a small fantasy for almost 6 years but kinda filed it away until I remembered it recently. So I decided, screw it, and just wrote this. Very self-indulgent and not very realistic, but I thought some of ya'll would get a kick out of it, so here it is! If it gets some traction, I might move it up my backlog list and write a new entry sooner! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Casey stirred from an expected car nap, his head resting on the frame of the passenger's side window of his mother's sedan. With all the packing and excitement his parents were showing with Casey's move to college, he hardly got any sleep the previous night, along with the early departure for the long drive to his university. Luckily he wasn't driving, his mother was, and he's surprised he was able to fall asleep with her constant yapping about her stories at college and how she met dad… yadda yadda yadda. His nap wasn't rude or antisocial; his mom just liked to hear herself talk. Along with all the excitement, Casey spent the last night in anxiety. He wasn't the most self-assured person, especially in social situations, so he wondered how well he really would do in college. He could join a club or something but he'd be much more comfortable sticking to himself. There was another source of anxiety, however. When Casey applied, he was given a dorm much like the rest of his freshman colleagues, however, some administrator goofed up his application, and put him down as the wrong gender. He knew Casey was a fairly gender neutral name, to be fair, but this was ridiculous. He was spending thousands of dollars a semester in tuition and they couldn't get his sex right? The error was corrected a little too late; Casey was registered into a dorm building designated for females. The school was at max capacity in terms of student housing, so Casey could not be reaccomodated. As a show of good faith, the school allocated the singles room with his own private bathroom, the only other restroom being a public one split between the seven other ladies in the building. Yeah, the building was old, but it wasn't very thoughtfully planned out. Casey felt he should have been excited to have his own single with his own bathroom, knowing the college horror stories of terrible roommates and disgusting shared bathrooms. But among Casey's insecurities was one about women. He never felt comfortable around them, thinking they were constantly judging him, and naturally never had a girlfriend or even had his first kiss. Now he was surrounded by seven of them. Sheesh. The rest of the six hour trip from home was followed by another nap, before arriving at his college. It was a rather prestigious, large university with a large campus surrounded by a college town, and Casey was whisked away to an obscure corner of the campus where his dorm was, which luckily was close to a bus stop to get around campus. Casey started unpacking but was quickly met by one of his dorm-mates, a skinny girl with blonde hair and some glasses in a cute square frame. She wore a tank too and some short-shorts, which was relevant for the weather which was still warm from the summer. She excitedly introduced herself to Casey. "Hi!" Casey was caught off guard by a girl randomly approaching him, he can't recall that ever happening. "Uh, hi." Casey answered. Jeez, he could at least try to be a bit more sociable, he was going to be living with this girl, among others, for the next 9 months. The girl picked up on his awkwardness. "You don't have to be so reserved around us." She responded with a trustworthy smile. "I know it's not very traditional to have a building with a guy amongst a bunch of girls, but the lot of us weren't panning on using it as a source of tension. Despite the gender difference, we can still hang out and be friends as roommates!" Casey eased up on his defensiveness, the girl feeling very genuine in her response. "Heh, thanks. That makes me feel better, I didn't want to be treated as a creep or anything from something I couldn't control." "Oh, of course! We don't mind at all, as long as you respect our privacy and all that, but I don't think that'll be a problem since you got the best space in the house, your own bathroom and all…" she said with a bit of envy in her tone. "Oh, is there a problem with that?" Casey queried, picking up on her tone. The girl sighed. "Yeah, the seven of us sharing one toilet and shower has been quite the drag. So you're lucky you don't have to share it with us." Casey felt relieved he wouldn't have to take part in that. "Oh wow, is it really that bad?" "Yeah it is!" She started to blush. "This might be TMI, but I've almost been reduced to having to go in a bottle or a trash bin because it's occupied. That's how bad it is!" Oh damn. Now Casey felt really lucky he wouldn't have to take part in that fiasco. But he also felt kind of bad. He was only one guy using a whole bathroom, he felt like a bit of a hog. "I mean, I obviously won't be using it that much, if you ask I'll let you use it, i-if that's makes it any better." Casey blurted out, before almost immediately regretting that statement. Don't be a creep, inviting girls into your room to use your bathroom where you could listen, what are you doing?!? "You know, I might have to take you up on that offer. It gets pretty bad sometimes! I promise I'll try to stay out of your way as much as I can!" Casey breathed a sigh of relief, luckily this girl is bubbly and outgoing enough to not be offended or creeped out, it seems. "Yeah, don't worry, there's no harm in asking. I didn't catch your name, the name's Casey, by the way." "Oh! Right! My name is Jenna, let me add me to our group text, too! The group has been talking a lot about you, Casey." Jeez, does his existence as the opposite gender warrant so much attention? After sharing information Jenna returned back inside and Casey went back to unpacking, pleasantly surprised about how well the conversation went. Casey set up his room and by the time he was finished, he was exhausted from lugging his stuff up a flight of stairs to his room. While unpacking he met two other girls, one an short asian girl with black hair and red dyed tips. She gave Casey a polite wave before heading out the door, appearing to be in a hurry. The other being Sandra, his roommate next door who introduced herself after hearing the noise from Casey moving in. She was a chubby dirty-blonde haired girl that seemed a bit more reserved. Casey did acknowledge, unintentionally, her large breasts. He tried not to be creepy, but her low-cut t-shirt made it hard not to notice. It was also difficult not to be aware of her pressing need to pee. Sandra's pressing of her thighs in her leggings and slight dips and bobs as she shuffled her feet back and forth made it clear she had an urgent need to piss. After exchanging introductions she quickly excused herself to the restroom, which was right across from Casey's room. Although unfortunately for her, it appeared to be occupied. She sighed and waited for the occupant to finish powdering their nose, whoever they were. As mentioned, Casey was beat after a long day, and couldn't even bring himself to prepare the ramen noodles he brought with him, and slipped into his stiff but adequate bed, calling it a night. The next morning he was awoken by a light knock. Knock knock… "Just a few more minutes…" Casey murmured, thinking it was his mom trying to wake him up. Knock knock knock… Casey buried his head in his pillow, trying to shut out the noise. BANG BANG BANG!! The banging startled Casey awake, suddenly remembering he wasn't in his home. He shot out of bed, thinking something was wrong. A fire in the building?? He opened the door, only then realizing he removed his shorts the previous night, going to bed in his t-shirt and some rather form fitting briefs. At the door was Jenna, in nothing but a pair of skimpy panties and a bra, doubled over and hopping from foot to foot. Casey didn't think he's seen anyone so desperate for a piss in his life. "Jenna?! Is everything ok? What's with the banging?!" Casey made an attempt to cover himself, Jenna's perky cleavage presenting itself straight to Casey as she hunched over. Casey covered his lower bits partly out of shame but also to stifle an erection that was inevitable given the situation. "H-hey Casey! S-sorry to wake you up… I know it's sudden, b-but I really need to call in that favor now!" Jenna gripped her crotch intensely, squirming fiercely, fidgeting her large behind up I. The air behind her, with puppy dog eyes begging for the use of Casey's commode. "O-of course! Go right ahead!" Casey said awkwardly. Jenna didn't need a second invitation. She dashed past Casey, still hands in crotch, and sped into the bathroom, not even bothering to close the door. A second followed before a tremendous stream could be heard, followed by an equally loud moan of relief. Casey was taken aghast, a half naked girl was pissing a waterfall practically next to him as he waited outside the door, tempted to take a peek out of sheer curiosity but he wouldn't dare. Even so, to call Jenna free-spirited was an understatement. After a few minutes the stream slowed to a trickle, then nothing, followed by a well needed sigh of relief, then a flush. Casey fiddled with the items in his desk, in an attempt to seem unaware or uninterested, like he wasn't listening. Jenna reappeared, looking much more relaxed. "Phew, thanks for that, Case. I guess that's what I get for downing a bunch of drinks before bed!" Casey tried to play it cool. Tried. "Oh, uh, you're welcome, it sounded like you really needed to go." "I guess you heard that huh? Yeah, it was bad, not sure if you could tell but my bladder was bulging like crazy! I don't recall ever needing to go that bad before. It felt really good too…" "W-well, if you ever need to go again, I don't mind." Whoa Casey! You're getting ahead of yourself, what are you doing?! "You know what, I think I will…~" Jenna said. Was that a bit of flirtation in her voice? "Thanks again Case, I'll see you around!" Jenna exited his room, as free as a bird. Casey was feeling hot in the face? What just happened? He felt barely awake enough to process what happened. He followed Jenna to close the door to his dorm, and looked out across the landing to see another girl waiting outside the bathroom, with dark skin and braided black hair and green eyes shining like emeralds, crossing her legs, looking right back at him, having witnessed the whole series of events. Casey turned beet red, and slammed the door out of shame and awkwardness. He slumped to the ground, trying to process what the hell just happened, his mind racing. He took a deep breath and decided to take a shower and clear his head. He glanced at the clock and saw it hadn't even been past 10am. Casey hadn't even been in his dorm for 24 hours and he'd already seen three desperate girls in his dorm, one of which was literally pissing a pressure hose just a few feet from where he stood. What has he gotten himself into? End of Part 1
"Is the everything in the hotel up to your expectations, your highness?" The hotel owner asked. "Y-Yes, It's quite the wonderful place." Peach said with a smile. "Is everything alright, princess?" The blue Toad behind her table asked. "Yes, i'm just...very amazed by how...dazzling this hotel looks." Peach said. "That means a lot to us, your highness. Here at the Last Resort, We go all out for our guests." The hotel owner said. A waiter approached the table and held a teapot. "More Koopa Leaf Tea, your highness?" The waiter asked. Peach smiled nervously and raised her hand. She clutched the front of her dress and shook her head. "No thank you." She replied. She got up from the table and a few of the hotel staff began escorting her through the Mezzanine. Sweat rolled down Peach's cheeks are her eyes darted back and forth between the waitresses. Soon they reached the elevator and with the press of a button, the lift began taking them to floor 5. Peach's eyes kept darting back and forth. Her body shifting around uncomfortably. "Are you sure you're feeling okay, your highness?" "Y-Yes! Elevators just make me feel nervous, that's all!" Peach said, Louder than she intended. The staff nodded and kept looking in front of them. Peach continued shimmying while waiting for the elevator to reach the 5th floor. Why was the Princess feeling so nervous? Well for one, the hotel staff. Something about them just seemed off. Their mouths didn't move at all when they talked, they all had the same facial expression and she could've sworn she saw one floating while she was in the lobby. Though, she chalked that last one up to her needing to rest after a long trip. A sense of relief flowed in once she heard the ding from the elevator and the door opened. "Alright your highness. if you need anything from us, just ring the bell in your room." the Staff said. "Thank you for your services. And once again, thank you for inviting me." Princess Peach said as she waved at the staff. The elevator closed and Peach and the toad began making their way back to their respective rooms. "Good night,Princess!" Toad said. Peach waved back and opened the door to her room. She closed the door and let out a sigh. Now that she was alone, she clutched the front of her dress once more and crossed her legs. With no eyes on her anymore, she was finally able to do something about the pressure that had been building up in her bladder. The hotel's tea was delicious. So delicious that Peach had overdone it a little and was now paying the price for it. Thankfully, now that she was in the privacy of her own hotel room, she could take care of business without hesitation. She speed walked towards the bathroom door and immediately went inside. Peach turned around and there it was. A toilet glowing and glistering right in front of her eyes, almost as if it was inviting her. .....And that isn't an exaggeration. The toilet was glowing and sparkling. As was most of the bathroom. And her entire room. Almost as if everything was made out of gold. "Eeep!" Peach squeaked. She hastily made her way to the toiled and lifted the lid up. She hiked up her dress and hastily pulled down her panties. She draped the front of her dress and sat down. As soon as her rear made contact with the toilet seat, the entire dam broke lose. Out came a powerful gold colored stream of water. The sound of it splattering against the bowl and splashing into the water below quickly taking over the silence that was there before. The painful twinges her body had constantly given her was quickly replaced by an overwhelming feeling of relief and Peach couldn't keep herself from closing her eyes letting out a long sigh. The noises coming out of her mouth would've sounded unprincess-like to anyone listening. But thankfully, she was all alone now. So she relaxed and enjoyed the release she had been craving. She opened her eyes and looked for something to keep her occupied while her bladder was still emptying itself. She couldn't help but be amazed at just how....Luxurious the hotel looked. Sure, she was a princess. A luxurious room was hardly and uncommon sight for her. But that still didn't seem to stop her from feeling amazed. They really went all out. Or so she thought. Cause suddenly, all the light in the bathroom disappeared. Like the power had suddenly gone out. This startled Peach and the bathroom had suddenly become a lot more creepy now. Thankfully, her stream had come to and end. All she had to do now was wipe and then she could ask the staff what happened. She grabbed a roll of toilet paper and wiped herself with it before tossing it into the toilet bowl. She reached for her ankles and grabbed the waist of her panties, her rear hovering right above the toilet seat when suddenly..... "EEEP!" Peach yelped and turned around and stumbled forward. Nearly tripping over her heels. She pulled her panties up and took a second to catch her breath. Something or someone had touched her butt just now. She turned around and her heart nearly stopped when she saw a monstrous claw sticking out of the toilet bowl. while holding the piece of paper she had just dropped. Peach let out a scream and hastily reached for the door. But to her horror, the door wouldn't open. She bashed her body against the door and through the small gap, she could see that someone had barricaded the door with her luggage. The claw sank back in the toilet and water began shooting out of the toilet. "W-What's going on?!" Peach asked as she leaned her back against the door. She could hear laughter coming from the toilet. A bejeweled crown hovered out of the toilet and began glowing until... "BOO!!!!!!" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" A female voice yelled. Luigi jumped out of bed and took a second to catch his breath. The lights in his room were gone and the room was no longer as shiny and luxurious as it was when he first got here. In fact,it now looked like something ripped out of a horror movie. He grabbed is flashlight and slowly approached the door to see where that scream came from. "H-Hello?" ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This short was just the result of me playing Luigi's Mansion 3 and thinking..."There's so many bathrooms in this game." Which you know, the game takes place in a hotel,so it makes sense. The funny thing is,Some of the woman's restrooms in the game are blocked. i thought i could make a desperation story out of that, But Peach is the only female character in the game that isn't a ghost and she spends the entire game being kidnapped. So i decided to do a short instead. Edited January 16 by OmoGamer32 (see edit history)
”You’ve reached Oh-Three-Oh, the Public Urination Prevention helpline. How can I help you?” Alyne had started a thousand calls this same way, it felt like. She knew the words by heart. “Ah… finally. Me and my friend…” The woman on the other end is interrupted. Alyne is able to make out a conversation, though it’s a little hushed. “They finally picked up? Thank god.” Another voice. Probably the friend. “Yeah I just made it to the end of the phone queue…” There is also a faint moan, from somewhere away from the phone, signaling pee desperation. Alyne has become scarily good at making those out. “Sorry. As I was saying, me and my friend…” There is a pause. “…we’ve been stuck in a car queue for several hours. We need to pee, badly.” “Both of you need to urinate?” There is another pause. “Yes.” Somewhat faintly, Alyne hears, “We’re dying!” “I see. Do you believe you at a risk of wetting very soon, within the next minute or so?” “I-I’ll ask.” Faintly again. “She wants to know if we’re about to wet ourselves.” The friend’s response, immediate. “Holy shit, yes I am!” A pause. “No, like, is it actually going to come out right now or can you wait a little longer if you really try?” A hint of panic. “I-I guess I can hold on, but I’m so fucking full it’s not even funny.” The first woman returns. “We-we can both hold it for now, but it’s really really bad.” “That’s good. Can you give me your location? I might be able to find out how long it will take for the congestion to clear.” “Ah-my location? Let’s see…” A few moments. “P17 road, a few miles south of Rain City.” “Driving towards or away from Rain City?” “Oh, er, right. Towards it.” “I see. Give me a minute and I’ll be right back.” Normally, Alyne would have confirmed a few more things before checking the congestion. However, this was far from the first case related to traffic trouble down that particular road tonight. She was confident she would be able to get an update and return to the call quickly. The first thing she did was to open one of the tabs on her computer. It was the website of the transport authority of Wildercowe, the relevant county for this case. Last update, 19:42. Fifty-six minutes ago. Traffic disruptions on the P17 - Rain City connection are still being investigated. We thank you for your patience. Alyne calls out to her coworkers. “Did anyone recently check the Rain City road situation?” Everyone around are in calls of their own, but Alyne still gets a quick reply. “I called them just now. They’ve started clearing out the blockage, and while the road won’t be operational for a while they’re starting to direct cars through one by one. Things should be moving, though it might be a little slow at first.” “All right, thanks Iiris.” Alyne returns to her own call. “I’m back, and I have some information about the blockage. But first, has the situation worsened on your end?” Alyne can hear a hushed “Oh please please please.” on the other end, before the caller returns. “Well, ah, I think it’s about the same. My friend is in a bad way, I’m very desperate as well. But we are still holding on for now at least.” “That’s good. I can also report that traffic is being let through starting now. You will likely be able to get through to Rain City within the next hour at least.” “Oh, um, I see!” The woman speaks away from her phone for a bit. “She says we’ll get through traffic in an hour.” Alyne can’t hear exactly what the other woman says, but the gist of it seems to be that she doesn’t have an hour to wait. There is cussing and maybe some crying involved. The caller returns. “My friend wants to know if, if she could be allowed to relieve herself in the car?” The woman sounds nervous, probably a little afraid to ask. “Depending on the circumstances, I may grant special permission for a person to relieve themselves outside of a toilet. However, there are a number of requirements before I am allowed to do that.” “What are the requirements?” “In this case, I need to know four things. First, how much time has passed since your friend last urinated. Secondly, I need to know what your available options for emergency urination are. Thirdly, I need to assess whether or not your friend has had any opportunity to urinate legally when they reasonably should have. Finally, I need to assess how much time is going to pass before your friend will have another opportunity to urinate legally. That last one is already covered.” “Okay, okay.” The woman sounds a little stressed. “Where do we start?” “Keep in mind your testimony alone won’t be enough to cover all of this. I’m going to need to ask for relevant documentation at times. Well, mostly I need a photocopy of your friend’s last receipt of relief to verify the last time she urinated.” The woman is silent for a few seconds. “Isn’t it too easy to lie and use an older receipt?” “Well first of all, that would be a crime. But no, generally when people try a stunt like that, it tends to be pretty obvious. And if it ends up going to court, they have a database for that kind of thing we’re not allowed to access. I wouldn’t recommend it unless you want to land in a lot of trouble.” “All right. Sorry. I wasn’t planning on doing anything like that, just speaking before thinking.” “Don’t worry. It’s my job to help you and your friend to avoid breaking the law, after all. But we should probably get into your request for emergency relief. First, I need to ask your friend a question.” “All right, I’ll hand the phone over in a sec.” Quieter, Alyne hears “She needs to ask you a question.” The other woman picks up the phone. Her speech is rapid and breathy. “H-hello? You n-needed to ask something?” “Yes. This is Alyne of the Public Urination Prevention helpline speaking. I need to confirm with you; are you requesting permission for emergency relief?” “Yes…!” She whispers it. “Very well. Do you believe you will be unable to hold your urine until your next opportunity to relieve yourself?” “Yes, yes! I definitely can’t last another hour!” “All right. I am going to need to verify this later, but when was the last time you urinated?” “I-I can’t remember exactly! It was this morning though, s-sometime around 10 AM?” Alyne hears the other woman say something in the background. “Y-yeah! Right. B-both of us went at the same t-time, just before ten!” “All right. You can hand the phone back now.” The phone returns to the first woman. “So, so what now?” “Now, I am going to need a photocopy of the receipt of relief for your friend’s last urination.” “Okay. I’ll ask her now.” The conversation is too quiet for Alyne to pick up on anything. “She, er, has it, but it’s difficult for us to access right now.” “I’m sorry, but without it my hands are tied. I need it to be able to grant emergency relief.” Some more conversation in the background. This time, more agitated. The woman returns. “She’s going to try and get it.” Alyne can hear a shuffling noise. “It’s, ah, in her jacket in the passenger seat.”, the woman hastily adds. Neither Alyne nor the caller says anything for a bit while they wait. The other woman is clearly struggling in the background, Alyne is guessing the caller has a hand on the wheel and isn’t helping out as a result. “Er, while we wait could we do me as well?” Alyne snaps back to the call. “Oh, sorry. What do you mean?” “um, you know…” There is uncertainty in the woman’s voice. “I-I don’t know if I have an hour either. I’m really desperate. Maybe I can…?” “I would only advise emergency relief if you truly feel that you can’t hold it anymore. If you can push yourself for another hour, you can make it in time. Are you certain you will wet yourself if you wait another hour?” “N-no, I guess not. But…! What if traffic doesn’t clear up?” The woman sounds dejected. “If you want to, you can photocopy your own receipt of relief as well. I’ll have most of the information you need ready then, if the situation worsens.” “Oh, yeah okay. That sounds good.” There is some rustling. “Do I send it via mail?” “You can, but it’s usually easier if you just send it as a message via the 030 number.” Some more rustling in the back. Alyne thinks she can hear a panicky shriek, hopefully it’s not too late for the friend. “She, she just got hers out as well. Give me a second, I’ll take the pictures.” Half a minute later, the pictures arrive. Due to a recently implemented system update, any photos sent to 030 during an active call are automatically redirected to the mail address of whichever agent is on that call. Before this change, Alyne had experienced callers wetting themselves while desperately trying to send her an email using their phone. Despite some bad experiences Alyne had had with system updates at her job in the past, this particular change was definitely a welcome one. “There! Can you see the pictures now?” Alyne quickly refreshes her email. Two new emails, one per image, both titled Redirected Message 20:48. The images are not exactly top quality, but Alyne has seen enough of these that she can envision them as clearly as if she were holding them in her hands. No issues reading the text either. She creates two new tabs to keep the images in going forward. First one, important info was the time and volume, 457ml at 9:51. Alyne can’t help to make note of the rather cutthroat charge, this was Wildercove all right. Second one. 1007ml at 9:49. This, when coupled with the matching T-Code, strongly suggested they had gone to the toilet together, as the desperate woman had said. That was good, since it would assist their case that they had taken reasonable precautions to avoid public urination according to their ability. Although… “Which one is you, and which one is your friend?” “Oh! Um, let me check.” There is some rustling. “The first one, 9:49 is me. 9:51 is my friend.” “All right. Where was this toilet visit?” “It was at the hotel we were staying at. We wanted to make sure to pee before heading out. Um…” There is a gasp in the background. “Do you need to know anything else in particular about it?” “No, that should be enough. Have you had any good opportunities to pee between then and getting into the traffic jam?” The woman on the other end is quiet for a while. “We did stop once, at a restaurant. We could have both used the toilet then, but weren’t expecting to be stuck in a traffic jam for several hours.” Alyne makes some notes on her computer. “Thank you for being honest. This might have affected your friend’s case under other circumstances but given time amount of time you’ve been stuck in traffic for…” There is some conversation between the two. Alyne can pick up the other woman exclaiming “oh, thank you!”. The caller returns. “My friend says thank you. She also said she’s at her limit and really, really needs the relief soon. Do you think…?” “Yeah. I believe that given the circumstances she can be granted immediate emergency relief. Do you have something for her to pee into ready?” “Um, yeah. Before I called, I made sure to get the car toilet out from the trunk. Traffic wasn’t moving at all, so I could do it safely!” She adds the last part a bit hastily. “Very good. Your friend has been granted emergency urinary relief, so she is allowed to use it now. Make sure your car toilet is properly set up before she does, though.” The woman on the other end doesn’t answer this time, and Alyne picks up on rustling, frenetic conversation and stifled moans, presumably from the second woman. Then a sound Alyne is all-to-familiar with cuts through the silence – the sound of liquid crashing against plastic. The other woman must be peeing. The euphoric moans of relief are loud enough for Alyne to clearly pick up as well. The caller returns while the other woman is still peeing. “So, um…” “Did your friend successfully use the car toilet?” “Yeah, yeah she did. Just in time…” She laughs a little nervously. “So, what about me?” “Right. Given your current condition, I can’t give you emergency relief.” There is a frustrated, tense sigh. The background waterfall is probably even louder on her end. “I am sorry. Traffic should be clearing up again, though. If you are still stuck about thirty minutes from now, or you believe there is a risk of imminent wetting, call again.” “It’s just… She gets to… you know. And I have to wait.” “Don’t think of it that way. You are well on your way to making it to a toilet for proper relief, despite the unfortunate conditions. That is something to be proud of. As for your friend, she is certainly lucky to have avoided wetting herself. However, she’ll have to deal with a strike on her record nonetheless.” “I… suppose that’s true.” A grunt of pain, this time from the caller. “If it’s true that traffic is clearing up soon, I can make it, I think.” “Good. Was there anything else?” “No. I think that’s it at least. Thank you for helping us.” “It was nothing. Thank you for calling the three-oh-three. I’ll probably keep getting calls from your area for a while now.” She adds the last part with a slight laugh. “Oh! Yeah, I suppose we’re probably not the only ones in this situation. Thanks, again. Good bye.” “Good luck on the road. Bye.” Alyne ends the call, and checks the phone queue. Fifty-three people in line. She gets ready, then picks up the next call. The Oh-Three-Oh was always busy.
030 - Cabin in the Woods ”You’ve reached Oh-Three-Oh, the Public Urination Prevention helpline. How can I help-” “Oh thank god! I finally came through!” The connection is very unstable, distorting the caller’s voice. Becoming better at making out what people said over interference was a part of the job. “I-I don’t have much time…!” Alyne tries to speak very clearly as she responds. “Please, describe your situation.” “I’m-” Her voice cuts off. “-ide a cabin! I-” She cuts off again. “There is some interference. Can you repeat that?” “I’m stuck inside a cabin! I need to pee!” She says it faster this time. “Do you have no way of relieving yourself?” “Yes I do! But… Yes, hurry!” “What mode of relief do you have available?” “A Pee-Tee! You have to give me permission to use it now!” “Please, just try to contain yourself a little longer. You are strong. I need to know more about your situation. First, why are you stuck within a cabin?” “I can’t, please-” Her voice cracks, but she is cut off again. “-in the mountains, the cabin is buried in snow!” When the voice comes back, she is speaking very quickly again. “Where are you right now?” “In Storhoy! It’s near-” A second after the woman cuts off, Alyne is checking maps. Storhøj was a small village community on the other side of the border. Mountain tourism, hiking. That kind of thing. Alyne isn’t sure if the woman is still cut off or is just waiting for her to speak. “Do you mean Storhøj on the border to Voya?” “Yes…!” The reply is slightly choked. The caller doesn’t wait for Alyne to say anything. “Please! I need to pee now! I’m at a risk of- at a risk of wetting my-” A pause. “-can’t take it any more!” “Please, hold on. I need more information. How long have you been holding your pee?” “I can’t! I can’t I-” She takes a shaky breath. “I haven’t peed since yesterday!” Alyne glances at the current time displayed on her computer screen. 17:54. The woman had likely been holding it for more than 24 hours. Alyne needed to hurry. She continues. “Have you contacted anyone else to help you get out of the cabin?” “Yes! That was the first thing I did when I got a signal! But they-” Half a second. “-be here for several hours!” “I see. Do you have your receipt of relief for your last pee?” There is a long silence. “Do you have-” “I don’t…” The woman pauses. “I don’t! I don’t have it in the cabin, and I’m locked in!” “Calm down. Hold on. We can resolve this. Can you describe the last time you peed?” “I- ah…! It was at a hostel in Veien. Gildenfruen. On my way here.” “Did you stay at the hostel as a guest?” “Y-yes!” Okay. I’ll ask one of my coworkers to check with the hostel. They should be able to provide a copy of the reci-” “N-no, don’t! Please!” Alyne doesn’t say anything. “I won’t be able to wait for that long. Please! There must be-” “I’m sorry, but I need the receipt for your last pee. Otherwise, it is very difficult for me to give you emergency permissions. I think I will be able to check this very quickly.” There is a pause. “I-I-I’m sorry. I lied.” Alyne is somewhat taken aback. “About what?” “My last pee wasn’t at the hostel at all.” “Then where was it?” “I, um, I…” The woman seems to have trouble getting her words out. “I peed in V-voya.” “What do you mean?” Alyne is pretty sure she knows what the woman means, but making sure is part of her job. “I, I peed outside.” “I see.” It wasn’t exactly uncommon for tourists to Voya to engage in a bit of public urination. It was extremely unlikely they would be prosecuted for it, after all. Actually admitting doing it to a 030 agent was another matter. “And what about the hostel?” “I did pee there, but not yesterday. But please, I-” She cuts off just as she raises her voice. “-pee!!” Despite missing half of what she said, the woman’s intent is more than clear to Alyne. “All right. Even if you are in Voya, that still doesn’t mean…” “I know!” She stifles a sob. “But if I don’t get to pee within the next minute, it is going to be so much worse for me!” “All right.” Alyne opens a document on her computer. “Because of the circumstances, you cannot provide a receipt for your last urination. I still need to ask you a few questions about it.” “No! Please, I can’t!” “I need to have this information, otherwise there is no way I can grant you emergency relief.” “Okay, okay! I’ll answer, just hurry, do it quickly!” “When did you last urinate?” “I told you the truth last time. It was yesterday! Nighttime.” “Where was this?” “Up on the mountain. I don’t know exactly where!” Alyne lets is slide, and makes a note. “How much did you urinate, approximately?” “I-I don’t know!” She breathes heavily for a moment. “Probably at least a liter, a-actually.” “Why do you think it was more than a liter?” “It was a lot, okay! I don’t know exactly how much it was, but it-” She cuts off, again. “-to my other receipts and-!” The woman suddenly stops. “I’m peeing, I’m peeing please I can’t I’m going to wet myself I have to now…!” Alyne can practically hear the grinding teeth on the other end as the woman finishes. “I have all the information I need.” That wasn’t entirely true, but she had enough given the circumstances. You are granted immediate emergency urinary relief.” “Thank you thank you thank you!” Alyne can hear the woman shuffle with her clothes and the portable toilet even as she’s thanking her. Then, there are a few seconds of silence. And then-! The sound of the woman’s urination came through shockingly clearly, both the stream itself as well as her relieved vocalizations. Alyne couldn’t help but feel some sympathy twinges in her own bladder. It was quite full, of course. She was near the end of her shift, and people didn’t pee while at work. Not in her city, anyway. Suddenly, though, she stops. Alyne is getting ready to end the call. “Are you-?” “It’s full!” “Excuse me?” “The p-porta-ah! Portable toilet filled up!” “Do you have a second one?” “W- no!” “Do you still need to urinate?” “Yes! Badly!” “Are you at a risk of wetting yourself in the very near future?” “I-I don’t-” A pause. “No, not immediately. But help isn’t coming for hours!” “How large was the capacity of the portable toilet?” Strictly speaking, Alyne didn’t have to ask this. It wouldn’t affect her ability to help the caller at all. A few moments pass. “Five-hundred milliliters!” Alyne thought she might know which brand of P-T that was. She couldn’t be one hundred per cent sure of course, there were many 500ml-variants out there. The circumstances of the caller made her suspect it was a relatively cheap model often sold to travelers who weren’t really expecting to ever have to use it. If that was the case, it wouldn’t be the first time that particular P-T had caused issues like this. 500 mills just wasn’t enough to cover an emergency. Well, especially not a 24-hour emergency. “I see. If you feel that you are at risk of wetting yourself, you may call again.” “But I don’t even know if I’ll have a connection then-” Static. “-be stuck in the phone queue and piss my fucking pants!” “I’m sorry, but there is no way for me to help you. There is no way for me to grant preemptive emergency relief. In addition, you just got relief.” “But I wasn’t able to finish! My bladder is still bursting!” “For our purposes, the important thing is that you are no longer at a risk of wetting yourself in the near future. I’m sorry I can’t help you any further. Thank you for calling the oh-three-oh.” Alyne ends the call.
030 - No relief ”You’ve reached Oh-Three-Oh, the Public Urination Prevention helpline. How can I help you?” Though you would have a hard time discerning it from the practiced greeting, Alyne was in a bad mood. This was her longest workday of the week, and she was working overtime. “H-hi. I’m calling because, you see…” The caller, a woman with a soft voice, meanders off into a whisper. “Yes?” “I, um, I’m having some troubles right now…” “I see, can you describe your problem in more detail?” “I- I, well I don’t really know…” “Start from the beginning, please.” It wasn’t too uncommon for callers to be at a loss at first. On a normal day, Alyne wouldn’t have been too annoyed with her for it. “Well, my toilet’s broken you see, and they said they would fix it but it’s taking so long…” “I see. Do you need to urinate at the moment?” “Er, well… Um, yes… I do.” “Is is very urgent?” The woman doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. Alyne glances at the digital clock on her desktop. 18:23. Her shift ended 23 minutes ago. Her longest shift of the week, and it kept getting longer. “It’s… pretty urgent. I don’t know how much longer I can hold it for.” “Do you believe that you are at a risk of wetting yourself within the near future?” “U-um… I don’t, well…” The woman stammers, trying to find the right words. “Not in the near future, I suppose, but if I have to wait much longer…” “When was the last time you urinated?” “Er, when I arrived at work this morning so… About nine?” She then sheepishly adds “I had a lot to drink at work today.” “And do you know when your toilet will be fixed?” “It-it was supposed to have been fixed during the day, but it got postponed. So now I don’t have a toilet until tomorrow at the earliest.” “Do you believe you can hold it until then?” “Wh- I,…” The woman sounds flustered. “No! That’s impossible, there’s no way I can hold it for that long.” Alyne sighs. Where the hell was her relief? The 030 got a mix of relatively mundane calls where the agent would offer some advice or encouragement, and actual emergency calls that needed to be handled with care. Under normal circumstances, Alyne probably would have tried to end this call quickly as soon as it became clear the woman wasn’t at an immediate risk of wetting herself. However, she really didn’t want to get wrapped up in a difficult to resolve emergency call just as her relief showed up. She had been at work all day and needed to get home soon. “Well, if you are not at an immediate risk of wetting but don’t think you can hold it until your home toilet is fixed, you are going to need to use another toilet.” The woman is silent. “Do you have any neighbors? You could ask to borrow their toilet. Otherwise, I can check if any stores in your area are licensed to offer a toilet service.” “There is a bar nearby with a toilet, but…” Alyne was pretty sure she knew where this was going. If you were going to use a toilet anywhere away from home, a bar was never a good idea. Those prices were for people with literally no other choice. “It’s so expensive! I don’t know if…” “If it’s your only alternative, I would recommend it over wetting yourself. If you don’t want to use that toilet, and can’t wait until tomorrow, what about a neighbor?” The woman is silent for a few seconds, thinking. “I can’t. It’s… it’s too humiliating.” Borrowing another person’s private toilet was a rather touchy subject in many parts of the country. It was something Alyne encountered a lot in her profession. “Well, your options are to wait until tomorrow, ask a neighbor to borrow their toilet, or to go to that bar or some other place with a license.” “But I… I don’t…” “In any case there isn’t much more I can do to help you, I’m afraid. If you believe that you are at a risk of wetting yourself, you can call again. But keep in mind that you having had reasonable opportunity to use the toilet and still choosing not to will factor heavily against you if you need to seek emergency relief.” Alyne shifts impatiently in her chair and flips her hair, annoyed. Someone was going to get chewed out over this. Why hadn’t her relief shown up yet? The woman lets out a frustrated sigh, which seems to transform halfway into a moan. “I guess you’re right. I’ll… I’ll do what I can.” “Very well. Thank you for calling the oh-three-oh. Have a good weekend.” She ends the call, then looks around the call center. All the other agents were in the middle of handling a call. She checks the call queue. Seventy-three people long, and this was just her unit. Every agent was needed right now, or else things were going to get hairy. So were the hell was her relief? Erica should have been here almost an hour ago. “Hey!” She shouts out into the room. “Has anyone heard what’s happened to Erica?!” One of her coworkers look up, shake her head and returns to her call. Alyne looks at the call queue. Seventy-four people. At least she got well compensated for overtime, but Erica better show soon. She quickly finishes a case note on her computer, picks up the phone again, and takes the next call. ”You’ve reached Oh-Three-Oh, the Public Urination Prevention helpline. How can I help you?” The caller doesn’t immediately respond. There is a sniffle. “How can I help you?” Stuff like this was part of the job, but Alyne’s patience was wearing a little thin. “I-I-I n-need to p-pee…” The caller was a woman, from her pitch Alyne placed her as somewhat young. Early twenties? It was hard to say exactly. Her voice was quiet, afraid, pleading. “Try to hold on. Talk to me.” Alyne put her frustration aside for the time being. “I can’t… Hold it a-any more…! It hurts…!” The woman yelps. “Stay with me. You can hold it just a little longer. I’m here to help you.” The woman makes a sound Alyne chooses to interpret as a continued effort to hold on. It could just have been a sob, though. “I’m going to ask you some yes or no questions. Is that okay?” “Mmh…!” Probably a yes. “Are there any toilets available to you right now?” “N-no…” A whisper. “Has it been more than ten hours since you last urinated?” “Yes…” “Do you have access to anything you can pee into, like a portable toilet?” “No…” She sucks in air. “I can’t, I-I can’t…!” Alyne takes a breath. She didn’t anticipate she could do much to help the caller at this point. These kinds of calls – callers already at their limit and out of options – rarely ended well. Still, she always tried. Alyne speaks with added emphasis. “I can help you, but I need more information. I’m going ask you a few questions. Please, try to hold on while you answer them.” “O-okay… B-but…!” “Where are you right now?” “At a b-bus stop.” There is a pause. “It says P53 on it. I-I’m in Greenriver. Next bus leaves in a-an hour.” Alyne does a quick check as the information is being conveyed. Absolute middle of nowhere. Toilet accessibility: zero. “Do you have a receipt of relief for the last time you urinated? If you do, take a photograph of it and send it as a message to this number.” This was the most important bit. “I… d-do.” There is some fumbling, presumably a bag. Alyne can pick up on the woman’s labored breathing and all the little vocalizations of someone who is at their limit she has gotten so very used to. Alyne has her email inbox ready, and doesn’t wait for confirmation from the woman. The message arrives. Redirected message 18:46. There is a voice behind Alyne. “Hey- um…” Erica, her coworker who was supposed to take over for her. The late relief. Alyne raises an open hand without turning around. If Erica had anything to say for herself, it would have to wait until later. Tomorrow, probably. Alyne was finishing this call, then heading home immediately. She opens the email message. Pretty unmistakable. A morning pee, at home. “And you have not peed since then?” “N-no…” “Have you had any opportunities to pee during the day?” “No, I-I’ve visiting an art exhibition for a university p-project. They didn’t have any toilets available. Then the first bus didn’t s-show up…!” In Greenriver? It tracks. “All right.” Alyne speaks slowly. “If you decide to urinate outside after this, you are going to be in trouble. But because you have spoken with a 030 agent and given the necessary details in advance, you are going to be in significantly less trouble than you would be otherwise. Do you understand what I am saying?” “I… Oh, please… T-thank y-.” The woman’s breathing becomes more rapid. “It’s the most I can do.” A smidge more than she should, actually. Encouraging public urination in any way, even indirectly, was not in her job description. “Ideally, try to hold on until you can pee where you are supposed to. Thank you for calling the oh-three-oh.” She ends the call. If the woman wets herself, she doesn’t want to hear it. If the woman squats and pees on the dirt, she definitely doesn’t want to hear it. She ends the call and turns around. Erica is standing there, sheepishly. “Um, I, sorry abou-” “Why are you not in a call? I’m leaving now, we can talk about this later.” Erica’s eyes go a little wide. “O-of course!” She hurriedly takes a seat. Alyne hurries out of the office, passing by the employee bathroom while she grabs her things. She clicks her tongue disapprovingly, she would never consider using the bathroom at work unless she was seconds away from wetting herself. Then, she starts heading outside. Traffic home better not drag.
030 - The Other Other End ”You’ve reached Oh-Three-Oh, the Public Urination Prevention helpline. How can I help you?” This was Felica’s second month working at the 030 call center. Today, there was just one problem. Felica desperately needed to pee. She’d been getting through call after call helping other desperate individuals over the course of her workday to the best of her ability, and at this point it was getting to her and her full bladder. “S-so, well, we’re stuck in an elevator…” Felica shifts in her seat. The woman on the other end sounds worried. Her voice is oddly familiar, but that kind of déjà vu was actually quite common in this line of work. Focus on the call. “And, er, I assume someone needs to, urinate?” “Y-yeah. There is a woman with me and she’s very desperate.” “How long have you been stuck for?” Felica regrets it as soon as she speaks. That was a question potentially worth knowing the answer to, but there were a lot of other things she should ask before that. Her own need isn’t helping with her concentration, either. “We both live in this building, and both of us entered the elevator already desperate to pee. I have reason to believe she will wet herself very soon.” The caller answers the question Felica should have asked, instead. “Got it. Do you know if she has a receipt of relief for the last time she urinated?” “I’ll ask.” Felica is curling up in her seat. She shoots a glance back towards the employee bathroom. She’d come to work with an already fairly full bladder after an early dinner with friends, thinking she could easily make it through her relatively short afternoon shift and until she got home. She had been grossly overconfident. Using the toilet at work was so expensive but she might have to do it. Felica snaps back to the call. The caller still hadn’t returned to her, though she thought she could make out a sob. What was taking so long? She rocks uncomfortably in her chair while biting her lip. Imagining what was happening on the other end wasn’t doing her any favors. There’s a conversation. Felica can make out “No, you have to do it.” from the caller and “I can’t!” from someone else. Were they having trouble getting the receipt? There’s a heavy sound, like a thud, and then some rustling. Somebody is breathing heavily. Then, suddenly…! There is the sound of pattering, splashing onto a metallic surface. “Ah, ah, no, ahh,!” The voice is distant, drowned out by the freshly produced waterfall on the other end of the line. Felica brings the volume of her call down. Way down. She shoots a panicked glance towards the bathroom while twisting her legs together twice over. Unfortunately, she needs to stay on line until she can resolve the situation, and she obviously can’t mute the call completely or else she won’t be able to tell when the phone gets picked up. For almost a minute, the unbearable sounds keep coming through. Even with the volume set to low, far too much of it is coming through to Felica. Wherever the phone ended up, it must be in the perfect spot to pick up the ongoing accident, as the stream hitting the hard elevator floor is all Felica can hear. It’s excruciating to listen to, running water was already hell but there was some unmistakable quality of desperate urination to this particular sound. Occasionally, a heavy breath, sob, or trembling moan will make it through as well. Felica was at her wit’s end when someone finally picked up. “H-Hey.” It’s a different voice. The woman who just wet herself? “O-oh, um, hello. What just happened?” “I wet myself… I-I’m really sorry… I was so desperate I just c-couldn’t take it at all. I tried, I really really tried. Please…” “I see. Do you have your receipt of relief?” Having turned up the volume of the call, Felica can hear the occasional drip of liquid hitting the floor whenever nobody is speaking. Her legs have still not untwisted. “I-yes… How do I send it over?” “Just take a photo of it and send it as a message.” Felica was stomping her feet and biting her lip. Hearing an accident that vivid had brought her over the edge, she needed to finish this call ASAP or else she was going to start peeing onto the floor. After a few moments of squirming and refreshing her inbox, the image shows up on Felica’s end. Felica does a quick scan. A few hours ago, in a home toilet. The woman’s or someone else’s? The caller must have been filling up pretty quickly to become desperate enough to wet herself again after five hours, considering the woman’s capacity seemed good. It- “Guh-” Felica’s bladder spasms. Okay, speed it up. “G-good. I can see the receipt. You’re going to be fined for wetting yourself, but I’ll do what I can to reduce it given your unfortunate circumstances. Is that alright?” In reality, Felica was supposed to get more information when something like this happened. How long had the woman been stuck in the elevator, had there been any reasonable opportunities for relief, et cetera. A reduced fine might not even be warranted, depending on the circumstances. The information she had gotten so far was really the bare minimum, but Felica needed to shave seconds off this call. A fumbled IPU report beat peeing her pants. “U-ah, yes, of course, I…” The woman sputters for a bit. “Thank you…” “I’m just doing my job. Is your friend in need assistance as well?” Felica isn’t even sure why she asked. She shouldn’t have. She really really shouldn’t have. Her bladder was currently making it very clear that she could not sit through another call. “Oh, yes I’ll, I’ll check.” Felica can hear the two conversing, though she doesn’t pay attention to what they’re saying. She’s on the edge of her seat, ready to leave as soon as she’s permitted. The woman returns. “She, she says she’ll hold it in until the elevator is fixed.” Ohthankgod. “Ah, ah yes I see. If it seems like she is at a risk of wetting…” Felica swallows “-wetting herself, make sure to call again. Thank you for your cooperation.” She ends the call and pushes herself out of her chair. “Oh god, oh god, oh god…” Felica mutters under her breath while rushing for the call center bathroom near the exit. She’s putting on quite the show but fortunately all of her coworkers are too occupied with their own calls to pay her much mind. Vivid images of sitting on the toilet and peeing are playing in Felica’s mind. It hits her that every single phone call she hurries past have people just like her on the other end, frantic for a bathroom. In some cases there may be people peeing, or wetting themselves, on the other end of the line. And no matter how she tried to suppress it, she could still recall the sounds of the woman in the elevator peeing on the floor. It was getting to her so, so bad. “Ohh, no no no no no…” Felica is stopped dead in her track as a shockwave of pressure hits her bladder directly and travels up her spine. She shivers and can’t protect herself from a big leak, soaking her panties in an instant. She gasps for air as panic sets in. She can’t move at all. Another big leak, now running down her leg inside her trousers, saturating the front. She pushes through, bolts, throws the door open. She’s inside. Felica practically jumps out of her pants and ruined underwear, kicking them aside as she digs her slender fingers into naked flesh, practically plugging herself shut for the final few steps. She feels another shiver coming, and can practically feel herself pushing against her overburdened liquid reservoir. She grits her teeth in pain, hard, and her eyes almost roll back from a sudden and intense desire to void herself where she stands. She takes the last few steps, straddling the toilet while facing it. And then she opens herself up. Release. “A-ah-ahhh…” Felica’s pee travels straight downwards, her stream heavy but unfocused. It thunders into the porcelain basin under her. Her stream stops, briefly, but she is nowhere near done. “Uhn-ah, ahh. Ahh!” She has to steady herself as a pinpoint stream suddenly arcs out of her, nearly hitting the lid. The pressurized stream keeps up for a few seconds, then transitions back into the heavy downward stream. “Oh- mmh, oh god…” Felica's many noises are not fit for polite company. If someone were to hear this through the door, Felica would never hear the end of it. Never ever. It’s like she had any control over it though, the pressure draining from her bladder felt so unbelievably good, like she was melting into the toilet. She slumps over the toilet as the last drop leaves her, panting. There is an all-too-familiar whirring sound as a socket to the side of the toilet prints out a scrap of paper. Felica goes wipes herself up to the best of her ability and goes to get it. God. This is why nobody ever used a bathroom at work. At least she got her money’s worth – if she’s ever taken a sixty-dollar piss in her life this has got to be the one. She goes to get her discarded clothes. Sixty dollars for a pee… The lady in the elevator would probably be fined for less assuming Felica didn’t screw her over with her report. She wouldn’t, though, obviously. It would be wanton cruelty and might get Felica in trouble if a complaint came in and her own negligence was discovered. Her panties were unusable, but at least her pants weren’t so wet. After rinsing and wringing them out over the sink, she wraps them in a lot of toilet paper and stuffs the panties in a pocket. It wasn’t the best, but it would do. She makes sure to get the receipt of relief as well. You never knew if you might need it…
Hello once again reader! This story is the result of an art trade between myself and @Tentacool, where he wished for an omo story set in a fantasy time zone. I'm not the most adapt at fantasy, but I gave it my best shot and I don't think it's half bad! I hope you enjoy it! And fear not, I will not forget about the backlog of my other stories as well! Your feedback and support is so very much appreciated! -Orion The Green Dam and the Water Golem Prologue Nestled in a valley was the Kingdom of Aragoza. A kingdom ruled by humans that was a melting pot of different races and beings. A prosperous, peaceful kingdom that is the product of centuries of brutal war and conflict. The valley before those times was one of an uneasy peace, segregated into their factions of their brethren. The human population in what is now the capital, Arasootas, was always a marginalized and struggling people in between the dwellings of the various races of Dwarves, Elves, and the Dragonborne. With little magical power or brute strength like many of the other races, humans had to tread lightly in their small numbers to avoid even a small conflict they were hopeless to win. However, a population boom and rapid innovation of the humans allowed them to thrive, and eventually establish a military presence. A tyrannical leader rose to power and popularity, and sought to take control of the valley for their own intentions, including annexation or removal of the other factions. The rapid growth and military expansion of the self-proclaimed Xander Dynasty (named after the mentioned dictator) resulted in a military force unlike the valley had ever seen, with advanced weaponry, armor, and tactics that stood up to the strength and magical power they had lacked. A quick dispatch of a small army of orcs by the military was a successful campaign; with the consequence of the complete annihilation of their race. The message was clear: Join us, or die. Seeing the atrocities before them, the other races grew worrisome and then angry, each declaring war on the Dynasty. Centuries of on-and-off conflict persisted between the humans and the civilizations of the other races. Despite the death of tyrant leaders and the eventually fall of the dynasty into a more democratic constitutional monarchy, the animosity of the factions was still palpable. War continued to rage on, atrocities committed on both sides, and as the men and resources depleted on both sides, the supernatural factions agreed on an alliance, and sent a final hail mary to end the war once and for all. It did, however, result in a resounding human victory. The newly founded Kingdom of Aragoza annexed the regions of the supernatural and continued to expand, growing its influence as it opened connections within its borders and integrated the races it ruled over. Despite the takeover, the new Kingdom displayed much more graciousness than its tyrannical past, still claiming ownership and power over the regions, but allowing them to live in freedom, and integrating into their new society. While their populations thinned and weakened, the races slowly recovered their numbers and way of life, but some argue still live under the yoke of the kingdom, hoping for true independence. But for now, peace is the order of the day, the kingdom is a place of equality, with neighborhoods and niches for everyone, sharing their cultures and language and embracing each other as if they are their own. None is a greater example of this explained in the capital, where everyone from the humans, dwarves, elves, dragonborne, and everything in between mingle and work together. However, farther along the valley exists a dense forest, difficult to navigate and serves as the only point along the valley that serves as access to the outside world by land. The kingdom had long wished to clear the forest to improve access to the outside world, however this forest and the caverns and cliffs around them were the territory belonging to goblins. The Goblin race remained in the shadows during the time of war, and remained within their territory, looting the occasional traveler or lost soldier. They had no desire to participate, and neither the humans nor the supernatural alliance wished to have them on their side, as they were considered a treacherous and slimy group. When the word to clear their forest trickled down from the Kingdom to the goblins, the Goblin Kingdom immediately grew defensive and thwarted advancements of Aragoza by attacking their surveyors. Thus began a cold war between the smaller Goblin Kingdom and the giant Aragoza Kingdom. Negotiations always went poorly with little progress being made for years between the two sides. While the Kingdom of Aragoza could snowplow the Goblins with their military, the Queen of Aragoza and the royal family wished to improve their aggressive reputation by suing for peace. For years, an unsettling anxiety throughout the Kingdoms rang as peace between them began to strain. Chapter 1 It was until one Summer’s morning, where our story begins. The goblin Queen Caelus, awoke as if it were any other morning. She yawned, her stout, shortstack frame stretching to greet the day. Her large pointed ears perked up, hearing the wisp of the wind gently sway the trees seen from the opening in her mountain castle. Her long, flowing purple-gray hair accentuating her nude body (goblins don’t wear clothing in their sleep), her soft and squishy body that had a noticeable bulge in her abdomen. Like any other morning, Queen Caelus always had an urge to relieve herself, just as anyone else would in the morning. The queen had a strong bladder, and loved to drink the various nectars and juices from the fruit of the forest, or even better, the alcohol looted from the occasional traveler. Being a goblin, her skin and body was stretchy for the sake of resilience, allowing, in combination with her large fluid consumption, to produce a hefty bulge in her abdomen nearly every day. Still, she felt quite an urge to pee from holding her contents all night, and made her way to her chamber’s washroom, her bladder, along with her thick thighs, curvaceous rump, and bountiful bosom, to jiggle and wobble as she strided. The washroom was nothing but a small room with two buckets, one for relieving in, and one filled with fresh spring water for which to bathe herself, fetched by her royal underlings. Like any other day, the queen squatted over her bucket and relaxed her tense pelvic muscles, ready for the small ocean of piss inside of her to go shooting out as the mass in her belly would slowly diminish. Only, neither of those things happened. Odd… The queen squatted harder, actively trying to push out her liquid burden. Nothing. She strained her face, and bit her lip, trying to expel her contents. Still nothing. Caelus was perplexed, and considerably worried. Was she sick? She forgoed the bucket and instead elected to squat further to pee onto the stone floor, now desperate to relieve herself. Despite all her strength, her urethra would not open despite all the force and liquid coming down to force it so. Panicking, she called out to her underlings, and urgently requested the appearance of the Kingdom’s goblin doctors, which by human standards, were not quite doctors at all, merely those experienced in the art of trial and error rather than medicine. The doctors sat down Caelus on her bed once again, and performed a matter of primitive procedures on the poor Queen, from trying to “push” the piss out by squeezing her bladder, to having her legs pulled back to her feet over her head, to attempting to stick small rods and pulling open her urethra as she pushed, all with no results, her desperate urethra even refusing to open at all, as if it were sealed tight. With nothing left to try, the doctors simply suggested that it will go away with time, which the Queen worryingly agreed, going on with her day with an uncomfortable but manageable load the entire time. The day passed, every few hours the queen attempted to relieve herself to no end product, and continually being told that the effect is temporary and just be patient. Nighttime rolled around, and she uncomfortably rolled into bed, tossing and turning with a throbbing, bloated bladder. The next morning and the day thereafter was much the same, and then the next day, then the day after that, and after that, until a whole week had passed until she simply could not take it anymore. Her belly looked pregnant, perhaps beyond that, as her skin stretched and swelled to contain such a large amount of boiling, sloshing pee. It had gotten to the point where her normal clothes had simply gotten too tight and small to fit her figure. She scolded the doctors and demanded a new solution as opposed to just simply waiting. However, her closest advisor and friend, Paiko, stepped forward. “Aragoza. They could help us.” The queen was detracted from her ranting to hear her out. “How would they help me? They are our enemies, why would they help us?” “Please, Caelus. It is worth a try. Or do you wish to continue this discomfort and hardship that faces you every day, and will only get worse?” Her advisor belittled, accentuating her point by sticking a finger into the stretchy bulge of piss. “Nnngh!” The queen recoiled. Seeing no other option, and utterly desperate for some form of relief, she conceded. “Fine. I don’t have much hope, but these numbskulls aren’t going to get me anywhere.” She shot a glare at the trio of doctors, avoiding her gaze by looking at the ground or whistling, gazing at the ceiling. And so later that day The queen and Paiko departed their beloved kingdom with a group of Goblins to carry her highness's royal carriage, which was more like a makeshift horse cart. Goblins, even goblin royalty, were not picky regarding aesthetics. The trip would take about two whole days, two days of torture to the queen as the beaten roads and paths bumped and rocked the poor cart and transitively her poor bladder. Each bump sloshed her tank’s content’s back and forth, putting pressure on every part of her poor body, with no way of relief. Even more tortuous was the bathroom breaks her escorts were taking, freely lifting their loincloths and peeing into the wind, sighing in relief as their queen looked beyond envious. Paiko took pity on her, trying to limit the restroom breaks herself in an attempt to be sympathetic, but she reached her limits very quickly, and sheepishly excused herself various times to what was some very well-needed pisses, herself moaning in pleasure after holding as much as she is able to share the queen’s misery. While the gesture was admirable, it did nothing to help her situation. Her stretchy composition luckily lent her well, but while she was not in any fear of physically or metaphorically exploding, her discomfort beyond comparison, as well as the bulge in her stomach as well. Perhaps a comparison could be made to a pregnant belly once more, but this was one that was nine months pregnant with triplets and quadruplets, if even that. And near the evening of the second day, the lights of Arasootas came into view over the edge of the hill, the brilliant, progressive, inclusive city shining like a beacon. A shiver went down the Queen’s spine, not just from the creeps and shivers her bladder was producing, but also in anticipation of the reaction of the people of the kingdom. The goblin kingdom was not very popular, to say the least. Would they even bother to help? Would they attack them on the spot and hold her hostage? The queen’s gut told her that this was a bad idea, going through the various probable scenarios as to what would happen upon approaching the city’s gates. But that feeling in her stomach was wildly superseded by the feeling in her bladder. Desperately looking for relief and help, she had to reach out to her kingdom’s rivals. She wearily looked at the massive city as her carriage approached the gates, her bladder churning its balloon of urine, her poor body nearing its incredible limit. To be continued.
Chapter 2 The cart creaked as it went up the cobblestone path to the walls of the great city. Caelus once again looked up in equal parts amazement and anxiety. The walls of Arasootas stared down the lowly queen, dwarving the tallest oak trees she had come to know in her forest. The two sentries came forward, spears drawn, and Caelus could notice some of the stern eyes of more soldiers peering down at them through the balistraria, ready to draw their weapons and pounce on the goblin escort. The sentries approached the cart, and calmly yet assertively addressed them. “What is your business, goblin?” The first one asked. Paiko spoke upon the queen’s behalf. “Sirs, we are the royal highness of the goblin kingdom, and we have come to Arasootas because we have an urgent matter that requires meeting with your highness.” She said nobly. Paiko was one of the very few goblins that could read and speak decent English, having read and studied human literature and customs from books looted from passing travelers. She spoke with dignity, but the characteristic goblin “hiss” still accented her noble voice. Caelus could also read and write English as well, and could articulate just as well as Paiko could, but she understandably turned away, hiding behind her long white hair, and tried to conceal her tremendous bulge, to no effect. The two sentries looked at each other, and seemed to have a conversation without words, by using slight head movements and signals with their hands and eyes. They took another step closer, their weapons drawn on the escort. “We’re going to need more details than that, goblin highness. You of all people must understand that we can’t allow any goblin refugee into the city without justification, let alone meet her majesty the queen. Even if you are goblin royalty.” The guard sneered. Paiko grew agitated. Her queen and friend in considerable pain and stress, there was no time to spare quibbling over politics. “I don’t have to answer to you our cause for coming here. Our reasoning is strictly royal business, only matters to be discussed with the Queen of Aragoza!” The sentries furrowed their brows, the tension between the two groups increasing. The second sentry whistles, and from two doors beside the grand gate to Arasootas, a small brigade of guards emerged, wielding their spears, and surrounded the royal carriage. The goblin escort nervously backtracked, as the spears steadily grew closer to their flesh. Paiko was furious. “By the gods, let us in! We are not to be barred by the likes of you! We have a critical issue that we must discuss with her majesty!” Queen Caelus, fearing a battle with her kind right then and there, finally spoke up. She pulled Paiko on the shoulder, and immediately she looked back at her queen, only to realize the needless situation her anger had put her in. “P-please, guard… I am her highness… And our- my situation is dire. I have been cursed or somehow afflicted with some illness that causes me great discomfort. All I ask is to meet your queen to perhaps remedy my condition… P-perhaps, when I am well, we can once again start peace talks between our kingdoms.” She shifted restlessly in her seat, as her poor bladder throbbed with need. The head sentry gave a hand signal, calling off the squadron, but still in an actionable position. “That was all the reasoning we needed, your highness. You should work on your partner’s communication skills, to avoid any future conflicts.” Paiko sheepishly looked away, ashamed at her blunder. “Of course, we cannot simply grant you entry given our state of affairs. I will have my best runner send a message to the royal court pleading your case. I cannot guarantee your entry, but our Queen is a considerate one, even to a rival.” The guard stood proudly, as he and the rest of his squadron stood in their military stance. “T-thank you guard… Your understanding is greatly appreciated.” Caelus sat back in her seat, relieved to avoid a deadly confrontation, but that would be the only relief she would feel. For the next hour, the Queen and her escort stood idly, waiting for the return. The wait was Caelus’ own version of hell, as her bladder seemed to visibly swell and grow, now the size of a farmer’s prize watermelon, which for a goblin, meant that half the Queen’s size and nearly her entire weight was equivalent to her bladder’s mass. The Queen dressed as conservatively as she could; goblin royal attire shows much more skin and curves then human nobility, so she did her level best to not look like a harlot standing next to the human queen. Her condition dictated that her attempt to be conservative would be in vain, as her royal “dress” was a two piece top and bottom, with her skirt now riding below her bladder. She desperately tried to salvage her appearance with a white veil and some stockings to cover up her skin, but her illusion was transparent. And now, her condition was pressing hard on her bottoms, stretching the waistband of her small white frilly skirt. Goblin skin and figure can stretch magnificently, and their attire can usually achieve a similar effect, but time was ticking on her clothes that would leave her nude should they be shredded to tatters from a frothingily full ocean of piss; after all, goblins don’t wear undergarments. Caelus cradled her poor burdened bladder. Even her soft touch sent tingles and pangs through her body, and as the wind began to move in, Caelus could hardly even bear the crisp breeze on her stretched skin. By now, Caelus could not even reach around the globular mass in her abdomen to grab herself if she wanted to, her arms could not even reach. Luckily, if you can call it that, holding was not required even if the pressure on her urethra and bladder floor rivaled that of the deepest ravines in the ocean. Speaking of pressure, the Queen’s bladder puts a lot of weight on her lower bits, one of them being her reproductive organs. Goblins are one of the few remaining races capable of heats. A goblin summer was rather ripe with lovemaking and sexual promiscuity. Lovemaking sessions would typically last for weeks within the kingdom, sometimes upwards of a month. Of course, it was beginning to become that time of year, and not even the goblin queen was immune to her urges. Of course, Caelus had bigger concerns and sensations rather than her libido up to this point, but now, its need has begun to show itself more prominently on her voyage, and especially now. The queen had a host of pleasurable toys and occasionally goblin mates at her disposal, but here she had neither, and now she didn’t even have the reach to touch herself to relieve her carnal desires. What a cruel twist of fate. The queen bit her lip as her womanhood throbbed along with her aching bladder, hoping the feeling would pass before her juices would make a sticky spot on her seat, or a runoff down her thighs. “Caelus?” The queen stirred from her daydreaming and focus on her desperate need to answer Paiko. “Y-yes?” “I’m… sorry for my behavior.” Tears welled up in her poor friend. Paiko meant well. She was only concerned for her friend. The last thing she wished to do was create conflict between the kingdoms. “I got ahead of myself… And that guard was being a jerk…” Caelus quiveringily placed a hand on her dear friend’s shoulder. Despite her condition, Caelus was always grateful for what she had. For goblin royalty, her considerate and shy nature was out of character for a more greedy and impulsive goblin king or queen, but the change of pace was well-respected. “It’s ok, Paiko, I know you mean the best. Our patience and understanding will reward us, making demands or threats will only set us back. I’ll be ok… Just make sure you look after yourself as well.” Caelus said with the wisdom of a great druid. A single tear escaped Paiko’s eye, which she wiped away. She nodded in agreement. She reached over and gave her queen an awkward hug, doing her best to avoid any pressure on her repository of boiling piss as it swelled and churned. The head guard broke up their moment with an announcement. “My runner has just returned. The royal court will allow entry and assemble a meeting with you, on the condition that your escort and carriage remain out here, and under our watch. Only you and your partner are permitted entry. An escort of our men will take you to the castle.” Caelus and Paiko acknowledged him, and disembarked the carriage, Caelus taking far more time to do so as her round belly weighed on her, each subtle movement pounding her wall’s with sloshing urine. It was then where the royal guards could get a better look at Queen Caelus and her payload. Many gawked at her state, some whispering to one another and snickering. Caelus grew red from embarrassment from the extra attention. Well, red for a goblin, at least. A new squadron came through the small doors to escort Caelus and Paiko to the castle, many having a similar reaction to their squadmates. They stood in their escort formation, ready to take the Queen, finally, to her destination. A bell gonged within the castle walls, and the great gate of Arasootas finally began to creak open. Caelus gulped, the part she feared was past her, but there was no promise for improvement or release to her condition within this city, she could only hope for it. Her bladder swelled and ached continuously, her clothes were stretched and nearing their own limits. Caelus could only hope that the venerable royal court of Aragoza could look upon her with favor and assistance. She nervously watched the legendary gate that steeled the great kingdom creep open, hoping that the gate that was sealed away in her urethra could open as well with her visit.
Hooooooooly Shit. It's been awhile hasn't it? A lot has been happening recently in my life but it feels really good to be back! Now, this chapter has been in the mill ever sine chapter 2 was finished, but has been rewritten 3 times. My indecisive ass sometimes gets the better of me. But I'm glad to be moving along in the story, trust me, I have a ton planned from this point forward, so stay tuned! And I would very, very much appreciate sharing this piece to more hyper desperation enthusiasts or just people who might be interested in the story, getting more hype gives me more motivation! I'll try to be a bit more timely with further entries... Thanks again! And without further ado... Chapter 3 The huge gates of Arasootas creaked to a halt, now in their fully open position. Caelus, as directed by her escort, began to walk forward. Even the act of walking was beyond tortuous compared to the bumpy road and forest floor her carriage took her on. Each step forced her to knee her own bladder, as it sloshed up and down, her ball-shaped abdomen bouncing like a rubber ball on the ground. Caelus could thank the gods to be born a goblin, as her stretchy skin perhaps had saved her from literally exploding… for now. Even so, she could only be so grateful, and went back to cursing them for giving her this immense burden for seemingly no reason other than to see her suffer. Her only hope was the royal court somehow granting her asylum and relief, she remained hopeful, but extremely desperate for relief. Caelus wished she didn’t have to move, or at the very least, could shuffle, waddle, or inch her way little by little to the castle, which she could see in all its magnificence just by looking up. It was nested on a hill, with rich nobility and clergy developments surrounding its base. It is truly a castle worth its salt, but Caelus’ main concern is how far away. The guards in the escort seemed to have little care for her condition, and urged her to keep pace so as to not waste the time of the royal court who was waiting for her. At one point a guard even used the back side of his spear to spank Caelus’ rump in order to get her moving. It was by no means a hard one, but the impact sent motions and sensations throughout her body and her bladder. The act also reminded her of her escapades in goblin heat, where she would use her toys or get one of her men to wail on her ass until it was a bright red, being a pleasurable kink for the goblin queen, among other things. The walk through Arasootas began to draw considerable attention as the escort walked in the denser parts of town on the main road. Soon, people were lined up on the sides of the street, seeing the royal guards escort Caelus just as Caelus was escorting a great burden of her own. The townspeople began to gossip and murmur about what the presence of the goblin is doing here in the capital. Although it didn’t take long to find out what the issue was. Caelus’ humongous bladder bulge was impossible to miss, and her strained face and posture showed the immense pressure she was experiencing. The town began to gossip more, and eventually turned to snickering and giggling, as more and more of the capital heard what was going on and more began to join the path to see the goblin queen and have a laugh themselves. Eventually as they neared the castle district, the crowd grew from their own conversations and began to jeer and taunt the poor queen. Some swished large barrels of water and ale which Caelus could clearly hear, some, most notably girls, began to mock her by claiming to need to pee so bad they are bursting at the seams, and children even began to take melons from local markets and stuff them up their tunics and gowns pretending to have bulges of their own. Caelus was beyond mortified by all the attention, the entire capital must be here to watch her slowly and painfully trot up towards the castle. All the eyes were only making the pain and pressure in her bladder worse, as each joke and stare felt like daggers and sticks poking straight into her bloated behemoth of a bladder. Fortunately for Caelus, the escort reached the exclusive upper class district near the castle, where the nobility and clergyman within them had much better things to do than jeer at Caelus. An occasional glance or stare was witnessed by those passing by, but it was a great improvement from previous. Finally, after over an hour of walking, the escort reached the castle. Caelus was exhausted. The long walk was only exacerbated hundreds-fold by the weight in her abdomen, acting as a double of herself, constantly bobbing up and down and boiling with an ocean of piss. As much as she wanted to relieve herself as soon as possible, she also wanted to just lay down and rest. The escort approached the castle gates, and one had a brief conversation with the guard stationed inside, and opened the gate to let them in, and past a courtyard to enter the castle itself. There, the escort relieved themselves of their duties, and handed off Caelus and Paiko to the superior royal castle guards. They were led once again down a large elaborate corridor and finally into the royal court. A beautiful room, with chandeliers sparkling like diamonds, ornate woodwork on pillars supporting the ceiling of a piece where an Aragoza royal was conquering his enemies (very tasteful), as light from the tall, clear windows bathed the court in a natural glow. Off to the left of the court was a number of dignitaries of various race and class, all sitting like a jury waiting for a hearing. They talked amongst themselves and only a few even acknowledged the goblin’s entrance. They were motioned by an older elf with long, stringy white hair to take a seat in front of the large throne, which sat empty. Caelus scanned the various members in this “jury”. They were a mix of royal advisors and representatives of the various races assimilated into Aragoza. Dwarves, elves, a dragonborne, and even a gnome were amongst this group, and each had one or two assistants of dignitaries with them. One member that stood out among them. A human woman, or at least looks human, and horns on her head peeking out from black hair with streaks of blue that cascaded down past her shoulders and to her knees, which themselves were covered by fish-net stockings. The rest of her attire could only be described as risque, as a one-piece set used commonly for undergarments was all she wore, exposing her hips and behind much like a skimpy thong would, along with black leather straps around her ample bosom that strapped around her neck. Caelus also noticed this lady also had a bulge in her abdomen covered by the skimpy skin-tight fabric, nothing as large as the queen’s of course, but still remarkable as anyone with a bladder in that state would be beyond desperate for relief. Yet, the lady didn’t so much as even cross or press her legs together to show a sign of desperation. She caught Caelus staring at her and shot her a mischievous glare and a smirk to accompany it. A chill ran down Caelus’ spine as she looked down and away, and into the mass of flesh that was her bloated belly. Then, a group of maidens hastily walked in, clad in royal servant outfits, with an out of breath royal guard. "Ahem. Presenting your royal highness of Aragoza, Queen Ethel!" The royal court all rose to their feet and applauded the arrival of the queen. Caelus uneasily rose and clapped with them, the weight of her monstrous organ weighing down on her sphincter. Queen Ethel strode in the court, without the grace and beauty of a typical queen. The queen stomped quickly past her servant girls and impatiently took her seat on her throne, not even acknowledging her welcome. The human queen had skin of dark ebony tone, with angled piercing hazel eyes. Her frame seemed a bit bulkier than any ordinary royalty, it was clear she applied the same regiments to herself that she would to her army. Nevertheless, she was still on the shorter side, although no doubt still able to look down upon Caelus’ physically and metaphorically. Her royal attire was not one typical of royalty: she looked much more like a military general. She wore a chestplate made of solid gold, a treasure worthy of nabbing in the eyes of any goblin. Her tunic was ornate, draped in fine silk and designed with equal parts elegance and authority in mind. Her legs were clad in dark silk tights and combat boots more fit for an Aragoza soldier than the heels of royalty. Human nobles, let alone queens, generally had long, flowing hair; goblin royalty tended to mimic this trait, as bright, lengthy hair is a sign of good strength and beauty, even for goblins. Queen Ethel was different. She has something not dissimilar to a style a soldier might adorn. Her sides were practically cut to the skin, and the only fullness that was apparent was on top of her head which had light curls of her jet black hair. Her head was accentuated with a modest but no less opulent tiara, which seemed a tad crooked even to Caelus’ eye, perhaps in the queen's haste to prepare for the meeting. “Let the meeting begin.” Ethel said harshly, clearly short on patience. She draped one of her legs over the other casually as she pulled out her chestplate and handed it to a maiden. Caelus opened her mouth to speak, but was brutally cut off as a member of Ethel’s jury stood and spoke. “Your highness. I regret to report that the canal’s of Aragoza are starting to dry up even more than we had anticipated. Our prediction that our rivers will last until the next month seem more and more optimistic. Recent estimates suggest that there will not be enough fresh water for the citizens of Arasootas by the end of next week.” Caelus groaned. Surely her predicament should precede any interior affairs! Caelus felt disrespected, but dared not to raise her voice. And about water troubles, no less. Caelus squirmed in her seat at the mere mention of the clear liquid, making her tens- no, hundreds of times more aware of her bladder’s bursting burden as it throbbed nearly every second. Queen Ethel seemed just about as annoyed at the news. She shifted her legs again. “Ugh… Not this again. I had really hoped we’d receive some decent rain by now. Can we consider importing fresh snow from the peaks around the Village of the Dragonborne?” Ethel once again adjusted her posture, clearly feeling some form of discomfort. Hmmm, odd. A dragonborne member rose from the stand. “We’re willing to do all that we can, but I’m afraid the frost of last winter was not very good. We’re unsure how much we will be willing to provide.” Caelus never had seen a dragon-kind so well spoken, they all seemed like scaly brutes, but she supposed he was in the Queen’s cabinet for a reason. Nevertheless, the conversation pestered Caelus’ bladder continuously, her bladder aching and pushing down on a hole that refused to open, the pressure enough to drive her crazy, yet she stayed vigilant. As much as she could, at least. The affairs dragged on for another hour, an agonizing amount of time as Caelus desperately wanted to, and considered, shouting out her desperate condition as she felt she was far more entitled to the attention than issues regarding taxes, infrastructure improvements, trading tariffs, and land grievances. Yet, despite her wishes, she remained in control of herself and her emotions. She was a queen after all, even if it was the queen of goblins. Caelus just focused her attention on the Queen, and tried (and failed) to sit still as her bladder sent pulses and shivers through her entire body as her monstrous organ in her swollen abdomen could not be tamed. However, she was able to keep her mind somewhat off the matter as she noticed the deteriorating comfort of Queen Ethel. The original discomfort she felt seemed to grow more and more persistent as she crossed her legs, to tapping her toes, to pressing her legs together, to squirming altogether. It doesn’t take a genius, much less a goblin, to realize that Queen Ethel has become more and more desperate for a trip to the bucket, or in her case, an actual loo. Caelus could even get faint glances of a bulge just beneath her tunic when she occasionally sat upright as she cycled through her postures to try to get more comfortable. Quite ironic, Caelus thought to herself, given her current situation, and how the delay in the proceedings was taxing on both sets of Queens. Finally, the last jury member sat and Ethel turned her attention to Caelus, her narrow eyes staring at her with impatience. “Now, what does this gobbo want?” Gobbo?... Was that an insult? Or is that what her kind is referred to here? She didn’t give it a second thought, more pressing matters needing to be attended to. She uncomfortably began to stand to address the human queen, her abdomen weighing down like a huge boulder, and it was very upset at the action of standing up, as it convulsed and threatened to burst through a damn which for some Gods-saken reason refused to concede, let alone a single leak. “Y-your highness.” Caelus spoke with a stutter, partly from how desperate she was, but also just from her nerves. Nevertheless, she tried to speak as eloquently as possible, quite unlike a goblin to be sure. “I come to you with an urgent need. I want to put aside our differences as I have nowhere else to turn to and the Kingdom of Aragoza is my only hope of relief of this burden I carry.” Ethel scoffed. “Well, it seems that the latest line of Goblin royalty is a bit more well spoken than the last. I’ve been told your kind are brutes, ones who could barely speak cohesively. It’s nice to see a change of pace. Continue with your plea, goblin.” Caelus had to badly hold her tongue. While there wasn’t anything particularly untrue about her statement, the dismissal of her royal status was enough to infuriate her. Nevertheless, she was in no position to anger the Queen, so she conceded to her submissive role as a subject lesser to Queen Ethel, which is what she intended. “Thank you, your h-highness. A week ago, I had to… relieve myself in the morning, much as anyone else must.” Caelus felt her face get warm in embarrassment. Talking about problems at the loo as a royal felt incredibly shameful, but she carried on. “I was unable to that morning, for whatever reason. A-and I was unable to every time I attempted to relieve myself every day up until now, a week of holding my liquids… Yet I am physically unable to find relief in any capacity. T-this is my plight, and I have exhausted all my options and am incredibly desperate to piss. I come to you because I need relief, please! Every second my bladder aches with the need to release my waters! Help me! I do not know what is wrong with me!” Caelus said with complete desperation in her tone, her condition starting to get the better of her as she could feel every single drop drip into her gargantuan bladder. Caelus braced herself for the humiliation she was going to receive from the human queen, seeing that she is much more likely to take amusement on her plight rather than pity. However, Queen Ethel sat in her throne, her face flushed of color, and seeming very, very, fidgety. Perhaps Caelus' description was vivid enough to trigger her own need for relief. Ethel squirmed and clutched her own ball of urine nestled tightly under her tunic. She raised her hand from her crotch to speak. "T-that sounds like quite the predicament, Goblin Queen…" Ethel stammered. "This is something that needs to be addressed… A-after a short recess." Queen Ethel bit her lip, returning her hand to secure her bladder once more. Caelus' was mortified at the prospect of having to continue to wait for relief. She could feel it being painfully close now that Ethel has insinuated helping her, literally. Her bladder ached and pained at the motion of having to wait even longer for any form of release, or at least, without information as to what to do. “Please! Your highness, I can’t bear this burden in my bladder any longer! Please don’t make me beg for relief! I need to know what’s going on!” Caelus cried to Queen Ethel, tears in her eyes and sloshes in her bladder. The Queen gave her a nervous, yet still stern, glare. “I-I will not be interrupted! This meeting has gone on long enough, and a break is in order… ohhhh~” Ethel stated, stifling a clearly desperate moan. She rose to her feet, ready to begin her descent off her throne. She began to take her first step, when… Psssssssssshhh… A quiet trickle sounded throughout the dead quiet throne room, and a twinkle of light began to glisten on Ethel’s legs, reflecting off of clear urine snaking down her thighs and forming a small puddle on the floor and darkening her dark tights. Poor Queen Ethel could do nothing but enjoy her clear needed relief, but was absolutely humiliated to piss herself in her royal court. The quiet hiss rang out through the court as it slowly got quieter, the human queen averting the gaze of her subjects. Caelus herself was flabbergasted, seeing anybody, much less the Queen of Aragoza, completely powerless against her waters was a sight quite unprecedented. Her mischievous goblin nature tempted her to laugh or tease the poor queen, however Caelus’ own bladder registered more of reaction of disgust and jealousy, as it cringed and convulsed at the sight of the Queen’s wetting of her royal dress. The pressure was intolerable, and the goblin’s pussy pulsed with need from its urethral opening. How badly Caelus wished to be in Queen Ethel’s position, even if it meant humiliating herself in front of her peers! “Guess you couldn’t hold it again, eh Queen?” said the skimpily-clad women from the jury. Queen Ethel snapped back from her relief, which had now only trickled to a few drops, making ripples in a small puddle. “I… I don’t want to hear it, Baris! I’ve already embarrassed myself enough, I don’t need your heckling.” Baris rolled her eyes. “Even for being cursed, your bladder should still be more than capable enough to hold through a royal court briefing.” She scoffed. “A queen should have the ability to hold just as any lady should: long enough to properly and elegantly relieve herself in private, rather than make a fool out of herself by dancing and squirming all over the place, and then piddling a puddle on the floor. Take a page out of that goblin queen, or your’s truly, for example!” Baris roughly patted her own swollen abdomen, no doubt full of her own waters ready for release, yet she didn’t even flinch at the abuse she gave herself. Queen Ethel abashedly turned away with a scoff. Baris turned to address Caelus. "You'll have to excuse her highness. She's been having… "issues" with her potty discipline." Ethel, mortified, snapped back. "Stop calling it that! Y-you know I can't help it!" Baris rolled her eyes. "So you claim. Curse or no curse, a queen should be able to hold her liquids!" Caelus was perplexed at what was going on, the topic of discussion not giving her any peace in her mind over her throbbing bladder. "Curse?" the goblin queen asked quizzically. "Ah yes. Let me fill you in, Queen Caelus." Baris sprouted wings and gusted over to Caelus. "Ah!" The swift action of Baris swooping over to her would have spooked her, enough to have her leak a dribble from her bladder in its state, yet she couldn't even if she wished for it. "Baris, I hardly think now is the right time or place to-" "A little past a week ago, our queen started having some 'restroom troubles'." Baris ignored the commentary from her queen and cut her off, leaving Ethel to stew in frustration. "Our poor queen found her holding abilities not as they used to be. She would find herself scrambling for a chamber pot after not even a half hour after her last use. And even so, she would piss like a horse! We were baffled that not even after a small goblet of water or royal wine the queen would be squirming, hobbling, crossing her legs and clenching her crotch like some desperate peasant waiting to use a communal outhouse." Baris shot a devious glare at Queen Ethel, which was met by an equally intense stare of disgust and disapproval. "A… curse? On her bladder?" Caelus questioned, trying to put the pieces together. "Precisely. In fact, based on your account and your… figure:" Baris giggled, to which Caelus began to feel warm in the face. "It seems you've been put into a similar predicament. Or, well more like an opposite predicament because you physically can't pee and Ethel can't hold to save her life…" Caelus' eyes grew wide with worry. "Are you saying I'm cursed as well?!", she interrupted with alarm. She tensed up in fear as her already fried nerves began reacting to the news, recoiling her poor bladder with even greater feelings of pain and discomfort. "Don't panic. Let me see your hand and I'll know for sure." Caelus hesitantly laid out her palm, to which Baris grasped with her left hand. "Close your eyes and try to clear your mind… Otherwise things might get weird." Baris spoke softly. Caelus did as she was told, the best she could, at least. A single thought and feeling roared through her head like a typhoon's tide: an ungodly, burning, throbbing need to urinate. Caelus whimpered from the pain she experienced, feeling very much in touch with her body and the immense burden that burns within her swollen, boiling, sloshing abdomen. "It is alright. Everything will be okay." Baris spoke smoothly and softly, while placing a finger on Caelus forehead while still grasping her hand. As soon as she did, Caelus felt a tingling numbness wash over her from head to toe. Miraculously even her gargantuan bladder seemed to have its pain dulled as Caelus achieved a form of peace. She could cry from the relief, even if she was no longer in control of her body or perhaps even conscious, the immense pain, weight, and burning need Caelus felt for so long around her urethra was no more. The bliss Caelus felt was unlike anything she had ever felt before. The reprieve was short lived however. Baris released her grasp and her finger off Caelus' forehead, and the poor goblin queen was snapped back into a conscious state. Caelus could feel her bladder inflate with gallons and gallons of boiling piss as the immense pressure returned once more. The weight of all that liquid returning was enough to disrupt her balance, as she fell backwards and fell directly on her thick rump. Before laying on the court floor in a dazed state, groaning in pain and discomfort. Her bulge sloshed and bounced with the liquid inside her bladder as she slumped to the ground. "Caelus!" Paiko came to her queen's aide, making sure she was alright. "She'll be fine. But she is cursed alright." Baris confirmed. "H-how so?" Paiko stammered. "I checked her body for magic, and it seems her bladder and urethra are both full and engulfed in cursed magic. The urethra with the Curse of Sealing, and her bladder with the Spell of Expansion. They're pretty straightforward." Baris replied while inspecting her nails. Paiko looked down on her poor queen. Cursed, how horrible! Who could do such a horrible thing? "What… what do we do now?" Paiko pleaded. "Well, we have a few clues… for one, both the goblin queen and her highness Queen Ethel were both targeted in their urinary system. A very peculiar thing to curse, let alone twice to two different people." Baris stroked her chin, and placed a hand in her crotch to nurse her own bulge, but more so to adjust her risque attire. "What's more, these spells or curses are simple ones to perform on inanimate objects and lesser animals, especially the Curse of Sealing. On humans or higher beings however, this would need to be a very advanced magic or sorcery user. And on a goblin…" Baris looked troubled as she thought out loud. "What about a goblin? Is there something special about Caelus being one?" Paiko questioned. "Goblins are naturally resistant to magic, if not outright immune to some spells. For someone or something to curse the Goblin Queen, it would need to be a very, very proficient wizard or witch. One that would be far stronger than myself or any of the magic users in the kingdom." Murmurs and whispers sounded around the royal court, all sounding very concerned and fearful. "I suppose our fears have been realized then, Baris? Is someone or something plotting against the Kingdom of Aragoza?" Queen Ethel finally spoke up, seemingly overcoming the shame that preceded her now very wet royal uniform considering the gravity of the situation. "It seems so, your highness. But this goblin queen may serve as an important clue as to who or what our opponent is." Baris responded, much more formal to her queen than before. "Very well. We shall use the Goblin Queen's assistance as we see fit to uncover this mystery, all the while assisting her in her own efforts to relieve her poor burden." Queen Ethel spoke with authority. Paiko objected. "You're just gonna take her? How do we know you won't kidnap her or something like that!?" She crossed her arms in a defensive pose. Ethel snickered but addressed her. "You have my word, as Queen of Aragoza, that no harm will come to your Queen while she is in our Kingdom." "Hmmmm. I want to be by her side anyway, just in case." Paiko put her foot down. Ethel relented, but saw no reason to bicker over these terms. "As you wish. We will have accommodations for you as well. Your escort, however, will have to return to their kingdom. We have no room nor will tolerate a military force within our Kingdom, no matter how small." "Deal." Caelus entered her small dorm that she would be residing in during her days at the castle. It was hardly the royal suite that Queen Ethel may have access to but it was clean and had a window; she could hardly complain. The room lacked its own lavatory, not that Caelus would be needing it or the common restroom down the hall, as much as she badly, badly wished she could. It had been a long day. First the traveling, then the entrance into the city, then the court meeting, and finally a dinner after being brought to full consciousness after her fall, before being whisked away to her room, with the promise of investigating her cursed organs the next day. Such a long and grueling day would normally be justified with a long, relaxing piss into a latrine, but Caelus would not have such a luxury. She could barely make it through the doorway to her room, her bladder bulged and throbbed and sloshed with liquid as it extended several feet from the rest of her. Caelus imagined that carrying an adult goblin in her abdomen would bulge out less than she has now. All this weight was absolutely tiring, even more so after a good meal in the royal dining hall, where Caelus was welcomed to various delicious meats, wines, cheeses, breads, and sauces. Despite her desperate state, Caelus indulged herself: this food would be the best food she would have past the scraps she ate in her kingdom by comparison. She commended her race's resourcefulness, but left a bit to be desired in the taste department. Caelus stripped herself of her strained, practically ripped garments to get ready for bed. A sticky residue came off her underwear, as she sighed in sexual frustration. Beside being in heat, the queen made sure that guests were entertained and serviced by plenty of good looking servant girls and boys, of which Caelus noticed a fair few tickled her fancy. Yet, even if she could reach around her massive bladder to her throbbing, desperate clit, she was practically too exhausted to masturbate. Caelus had been aware of the idea of a food coma, but she felt so unnaturally sleepy, something felt a bit off. She shook off her doubts, and slumped into bed as her bladder painfully sloshed around, before dozing straight to sleep, with hopes and dreams of being relieved sooner than later.
I've never posted any of them before, but I've actually written a bunch of short Omo stories, and one very, very long Omo story that has taken me years and that I hope to one day release. It's 12 chapters so far, probably 2/3rds done, with a detailed world and character development and all that, and it's very important to me. This is none of those stories. I wrote this in about 2 hours. I did not worry about character development or concern myself with writing a unique story. What happened is basically, after @KimAustad's request for hypnosis stories, I ended up writing a scenario for her, and then found that I had some lingering 'hypnosis on the brain' that I needed to unload. So, to try something different, I wrote this, proofread it once, and I'm posting it here before I can stop myself. This is chapter 1 of however many chapters i feel like writing about this character. Maybe it's the only one. Have fun. The boy leaned in close to the fire for emphasis, letting the flames cast what he imagined was an eerie light over his face. When he continued speaking, it was the same grandiose, conspiratorial murmur that he had been putting on for the last ten minutes. “You know, the government already has the cure for cancer, they just won’t share it because it doesn’t make enough money.” Claire rolled her eyes. Whatever opinions she might hold about the dubious morals of late stage capitalism, she hardly found it likely that the cure for cancer was languishing for lack of a monetary incentive. “You really think so?” asked her friend Amanda excitedly. Claire winced. Amanda was a lot less discerning than her, prone to believing almost whatever nonsense someone suggested to her, as long as they said it with conviction. “Absolutely,” the boy nodded fervently. “They figured this shit out in the 1950s, with sound wave therapy and that kind of thing. But if it won’t sell, they won’t let doctors prescribe it.” Sighing, Claire pulled out her phone, and started browsing idly through social media. She enjoyed going out to parties as much as the next person, but when it came to these tedious conspiracy theories, she couldn't help but get exasperated. How were people this stupid, even now, in the 21st century, when anyone with a brain could look things up on the internet and determine whether they had even a shred of real evidence to support them? Maybe it was narcissism, or maybe it was just true idiocy that allowed people to talk themselves into this garbage, and not stop to question why no one intelligent agreed with them. Claire had been raised to question things that have no evidence, like conspiracy theories, and religion, and believe in the things that did, like science and technology. She also believed in structured, empirical debate - the cornerstone of the career in law she dreamed of one day pursuing - and so had no patience for the free-form rambling of stoned college sophomores. “…And then, when doctors get too close to finding the truth, the government sends hypnotists to make them forget what they’ve learned!” Claire couldn’t take it. She had to say something. “Seriously? Hypnosis? Are you hearing yourself right now?” she asked incredulously. Some of the people around the fire chuckled. Apparently, hypnosis was a bridge too far for a number of them too. The conspiracy boy was unfazed. “Of course. Hypnosis is real. Haven’t you ever seen the videos?” Claire snorted. “I’ve seen videos of charlatans with eager volunteers who want hypnosis to be real, yea. Anyone will pretend they’re a bird if you get them up on a stage and pump them up a bit.” Her opponent was gearing up for a response, but before he could say anything, a new voice spoke up. “Well… That’s not real hypnosis, but hypnosis IS real...” A small, dark haired boy with gloomy eyes was sitting near the back of the circle, looking almost surprised to hear his own voice. Claire recognized him from some of her classes, but she didn't know his name. She turned to him instead. “What does real hypnosis look like then? Because I’ve never seen it.” The boy looked off to the side nervously, but he stuck to his story. “It’s complicated… I’m not going to tell… these people… but I could show you… if you want.” Even in the dark, Claire could definitely see him blushing. Was this just his fairly sad attempt to get her alone to talk to him? She supposed he was kind of cute, in a nerdy way, but not someone she had ever had any interest in talking to. His face was always buried in a laptop, and she doubted he had much experience talking to girls. “What’s so complicated about it?” she asked him bluntly. “Why can’t you just show everyone?” The people around the fire looked at him expectantly, and he looked at his feet uncomfortably. “It needs to be one on one… If there’s too many people, it won’t work,” he explained, quietly. Claire cringed. “I’m not going to go do ‘one on one’ hypnosis with you, sorry. You realize how creepy that sounds, right?” The boy stared at the ground, looking chastised. But just when it looked like that might be the end of it, Amanda piped up. “I could come with you!” she yelled excitedly. “Then it won’t be so awkward!” An enthusiastic smile was beaming from underneath her button nose. Claire just groaned. Unsurprisingly, Amanda didn’t seem to know the definition of ‘one on one.” Apparently, it wasn’t that important though, because the boy perked up. “Actually, that might work… You could at least come and witness it… I have to get my laptop out of the car though…” Claire couldn’t believe it. Was she really getting roped into this? She could see Amanda brimming with excitement, and knew she was stuck. Once Amanda got this worked up about something, she always made it happen. Sighing, Claire stood up from the circle. “I’m going inside then, I’ll meet you there.” And so, after a few minutes, Claire, Amanda, and the black haired boy found themselves holed up in a small, dark guest bedroom, barely large enough for the three of them, ready to experiment with “real hypnosis.” The boy, who’s name, it turned out, was Collin, fumbled with his laptop, while Claire sighed with boredom. The decor in the bedroom was tasteless and moldy, with blankets that had probably been passed down for several generations, and a forgotten portrait of some catholic saint or another adorning the peeling wallpaper. It would have been unbearably awkward if not for Amanda’s clueless exuberance. “This is so exciting! My cousin was hypnotized once. A magician had her come up on stage, and he swung a pendant and counted down from 10, and then she said she couldn’t remember. But apparently she danced a perfect salsa in front of everyone!” “Amanda,” groaned Claire, her head in her hands. “Even Collin already said that that’s not real hypnosis. Your cousin was just really into the magic show.” “But she didn’t know how to dance salsa, and then she did!” To Claire’s relief, Collin interrupted before this debate could really get going. “Ok… sorry it took so long, I had to log in to my VPN and get Tor set up… But it’s ready now.” Over his shoulder, Claire could see a forum page that looked straight out of 2006, almost illegibly formatted with dark text over dark backgrounds. An image of something vaguely spiral shaped was opened up in one corner. She was starting to get an idea of what was going on now. Collin must have gone down some deep web rabbit hole, and ended up convincing himself that THIS was the true hypnosis, and now he was going to try it on her. There was a brief silence. “So… Are you going to hypnotize me or what?” “What should be the goal for the hypnosis?” asked Collin. “I don’t know,” grumbled Claire, “can’t you just make me think I’m a cow or something? Get some good moos, and Amanda can take a cellphone video, and we can get on with our lives?” Collin shook his head. “No… no, it’s much harder to get people to actively DO things… with real hypnosis, it’s easier to get people NOT to do things, if that makes any sense.” Amanda was hanging on to every word, but Claire was nonplussed. “No, not really. Have you actually done this on anyone, anyway?” “Only my sister…” “And what did you make her do - er, not do?” Collin smirked. “I got her to stop being so mean to me. She doesn’t even remember being hypnotized. Basically, I just had her forget how much she hates me, and she stopped being such a bitch.” Unbelievable, thought Claire. Absolutely insane. Collin’s ‘proof’ that hypnosis works was that his sister was being nicer to him? She would have been nicer to her brother too, if she had one, and he was so desperate for attention that he was resorting to hypnosis. Still, she decided not to say anything, and just get this over with. Besides, Amanda had clearly not had the same reaction, because she was staring with rapt attention, eyes wide underneath her strawberry blonde curls, knees bouncing up and down like crazy. “Amanda. Amanda! Can you stop fidgeting like that, you’re shaking the bed.” “Sorry,” said Amanda. “You know me, I get excited and I can’t sit still!” “Well, control yourself. How am I supposed to be hypnotized if I’m experiencing a localized earthquake?” “Sorry,” said Amanda again. She crossed her legs tightly. Claire groaned. “Do we need to stop while you go pee?” Amanda blushed. “I can wait. You don’t need to ask me that all the time, you know.” “Oh please. I’ve known you your whole life, I know the signs.” Collin looked on with raised eyebrows, looking somewhat flabbergasted. Claire figured that this conversation was probably not what he imagined banter between college girls to center around, but Amanda was a special case. Claire supposed she should stop embarrassing her friend, but then again, it was Amanda’s idea to even be here, and when she thought about that her sympathy vanished. She turned to Collin. “She’s always been like this Collin, she gets distracted, and then she gets stubborn and then, well, I’ll let you guess what happens next.” Amanda looked at her furiously. “Shut up. It’s not my fault I have a small bladder.” Claire smirked. “You’re also 20. When are you planning to finish potty training, age 30?” “Shut UP!” “Ok,” Collin said nervously, “you two have some things to work out… but we’re supposed to be figuring out a prompt for hypnosis.” “Why don’t you hypnotize Amanda instead, and try to help her remember to go to the bathroom more often,” Claire said, with an evil grin. The whole thing was so stupid at this point, she couldn’t even pretend to take it seriously. “You heard what he said, he can’t make people do things they don’t know how to do.” Amanda interjected angrily. She turned to Collin. “I know, can you make it so that Claire always forgets to go to the bathroom when she has to pee? Then maybe she'll have some sympathy.” Claire burst out laughing, but Collin frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea… that could really be a problem for her…” “No, it’s perfect,” giggled Claire. “I bet even hypnotized I’d have better bladder control than Amanda.” Collin looked hesitant, but Amanda had fire in her eyes now. “Bet. Well, you heard her. Do it! Or are you scared it won’t work?” Even though his biggest supporter was now turning on him, Collin tried once more to inject a note of caution. “It’s a funny idea, but… I don’t want to do anything mean… if she starts having accidents, it will be a real problem, and I don’t want to be responsible for that.” “It’s not going to be a problem,” Claire snorted, “because hypnosis is fake. So go ahead, show me your spiral jpeg or whatever and let me out of this dusty room.” Whether it was because of Claire’s repeated disparaging of hypnosis, or Amanda’s badgering, Collin finally relented. “Alright, everyone calm down. We need to create a soothing, peaceful environment, or it won’t work. Claire, try to stop laughing, Amanda, try to stop fidgeting.” It seemed that now that it was finally time for the hypnosis, Collin was finding his confidence. He indicated to Claire that she should lie down in bed, and told Amanda to go stand in the corner. Once the girls had done as they were told, he placed the laptop down next to Claire’s face, with the spiral graphic blown up to fill the screen. “Ok. Make yourself comfortable. I want you to take deep breaths, long and slow, and keep doing it until you feel your heart rate dropping. In the meantime, work on emptying your mind. We are going to enter your subconscious, and rearrange it.” Claire did as she was told. Even though she didn’t believe in hypnosis, intellectual rigor demanded that she give it the fairest attempt possible. “Good, Claire, good.” Collin leaned over, and pressed something on the laptop. The spiral image, which had previously been stationary and kind of stupid looking, started to oscillate, waving and shimmering in and out. It didn’t even look much like a spiral anymore - the colors were changing too, and Claire couldn’t take her eyes off of it. Somewhere, she could hear Collin’s voice droning on, but she didn’t know what he was saying. After an unknown amount of time, he came back into focus, and the tone of his voice had changed. “You are staring down a long, dark hallway. There are doors all the way down, but we are not going to open them yet. When I say so, you can begin walking, one foot in front of the other. We are going to make our way deeper into the recesses of your mind. You don’t need to be afraid. Are you ready? Good. Let’s go.” The bedroom was gone. Amanda seemed to have disappeared. All that Claire could see was a long hallway in front of her, and there was nothing to do but begin to make her way down it. “You’re doing great Claire. We’re getting very deep now. Let’s open up the door on your right and take a look. Are you ready? Good.” Claire opened the door, and strode serenely inside. The room was infinite in size and complexity. Tall, black boxes with innumerable wires going in and out of them stretched beyond the horizon, with flashing lights occasionally blinking on their faces. She wandered over to one of them, inspecting it curiously. Then, without thinking, she grabbed one of the cables hanging down, and ripped it out. “Well done, Claire. That was very good. You’ve removed one of the connections between your brain, your bladder, and your higher reasoning skills. We’re going to be here a while, because there are a lot of these, and we need to find all of them. Do you think you can do that?” Claire nodded enthusiastically. “Very good Claire… Very good.” Claire’s body lay motionless on the stiff mattress for a long time, while the Claire inside her head wandered around, slowly deprogramming the inner workings of her mind. By the time she was done, and the bedroom started to come back into focus, Claire had no idea how much time had passed. Amanda was still standing in the corner, chewing on her fingernails, eyes as wide as dinner plates, and the spiral image on the laptop was just a spiral again. Claire blinked, trying to shake the cobwebs out of her eyes. A sliver of drool had wet the pillow beneath her, and she wiped her chin off quickly, embarrassed. No one seemed to know what to say. “Did it work?” asked Amanda, finally. Claire looked at Collin, who shrugged. “We won’t know if it worked right away. She needs to get a full night’s sleep and let her brain process the rewiring.” Amanda looked a little deflated, but Claire felt her confidence start to come back. It seemed that Collin knew how to run a good meditation, because she had really been out of it for a moment there. But now, when asked for real results, he was stalling for time. Claire, still feeling relaxed from the trance, decided not to be mean. “I guess we’ll just have to see,” she said patiently. “Thanks for trying, it was… different, if nothing else.” With nothing else to do, the trio exited the bedroom. Amanda made a beeline for the bathroom, while Claire waited outside. She didn’t really need to go herself, not like Amanda, who she figured would probably have peed her pants if the hypnosis kept going much longer. Instead, she grabbed a glass of water. She’d had a little vodka earlier, not much, but she didn’t want any kind of a hangover. The party was winding down, and once Amanda was done, the two of them started heading back to their dorm. “So did you get hypnotized?” asked Amanda eagerly, now that Collin was gone. “I don’t know,” said Claire, truthfully. “Probably not, because hypnosis is fake. But it was pretty relaxing.” “You were totally out of it,” said Amanda breathlessly. “Like, you were barely breathing even. You didn’t move like forever.” “I guess,” Claire admitted. “But that’s not hypnosis necessarily. I mean, I never said meditation wasn’t real.” “You don’t know if it was hypnosis or not,” Amanda chastised her. “Collin said we wouldn’t know until tomorrow.” “Right,” Claire laughed. “Well, I’m going to bed. I can at least get a good night’s sleep out of this while I’m still all hypnotized or whatever. Maybe Collin should try working with insomniacs, I’m exhausted.” “Wait, Claire,” Amanda stopped her, biting her lip, a look of concern on her face. “Yea?” “Do you think… maybe… should you get some diapers before class tomorrow? You know, in case the hypnosis worked.” Claire looked at her in disbelief. “Amanda. Seriously. Listen to yourself. I’m not going to need diapers. Where would I get diapers anyway? It’s the middle of the night.” “Oh.. yea… Well, you should set an alarm to remind yourself to go to the bathroom at least.” Claire opened her mouth to argue, then stopped. There was no helping some people. “Sure Amanda, good idea. I’ll do that.” She was definitely not going to do that. The two girls said goodnight, and Claire was asleep before she hit the pillow. The next morning was Monday, and Claire’s first class, The Physics of Sound, was bright and early at 8:30. It seemed that the effects of the hypnosis had lingered, because Claire’s good night’s sleep had been a little too good. By the time she woke up, she was running uncharacteristically late. Speeding around her dorm, she collected her books, threw on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, ran a comb through her straight brown hair and hopped on her bike. She figured she had just enough time to swing by the cafeteria for a cup of coffee, plus one to go. But she was not quite right about that, and by the time she walked into the lecture hall, class had already started. Her professor glared at her disapprovingly and she performed the walk of shame over to her seat. “Well, now that even the less punctual among us have decided to grace us with their presence,” he griped sarcastically, “we can hopefully discuss the properties of sound waves without any more distractions.” Claire blushed. Her professor was being melodramatic, but she prided herself on being punctual and organized, so his words still stung. Stupid hypnosis, she thought. It seemed like the only thing it had accomplished was the minor annoyance of putting her behind the 8-ball to start her Monday. As the lecture got going, Claire forgot completely about hypnosis, lateness, or anything else, and focused on sipping coffee and taking notes. The class wasn’t something for her major, but it was an engaging enough topic, and Claire always took her studies seriously. Her mind was totally consumed with sine waves, and the velocity of sound through different mediums, and the frequencies of different overtones. The only thing that was odd was that she was unusually fidgety for some reason - maybe that second cup of coffee had been a bit too much, and the caffeine was hitting harder than usual. She’d been so groggy from oversleeping, and eager to shake herself out of the funk, but now she was crossing and uncrossing her legs, bouncing up and down, playing with her hair… She was reminding herself of Amanda. She even caught a few people glancing in her direction. Frustrated, she straightened herself out, took a deep breath, and focused back on the lecture. After class, she could get some water, and have some food, and that would probably dilute the unruly concentration of caffeine. Plus she could take a walk and just try to burn off some of this energy. It was a little past the halfway point in class when something happened that, in retrospect, made the fidgeting make a lot more sense. Claire didn’t really know what she was feeling at first. It seemed to be getting very warm between her legs, starting from her underwear, quickly enveloping her butt, and then surging along the bottoms of her thighs. Had she spilled her coffee? No, the coffee was still on her desk, and it was empty anyway. She looked down, staring in puzzled disbelief at the stain actively spreading across her lap. The hot liquid was running down her calves now. A trickling sound was coming from below her, as the liquid overflowed the bench and splashed onto the floor, drawing the eyes of classmates nearby. One of them covered her mouth in shock. Only then did it dawn on Claire what was happening. If there was a playbook for how to react to suddenly discovering that you’re wetting yourself in class, Claire had never studied it. She let out a loud, involuntary yelp of surprise, drawing even more eyes, and grabbed herself fiercely between her thighs, clenching at the soaked denim with desperation and causing the stain to grow even larger around her hand. It was both ineffective and far too late. There was no stopping her bladder until it was empty. Still actively peeing her pants, Claire flung her books into her bag in one motion and just ran for it, a dripping, headlong dash for freedom, ears ringing and cheeks blazing. She didn’t stop until she had reached the bathroom, where she flung herself down on the toilet, ripped off her pants, and… nothing, really. It was all over. She hadn’t even been close. Claire was too shocked to cry right then. She wiped herself automatically, flushed the toilet, and pulled her pants back up. Her jeans were so thoroughly soaked that at first, the drips down her legs made her think that she had started peeing again. There was no point in trying to dry herself off, or wasting any more time in this bathroom. With her brain in crisis mode, Claire quickly realized that the best she could do was head back to her dorm as quickly as possible, before the first block of classes ended, and even more people saw her. Tying her sweatshirt around her waist, she scurried outside to her bike, leaving wet footprints along the way, and slung her saturated legs up over the seat. As she pedaled, her mind was blank, too traumatized to properly consider what had happened. More students pointed and whispered as she passed, on the street, and then in the hallway to her dorm. But it was all a blur. Reaching her room and slamming the door behind her, she peeled her jeans off like clingwrap, toweled off her legs, pulled on a pair of pajamas, flung herself into bed, and finally allowed herself to cry. Edited January 20 by bestrapperalive (see edit history)
Chapter 2 is here, a lot faster than I anticipated. The positive feedback induced me to run with it more enthusiastically than I had planned. I also made some tiny edits to Chapter 1, but I only mention that because one of them was to tease the fact that Claire wants to go to law school after she's done with undergrad, which will probably come up throughout the story, and is referenced by Amanda in this chapter (this kind of retrofitting is why my 'omorashi novella' languishes until i can finish it 100% - it's hard not to write yourself into a corner and want to go back and change or tweak things - On the flip side, for this story, having the major plot points set in stone as I publish them constrains me from overthinking the plot going forward). Chapter 2 deals with the internal fallout from Chapter 1, and focuses on Claire trying to process what's happening to her, Amanda trying to help with that, and Claire continuing to experience unexpected issues. Chapter 3 will involve Claire starting to actually try various ways of diagnosing and coping with her situation, will almost certainly dip a toe into ABDL (but just a toe!), and will feature the triumphant return of Collin. Enjoy, and be sure to let me know if you like it - like I said, the feedback makes it worthwhile. Claire had only just about finished crying when her phone started going off. She tried to ignore it at first, not wanting to engage with this new world in which she was known for peeing her pants in class, hoping that if she never left this room again, she would never have to accept that as reality. But that couldn’t last forever. Figuring she would just turn off the phone if it was too much to handle, she reached over for it and pulled up the notification screen. She had 4 missed calls and a double digit amount of texts, almost all of which were from Amanda. Oh my god Claire, I just heard what happened!! Are you okay??? Claire? Claire?? I’m going to call you, hang on. Did you get my call? Are you there? Did this message send? Are you at your dorm? I’m going to skip class and come over if you don’t answer soon. That last text was only a few minutes old, so Claire quickly typed out a response. I’m fine, go to class. I’ll talk to you later. This was, of course, more or less a lie, but Claire didn’t feel ready to talk to Amanda yet. Something was wrong with her, but she didn’t seem to be having a medical emergency, and there wasn’t anything Amanda could do to restore her shattered dignity. The last thing she needed was to have Amanda swooping in trying to save her before she had even had time to process things on her own. Deciding that she’d wallowed enough, Claire got out of bed, threw her pissed jeans into an otherwise neat pile of laundry, walked down the hall to the washing machine, and tossed it inside. From there, she went on to the shower. As she stood in the bathroom waiting for the water to heat up, she stared closely at her naked body in the mirror, wondering what on earth was going on beneath the surface. Her olive green eyes were red from crying, but other than that, she looked the same as ever. Her long brown hair was still tucked neatly behind her ears, flowing down around her square face and past her bony shoulders. Her full lips were still just a few degrees removed from what would be their normal confident smile. She ran her hands over her smooth skin, cupping her breasts, feeling her stomach, touching between her legs, feeling for… what, exactly? Was she expecting some random swelling, some telltale rash, some (ugh) unnatural discharge that explained why she was suddenly pissing her pants without realizing it? The now scalding water made her flinch as she stepped into the shower, finally washing away the tracks of dried urine down her legs. Claire tried to think back to the moment it had happened. She remembered the caffeine - the extra caffeine she’d had to shake off that stupid hypnosis fog. It had clearly been affecting her more than usual, since she’d been physically shaking, although she wasn’t sure exactly how much that was connected. The weirdest thing was still that she hadn’t realized she needed to… go, until she was already going in her pants. Nothing like that had ever happened to her before. Nothing like that ever happened to anyone, at least not anyone healthy. Was it possible that she had a UTI? She’d never had one before, but that would make a lot of sense. What other things could cause incontinence in an otherwise healthy young woman? For a terrified moment, she wondered if she could be pregnant, but that wasn’t even close to possible, mathematically speaking. By the time she got out of the shower, Claire was no closer to a definitive answer, only a number of unsatisfying theories. Back in bed, wearing her comfiest pajamas and nursing a cup of tea, Claire closed her curtain, pulled out her laptop and begrudgingly started to research her situation. She had decided to skip her afternoon classes. Even if she didn’t know exactly what was wrong with her, it was clear enough that SOMETHING was wrong with her, and she needed a sick day to recuperate both physically and mentally. A few awkward, concerned texts had come in from people other than Amanda, which she had tried to handle as maturely as possible, saying that she was sick, probably a UTI, and that she’d be ok, and thanks for reaching out… Still, each clumsy acknowledgement of her incident made her want to die of shame all over again. It didn’t help that Google had already started serving her ads for adult diapers - a reasonable development, with her search history consisting of: What does a UTI feel like? Can a UTI make you pee your pants without feeling it? Peed my pants without feeling like I had to go Peed my pants without feeling like I had to go young woman Urge incontinence Overactive bladder Medication for overactive bladder Medication for UTI Home Treatments for UTI There were so many different variations on the same theme that it made Claire’s head swim trying to decipher between them all. What she had experienced was definitely more in the ‘urge incontinence’ category, although it didn’t fit as neatly as she’d like, with the ‘sudden and total flood’ as opposed to the quick onset of a need and then a smaller accident. Some of the possible explanations for this were so terrifying, she clicked away from them quickly, not wanting to let an isolated incident elicit a bout of hypochondria. Some of the explanations were more mundane, although not always in a reassuring way. Claire was a proactive person, but there was only so much she could glean from internet sleuthing. She needed a plan of action. Write to her teachers, take tomorrow off, and go by health services first thing in the morning. There you go, Claire said to herself. A well thought out, proactive plan to put yourself back in charge of the situation. Nothing to worry about. Even inside her own head, the words sounded hollow. Claire felt herself starting to get fidgety again, which caught her by surprise. The tea she was drinking was decaffeinated - she wasn’t going to risk any more caffeine today, after how things had started. She’d been sure to drink plenty of water - all the information she’d seen said that hydration was the best home remedy for UTI, along with maybe cranberry juice if she could get ahold of it. So why was she feeling like this? Maybe her stupid housemates had mixed up the decaf green tea with the regular, and the cup of soothing liquid she’d just consumed to relax was instead having the complete opposite effect. Wondering what else could go wrong, she flopped back in bed, and noticed that she’d missed a text. How are you doing??? I’m coming over, I’ll be there in 5 minutes. It was Amanda. The text was exactly 5 minutes old. There was a knock on her door. “Claire?? Are you in there?” “Yea… You can come i- “ Amanda had already burst through the door, a ball of reddish curls and concern, and was plopping down next to her on the messy bed. “Oh my god, you poor thing, I’m soooo sorry, did you forget to set an alarm?? I’m so sorry, this is all my fault, I didn’t think it would work so well!” “Amanda,” Claire said, bemused. Amanda looked like she was going to cry. “Amanda! Calm down!” Claire implored her. “What are you talking about?” A look of complete and total confusion replaced the guilt on Amanda’s face. “What do you mean what am I talking about?” “What do you mean, what do I mean? What alarm? What’s your fault?” Claire asked, annoyed. “Don’t you remember? You said you were going to set an alarm so you remembered to go to the bathroom before class!” Claire stared blankly at her. She remembered saying something like that to shut Amanda up, but she didn’t see the significance. “Oh my god Claire, do you even remember what happened last night?” Amanda gasped. “You don’t remember, do you?” Amanda seemed close to panicking, and looked as though she thought Claire might have suffered serious brain damage. “Can you PLEASE calm down?” said Claire, agitatedly. “Of course I remember. We went to a really lame party, and some lonely nerd tried to hypnotize me, but it didn’t work and just made me really tired.” “Didn’t - Didn’t work??” Spluttered Amanda in shock. “Claire, don’t you remember? I asked him to make it so you wouldn’t remember to go to the bathroom!” “And?” asked Claire. “And you peed your pants in class!” Claire winced, but still managed to snort. “Yea, and that sucked, thank you. But it wasn’t because of the hypnosis. Hypnosis isn’t real.” Amanda shook her head, a look of disappointed incredulity plastered across her earnest face. “How can you still say that, Claire? You were hypnotized to forget to go to the bathroom, and you peed your pants. How much more obvious can it get?” Claire frowned. “Amanda, we’ve talked about this. Correlation doesn’t imply causation.” “What, so it’s just a coincidence?” “Yes, it is literally exactly that,” replied Claire, with a hint of exasperation. “There are a lot of normal medical things that can cause… um, incontinence, without there needing to be a supernatural force involved. I’ll go see health services tomorrow, but I probably just have a UTI or something.” “Why do you think that? Are you having to go a lot? Does it burn when you pee?” Amanda, who was a nursing student, and who had also actually had a UTI asked shrewdly. Taken aback by Amanda’s relative expertise, Claire tried to answer. “Well… I never had.. Um, issues before. So a UTI is the most normal explanation why I would suddenly be having… you know… accidents.” “You didn’t answer my other questions,” Amanda replied, unimpressed. “Well… no, it doesn’t… burn… yet. And I…” Somehow, Claire couldn’t remember how many times she’d peed recently. She wasn’t used to being backed into a logical corner by Amanda, and found herself quite flustered by the experience. “Yea, thought so,” smirked Amanda. “I bet you don’t even remember the last time you peed before class.” Claire frowned. It was true, she couldn’t remember peeing before class. But she’d been running late. She probably just hadn’t needed to go, until the coffee and the UTI or whatever teamed up and caused the… situation. All at once, the combination of being lectured by Amanda and reliving the most embarrassing moment of her life overwhelmed her, and she found herself staring at her feet through moist eyes. A pathetic sniffle escaped her, then another, and a single, tiny trace of liquid rolled down her cheek. Amanda’s face softened. She scooched up close to Claire and pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry Claire… I didn’t mean to be impatient, you know I just want to help. I still think you’re probably hypnotized, but it makes sense to try to think of other explanations too.” “I just feel so STUPID,” Claire wailed miserably. “I just don’t know how I could let this happen, no one’s ever going to look at me the same way again, how is anyone supposed to take me seriously if they know I can’t even control my bladder? I mean - ” Claire choked apologetically, “I know you’ve had stuff like this happen sometimes, but you’ve never just totally… p- peed your pants out of nowhere in the middle of a lecture in front of everyone.” “Why wouldn’t anyone take you seriously?” Amanda asked. “This could happen to anyone. It’s not your fault.” “Who’s fault is it? No one else made me p-p piss myself.” Amanda opened her mouth to contest that assertion, then thought better of it. “Look, Claire,” she said softly. “I know it really hurts right now, but really, it’s a much, much bigger deal to you than it is to anyone else. No one else is even…” “Don’t say no one is going to remember,” Claire cut her off, disparagingly. “Everyone remembers this stuff, even if they say they don't. I still remember you pooping your pants, and that was kindergarten.” Amanda, her cheeks a distinct shade of pink, maintained her patience. “I wasn’t going to say that. I once had a boy who I didn’t even know come up to me in high school and ask me if I was the girl who pooped her pants in Mrs. Davio’s class. So I know that.” She paused briefly to let that unpleasant memory dissipate. “But this isn’t high school anymore. The people who saw you are young adults or adults. They’re here to meet people and try things and get an education. They literally all have better things to do than make fun of you, even if they wanted to.” “It’s not about whether they MAKE FUN of me or not,” Claire said, rolling her eyes. “It’s about respect. It’s hard enough to be taken seriously as a woman without also having to explain… whatever that was…” she trailed off miserably. “Fair enough,” said Amanda sympathetically. “But even then, it’s only like, 40 people out of 10 thousand or whatever on this campus who saw you… sorry, pee your pants, or 40 people out of, uh… one million or… one billion… Ok I don’t know how many people are in the United States but you get my point.” “300 million something,” Claire corrected her, managing a wet smile. In this time of great upheaval, it was nice to know she could at least still count on being able to correct Amanda about basic facts. “Yea, that,” grinned Amanda. “I mean seriously, in 5 years, what are the chances you even see any of these people ever again? And it’s not like there’s a question on the bar exam that asks ‘have you ever peed your pants? If so, instant failure, and also, straight to jail.’” Claire laughed. “Yea, I guess not, probably.” Amanda, sensing victory, pulled Claire into another hug, which Claire reciprocated gratefully this time. Her friend’s warm embrace and fruity smelling hair was soothing, if a little stifling, and she worked her way through the facefull of hair to let some of her tears dry on Amanda’s shoulder. “Anyway, it’s -” Amanda stopped talking abruptly. An odd look had come over her. Despite the lack of words, her mouth stayed hanging open, while her eyes slowly widened, as if she had just walked in on something unseemly, and was temporarily too stunned to function. She leaped back from Claire. “Claire! What the fuck!” “What?!” cried Claire, startled. Amanda was standing up from the bed, feeling around her butt, which Claire saw had a huge salmon colored wet patch adorning her otherwise pink jeans. For an infinitesimally brief moment, a smirk of schadenfreude tried to break out upon Claire’s tear streaked face. But then she followed Amanda’s eyes, which were now fixed upon her, specifically, the massive, rippling puddle she was sitting in, and she too leaped up in shock. Without the bed to absorb it, pee cascaded down her legs as she stood, quickly wrapping itself around her ankles and spreading eagerly out on the floor. Claire tried to stop it, but like before, it was hopeless - it just kept pouring out of her, almost as if her bladder muscles had already been abused to the point of complete impotence, and were now providing approximately the utility of a paper boat in a waterfall. This time she didn’t bother to run to the bathroom - she just stood there, stupefied, as her comforting plush pink and gray pajama bottoms turned a shamefully dark shade from crotch to ankle, and her warm, cute, fuzzy socks were transformed into cold, squishy, soaking rags. “Jesus, Claire! Why didn’t you say you had to go?!” yelled Amanda, having apparently forgotten about her belief in hypnosis in the aftermath of being peed on. “I don’t know!” sobbed Claire. “I - I - didn’t…” Tears streamed down her face unabated this time as she stood there, wet and quivering. “It’s ok,” said Amanda quickly, collecting herself. “Shhh, shhh, it’s ok.” She tried to pull Claire back into a hug without standing in her puddle, which, due to the size of the puddle, necessitated essentially dragging Claire into the center of the room. Claire didn’t resist, and, after several minutes of awkward, wet embrace, Amanda guided them towards the dry part of the bed to sit down. “We’re going to get you through this,” Amanda vowed. “I think we should go see Collin again, first thing after classes tomorrow.” Claire looked aghast. “No no no, no way, I’m not going to that kid and telling him ‘hey great job, you made me pee my pants all the time now, can you please help?’” “He’s the only one who might be ABLE to help!” Amanda beseeched her. “I don’t believe that for a second,” Claire snapped back, stubbornly. “I’m going to go see as many doctors as I can find, as quickly as I can find them, and they’re going to prescribe me antibiotics, or injections, or…” Her lip trembled. What if they couldn’t help? What if there was no prescription for what was happening to her? “You should do that,” Amanda replied soothingly, “and we should also go see Collin. But we can talk about that tomorrow. First, give me your phone.” “Huh?” Claire replied, although she handed it over without complaint. Amanda typed in Claire’s passcode, opened up the clock app and got to work, explaining as she went. “I’m setting an alarm, every day, for every two hours of time that you’re awake, to remind you to go to the bathroom. No, that’s too vague. ‘Go to the bathroom and pee in the toilet…’ Yea, that should do the trick.” Claire, who thought her pride could not possibly take any more damage, felt it reeling again. “Every two hours?? And what are those instructions? I’m not a toddler Amanda, I don’t need step by step instructions on how to go to the bathroom. What if someone sees these over my shoulder?!” “Yes, every two hours, and be glad I’m not making it every one.” Amanda chided her. “And yes, you do need step by step instructions. I’m not taking any chances here. Have you been to the bathroom a single time since the hypnosis?” “Yea, of course,” Claire snapped back, indignantly. “When?” “Well, I went to the bathroom after I peed my pants, obviously, and I went and took a shower when I got home. And, uh…” Claire trailed off. “Exactly,” clipped Amanda. “You won’t admit it, but you’re obviously severely hypnotized, and you can’t make the connection between having to pee and going to the bathroom until we reverse it. Unless you want to keep learning you have to pee when it’s already in your pants, this is the best we can do.” Amanda’s tone was firm, and she moved with ruthless efficiency. Claire, who had never let Amanda boss her around for even 5 seconds in her entire life, was stunned. Her protests were shot down one after the other, and the cold, wet pajama pants clinging to her pee streaked legs sapped her ability to resist. It was getting late. Amanda had done everything she could do for Claire, and Claire needed to wash her sheets before her mattress could soak up any more stale pee. She also needed to wash Amanda’s jeans, which, as a result of Claire, were too obviously peed in to leave the room. This left Amanda temporarily without pants, but fortunately, after some trial and error, a pair of Claire’s more stretched out sweatpants were able to fit around Amanda’s healthy but slightly more padded frame, freeing her up to leave the room without embarrassment. With both girls now wearing dry clothes, they shared a last hug, and Claire thanked Amanda for being such a good friend. Then they went their separate ways. Amanda, back to her dorm, and her normal, mostly dry life, and Claire, back to the uncertain wet nightmare that stretched out into an unknown future. Edited February 7 by bestrapperalive further very minor retcons (see edit history)
Chapter 3! I actually wrote most of this like a week or two ago, then had some stuff come up and had my interest stall a bit. I finally proofread it and wrapped it up and it's ready to go, with Chapter 4 following very soon. My promise of a return for Collin is going to have to wait till then- i exceeded my unofficial word cap before I had finished writing the events of Chapter 3. But he's a main character in Chapter 4 and beyond. This chapter contains what the more obsessive among us might consider a minor plothole. I've addressed it at the end. Of course, this is a story about hypnosis omorashi, so the plot is going to contain some liberties throughout. Enjoy, and if you have any thoughts, please leave a comment. Even just observations about the characters and story are fun to read. Buh buh buh, buh buh buh buh buh, buh buh BUH buh… The obnoxious, uplifting notes of something that sounded almost like a synthesized tuba looped mercilessly from the overburdened speaker of her Iphone as Claire shot awake, groaning. Who in the entire world other than Amanda would choose this abomination for an alarm tone, especially for the first thing in the morning? Grabbing her phone angrily, Claire skimmed past the words on the alarm (‘Go to the bathroom, and pee in the toilet’), flipped it off, and set a nice, normal alarm to wake her up 15 minutes later. She needed a second try at starting her day, one without tuba fanfares. For as devastating as yesterday had been, she had at least managed to finish it on a stronger note. Thanks (or, in her opinion, no thanks) to Amanda’s cheesy alarms, she had diligently used the bathroom more or less as instructed with no further incidents, and been able to channel the self confidence from that into writing vague but self assured emails to her professors, saying she was dealing with a health issue, wouldn’t be in class today, and would catch up with the notes they posted online and/or come by their office hours to see what she missed. She had been nervous about needing to compose a slightly less vague email apologizing to her physics professor, but she needn’t have been - despite his toadlike grumbling about her lateness, he had already written her a very sympathetic email advising her to take as much time as she needed and telling her not to worry about anything. Lastly, she had sprayed down her mattress with gratuitous amounts of fairly aggressive cleaning spray, dabbed at it with every towel she owned, put a fan on it, and eventually flipped it over, putting the evidence of her second incident, at the very least, out of sight and out of mind. Claire could at least count herself lucky that this was happening to her when she was almost 21, living in a single room in a larger dorm, rather than a prior year when she would have had to deal with hiding from or confessing to a roommate. At any rate, the room still smelled somewhat sterile when her 15 minute alarm went off, and prompted her to make a more sincere attempt to start her day. Claire meandered into the kitchen, refilled the empty glass of water from her bedside, heated up some oatmeal in the microwave, and made some coffee. When she sat back down at her desk to eat, she noticed that, even though she’d barely started her coffee, her leg was bouncing up and down involuntarily, that same twitchy anxiety that had been plaguing her for the last 24 hours. Apparently, for all her resolve and planning, she couldn’t shake the effects of the stress she was under. At least she could comfort herself with the thought that - BUH BUH BUH, BUH BUH BUH BUH BUH, buh buh BUH buh Claire swore, reached for her phone, and accidentally knocked it under her bed, forcing her to listen to another 10 seconds of tuba while she crawled after it. Goddamnit Amanda! There was no way that had been two hours, in fact, she knew it to have been exactly 30 minutes. Triumphantly getting her hands on the phone, her eyes narrowed on the text of the alarm. You probably ignored the first alarm, so this time, actually go to the bathroom, and pee in the toilet. We don’t want any accidents! ❤️ Hm. The annoying brass fanfare was right. She didn’t really need to go to the bathroom, but she couldn’t just start ignoring all these alarms, either. Hopping a little from foot to foot, she made her way down the hall, opened the door, and walked to the toilet, hand between her legs, for some reason. The sound of liquid hitting water forcefully started almost the instant her skin touched the toilet lid, and continued unabated for quite some time. It wasn’t until Claire went to pull her pants back up that she noticed something that made the blood drain from her face. Her purple hipster panties were dark and damp around the gusset, and had even left a small but distinct stain on the gray leggings she’d worn to bed. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Ok… Not a big deal. Pay more attention to the alarms next time, and you’ll be fine. She wasn’t going to let a small leak get her down. This was still a major improvement from yesterday, something that would have gone unnoticed if it took place in public. Claire knew that with her strong work ethic, impeccable planning abilities, situational awareness and knack for sticking to a plan, it was only a matter of time before she got the hang of managing these bladder issues. Besides, she’d soon have them taken care of medically. Then she could laugh at Amanda for jumping on the hypnosis explanation, and get back teasing her for her own shoddy bladder management. That was her outlook when she left her dorm for health services that morning, and that was still more or less her outlook when she arrived at the walk-in clinic in town a few hours after that. 2 hours later, as she watched the gloomy gray day fly by out the window of her Uber, she was feeling distinctly less optimistic. “You a student at the college?” Her Uber driver, a 40 something man with a cigarette laugh, asked, showcasing that special talent unique to cab drivers for being able to completely ignore the signs that their passenger doesn’t want to talk. “Mm,” Claire mumbled, as disinterestedly as she could manage. “Whatcha studying?” “Criminal Justice.” Claire felt the leering eyes of the driver sizing her up, and wished, for a multitude of normal and less normal reasons, that he would look at the damn road. “Oh ho! Ho ho, I better watch out! You might arrest me for speeding!” He waited for her to respond, and when she didn’t, tried a different tack. “Or are you the gal I’m gonna call after I get arrested for speeding?” “I’m planning to study law, if that’s what you’re asking,” replied Claire, coldly. “Oh ho ho ho!” wheezed the driver. “The next Kim Wexler! You know… Better Call Saul!” He took his hands completely off the wheel to make finger guns. Claire ignored him completely this time. She was actually a fan of the show, but there was no way she was giving this cretin even the slightest bit of encouragement. As dreadful as the one sided conversation was, Claire dreaded the conversation she was going to have to have at the end of the ride even more. But as the entrance to her university came into view, she steeled herself for the inevitable. The car came to a stop, and as Claire stepped out, she cleared her throat, and laid it on bluntly. “So… You should know, the reason I was at the hospital was because I recently developed an issue with Urge Incontinence. And I mention this, because during the ride back, I… Ugh… Peed. In your cab.” She was gratified to see, at least, that this revelation wiped the stupid grin off her lecherous driver’s face. “Oh,” he managed, gruffly, with no laugh this time. “Yea. So I’m going to tip you… 300 dollars. That should cover a detailing to clean the seat, plus the lost time, and I hope that I never have to hear about this or hear from you ever again. Ok?” The cab driver just stared. His brain was still stuck in a reboot - it seemed as though he was working through a combination of fury, pity, and severe sexual whiplash. Claire, who was not interested in seeing how these emotions resolved, booked it without another word. It was just in her head, but as she walked past the carefully manicured trees, distinguished buildings, and young people with messenger bags and backpacks, all of them seemed to shy away from her, recoiling from the boiling frustration that she felt must be scorching the very air around her. She had done one thing right - her leggings, which she had chosen for being the blackest pair of leggings she owned, more or less completely masked the fact that they had been peed in, and no one pointed or whispered as she passed. But that was a small consolation. She almost wished they would have, because she felt like she wanted to attack someone, something, anything to offload the anger she was feeling towards herself. How, HOW had she managed to pee her pants AGAIN, with alarms going off and with a day and half of evidence to teach her that she was not going to feel when she needed to go, and had to plan ahead? She didn’t even care about the stupid Uber driver, or the 300 dollars. Ok, she would have liked to keep the 300 dollars, but at this point, it was about more than just inconvenience or embarrassment. Losing control of her body was scary and embarrassing on its own. Was she losing control of her mind as well? These thoughts were pushed to the side somewhat when she discovered Amanda waiting outside her dorm, clutching a large bag and huddling against the side of the building to ward off the persistent drizzle. “Oooo thank god you’re back, I’ve been waiting here for like 15 minutes. Didn’t you see my texts?” “No,” grumbled Claire. She was not happy to see Amanda. It seemed to Claire quite thoughtless of her to show up here without permission, with no regard for her physical or mental personal space after a stressful day of embarrassing medical inquiries. Was this mostly because she’d wet herself, and would have liked to have been able to change, tell no one and let this particular misfortune stay her little secret? Yes, but that didn’t mean she was wrong. Begrudgingly, she unlocked the door, and Amanda scurried inside gratefully. The two walked to her room in silence, Amanda, seeming somewhat distracted, and Claire, contemplating the possibility of pushing her down the stairs, going to her room alone and locking her out. But ultimately, she couldn’t do it. They shuffled into her room together with Claire resigned to the inevitable. Once the door was shut, Amanda wasted no time. “So, how’d it go?” Claire flung her jacket into the corner with enough pent up frustration to make Amanda flinch. “That bad, huh?” Claire just glowered at her. She wasn’t going to speak to Amanda until she was wearing dry clothes. She tried to rip off her leggings and panties with similar vigor, but they were too wet, and she almost fell over trying to pull her feet through them too fast. “Oh, Claire,” sighed Amanda. “What happened? Did your alarms not go off?” “They went off,” said Claire, through gritted teeth, and in contradiction of her vow of silence, “when my Uber was about to pull up to take me to the walk-in, and then again right in the middle of seeing the doctor.” She stood there, naked from the waist down, glaring daggers at Amanda until she was embarrassed enough to look away. The nudity wasn’t embarrassing - the girls had seen each other naked enough times that Claire could have drawn a map of the freckles on Amanda’s upper thigh. Not only had they known each other since preschool, they’d roomed together their second year of college, before Claire ultimately concluded that they were too distracting to each other in close quarters, and decided to get a single for Junior year. But Claire had already toweled urine off her legs in front of Amanda once in the last 24 hours, and felt that it would be better for her dignity if she would at least look away this second time. “I’m sorry,” said Amanda, eyes glued to the ceiling in the opposite corner of the bedroom. “I should have asked you when you were planning on making those appointments before I set the alarms.” “It wouldn’t have mattered,” sighed Claire, defeatedly. “Can I ask what the doctor told you?” Amanda prodded, timidly. “You can ask,” said Claire flatly, pulling up her sweatpants. “The NP at health services sent me to the walk-in, and after I waited at the walk-in for like an hour, this useless guy basically just told me to do some kegels and fuck off. I had to have the most embarrassing conversation I’ve ever had with anyone, twice, and all I got was ‘kegels’ and a referral to a urologist who won’t see me for a month.” “Wow. That’s really it? Did either of them at least say what they thought might be wrong?” “The nurse was at least nice about it, but she mostly gave cop out answers saying they could do more tests at the hospital. At the hospital, I peed in a cup and he said I didn’t have a UTI, then basically just gave me some crap about how incontinence is surprisingly common in women, ignoring my actual symptoms and the fact that it just started happening to me out of the blue.” “What a jerk,” grumbled Amanda sympathetically. “I hate doctors like that, they think they know everything and their patients are just exaggerating, especially women.” “Total waste of time, and now I have to come up with a way to explain the insurance charge to my parents… Although I suppose once I see the urologist, it’s going to be kind of obvious,” Claire sighed. “Well, you don’t have to tell them the full extent of things if you don’t want to,” Amanda reasoned. She knew how Claire’s parents were. They tended to oscillate between emotionally distant and just kind of out of touch, until something set off red flags, at which point they became overbearing and controlling until it went away. “Yea. Well, I guess I’m back to square one. Maybe I do need alarms every hour,” Claire said, glumly. “Well, about that…” Amanda, who was still holding the large bag, put it down and went to take something out of it. “Don’t get angry, but I knew you would be too embarrassed and stubborn to buy these yourself, so I overnighted them on Amazon right after I left yesterday. I had a feeling that you weren’t going to get over hypnosis right away.” “Oh no,” groaned Claire. She knew what was coming, but when she saw it out of the bag, she was even more appalled than she expected to be. “Amanda, that’s like… a full on diaper! I thought it was going to be just like, disposable underwear or something, there’s no way I’m wearing those.” “You don’t have to wear them all the time! I just thought maybe you should wear them when you go out, or at least in class, just in case. And I’m sorry, but I didn’t really think anything less than this would be enough, after how much you peed last night.” Claire stared at the fluffy package in horror. “Look, I appreciate you trying to help and all, but there’s no way I’m wearing those, no chance. I didn’t think I could live with people seeing me pee my pants, but I KNOW I couldn't live with people seeing that I wear diapers.” "Why not?" asked Amanda, indignantly. "You've got a medical problem, in your own words. It's not like you're wearing them for fun... Not that there'd be anything wrong with that either." Claire shook her head. "It doesn't matter WHY I'm wearing them, Amanda. They're DIAPERS." If Claire thought this came across as a compelling argument, Amanda disabused her of this notion quickly. "So anyone who wears diapers deserves to be shamed, in your opinion?" she asked, eyebrows raised, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "I didn't say that..." "Then what ARE you saying, exactly? Because it sounds like what you're saying is that you can't stand to be in the same category as people who have to wear diapers because of some medical disability, and I'd like to know why that is." Amanda's passionate interrogation caught Claire by surprise, and she felt herself getting defensive. "I'm not saying there's anything wrong with wearing diapers if you need to. You know I have a ton of sympathy and respect for people with disabilities. I'm not judging anyone who has to wear diapers to deal with incontinence." "Right, sure, you're not judging them. You just don't want to be associated with them," Amanda replied, sarcastically. "It's not that I don't want to be associated with them..." Claire trailed off, distinctly flustered by now. "But you'd rather pee your pants than wear diapers?" "I don't want to do either! I want to figure out a solution to my problem, not treat it like a disability!" Amanda narrowed her eyes. "What does that mean to you, treating it like a disability?" "I don't know..." Claire shook her head. "Like, just giving up, having to accept that I can't do the things I used to do." "As the person in this room who has actually worked with people with disabilities..." said Amanda, crossing her arms. "I can tell you that their biggest problem often isn't even their so-called 'disability.' It's people like you acting like their lives are over just because of some limitation that, in many cases, isn't a real limitation for any reason other than the way people treat them." Claire knew, on some level, that Amanda was right, and felt somewhat chastised. Still, her problem had never been that wearing diapers was immoral, and she felt like Amanda was trying to trick her by reframing the conversation. "Ok, but isn't that the entire point? People are patronizing and shallow, and if they see me wearing diapers, they're going to stigmatize me as an object of pity instead of treating me like an equal. It doesn't matter what I personally think about it." "Sure, I guess, if you wanna look at it that way.” Amanda shrugged. “But that’s only IF they see you wearing diapers." Claire rolled her eyes. “Sorry, WHEN they see me wearing diapers. There's no way you could wear that gigantic ball of paper out in public and not have people notice." A look of beaming triumph flashed across Amanda's face, and Claire knew immediately what was going on. "Don't tell me you're..." Claire put her hand on her forehead. "Yup," Amanda said cheerily, pulling up her shirt, and pulling down her jeans to reveal a fluffy white waistband. “Abena m4. I did some research, and these seemed like the best combination of discretion and absorbancy. I read that you can wear spandex over them to cut down on the noise even more.” Claire shook her head in disbelief. Wearing a diaper to make someone feel better was very sweet, and also very Amanda. But for as touching as the gesture was, and as badly as she was getting crushed in this debate, Claire couldn’t let go of her skepticism. “You’ve outdone yourself this time, I’ll give you that, but you have to admit this wasn’t really a fair test. I was distracted and it wasn’t even that long for me to have a chance to notice.” Amanda just laughed, still riding the high of victory. “Should I have done some gymnastics first?” She giggled. “Or did you want to see how it would hold up to some twerking?” Claire had to smile. “Yea, and after that, the runway. Let’s see how the diaper blends in with a little high fashion.” BUH BUH BUH, BUH BUH BUH BUH BUH, buh buh BUH buh… “Perfect!” exclaimed Claire, shutting the alarm off as fast as she could. “That can be the song as you go down the catwalk!” “I knew you’d love it,” beamed Amanda, and Claire wondered if she was more oblivious than she realized, or more conniving than she’d given her credit for. It was time to throw some water on the whole thing. “Amanda, seriously,” she pleaded. “Even if that diaper were totally invisible, I still wouldn’t trust it to actually hold up to an actual, like, full accident situation. I really don’t see the point of wearing something where the best case scenario is I never use it, and the worst case scenario is I get caught wearing a leaking diaper.” “Yea, I thought you’d say that,” nodded Amanda. “Well, am I wrong?” Amanda’s grin had faded a bit, and her cheeks were showing a definite tinge of pink. “I don’t know, but I drank a ton of water before I came over here…” Claire gaped at her. “Get OUT.” “I’m serious! How else are we supposed to test it?” “We’re not, because I’m not going to wear it.” “Yes you are,” snapped Amanda. “Even if you don’t agree to it now, you’re going to see sense eventually.” She was squirming a little, and Claire realized now why she’d been seeming so distracted. She shook her head. “I don’t know anyone other than you who would put on an adult diaper and pee in it just to find out if it works… This is so gross.” “What? It’s just pee. At least it’s going to be my own pee this time, unlike yesterday.” “That was gross too,” Claire shot back. “That doesn’t make this less gross.” “You’re such a prude,” Amanda said, laughing. “I’m using your shower right after, and I brought a change of clothes if I need it.” She squirmed a bit more, and then stopped, spreading her legs a bit, a look of determination on her face. Nothing happened, or at least, nothing seemed to be happening. Claire eventually grew impatient. “Well? Are you going?” “Not yet,” Amanda admitted. “This is weird.” “I told you.” “Not like that. I’ve just never done this on purpose.” “I’m shocked,” grinned Claire. “Do you need me to play some running water noises? “Maybe…” “Just pretend you’re in my bed after Hayley’s birthday party.” “Very funny,” said Amanda, who had become almost completely inured to jabs like this. She furrowed her brow, and after another moment, a look of calm washed over her. “There we go… ooh, it’s warm.” “Might as well just put up a woman’s bathroom sign on my door at this point,” Claire observed ruefully. She watched Amanda’s crotch like a hawk, waiting for the denim to change color. But it didn’t. “Are you done?” “Nope, still going. I told you I drank a lot of water.” “Dance around a bit, see if it leaks,” suggested Claire. “Don’t rush me,” Amanda reprimanded her. After another 30 seconds or so, she nodded. “Ok, all done… I think.” She performed a little dance, shaking her butt at Claire. “See anything?” Claire had to admit, she didn’t. It seemed like the diaper was doing its job, at least for now. Amanda strode triumphantly over to Claire’s bed, and plopped down on it. “Squishy,” she giggled. She leaned back, making a big show of looking perfectly content. “I might start wearing these to bed if I’m really drunk, I didn’t realize they’d work so well.” Claire was at a loss for words. In the last 36 hours, she’d peed herself 3 times, and now she was watching her best friend waltz around her room in a wet diaper. To say things had gotten weird would have been the understatement of a lifetime. Amanda, on the other hand, looked to be taking things completely in stride. “So hey, listen,” she said casually. “Now that the doctor turned out to be useless, can we finally go see Collin?” Claire turned red. “Didn’t you hear me yesterday? There’s no way I’m ever letting that guy find out what’s going on with me, no way. Can you imagine his reaction? He’s gonna write to whatever weird forum he hangs out on like, ‘Hey everyone, guess what - today I hypnotized a girl into peeing her pants! Do you think she’ll go out with me?!” Amanda frowned. “I don’t think he’s like that, you’re just being mean. I know what you said yesterday but that was before the doctor said you don’t have a UTI… And before you had another accident in public.” Claire was obstinate. “They’re gonna come back with more tests still. And I’m just still getting the hang of not feeling when I have to go. Besides…” she pouted. “I don’t care if I AM hypnotized. If I’ve got the option to keep Collin from hearing anything about me peeing my pants, I’m taking it, and I’m taking that information to the grave.” She crossed her arms resolutely, daring Amanda to argue with her. But Amanda wasn’t meeting her eyes. There was a guilty, squeamish look on her face, a look that Claire had no trouble recognizing. Amanda was not a very good liar, and she was terrible at keeping secrets. Claire’s eyes narrowed. “...What?” “Would it change your opinion if…” whispered Amanda. “He already kinda… knew…” Claire exploded. “And how would he know, Amanda? Why would he know that?” “I’m sorry!” wailed Amanda. “But I figured I should get his number in case anything like this happened, and it did, so I texted him! I was just trying to help!” Claire gritted her teeth. “What did you tell him?” “I only told him about the first time, and I didn’t go into like, crazy detail or anything. Just told him it seemed like the hypnosis worked, and asked if we could come by sometime and see what he can do about it.” Claire slumped, defeated. It was the party all over again, with Amanda running over her excuses like a raging elephant. She felt dazed and abused, as if the whole world was conspiring to share the news that she was incontinent as quickly as possible, with all the people she least wanted to know first. But she also knew that Amanda, in her fervent naivete, truly was only trying to help. If she believed Claire was hypnotized, it only made sense that she would turn to the so-called hypnotist for help, even at the cost of some of Claire’s dignity. Amanda seemed to sense that Claire was giving in. “Look, if we go over there and he’s just useless and you still don’t think you’re hypnotized after, we never have to talk about him again,” she cajoled. “But I’m trying to help you, and this is part of that, and I really need you to do this for me.” Claire nodded wordlessly. Each blow to her ego landed like an electrical shock, immobilizing her from protesting until it wore off. “I also,” Amanda admitted, “really need a shower. Can I borrow your shower kit and a towel?” She collected the items where Claire gestured to them, with Claire watching as she bent over. Her padded butt was definitely a little puffier than usual, but in spite of that, her outfit was still dry on the outside. . “By the way,” Amanda added shrewdly on her way out, “your alarm went off earlier. So you need to go to the bathroom too.” “You go first,” mumbled Claire. “I need a moment, I’ll go in a second.” But a few minutes later, Amanda was stepping into the shower, and Claire had forgotten her promise completely. *** Plothole thoughts: How does Claire go give a urine sample at the hospital, then have to go so badly that she wets herself in the cab like an hour later at most? My lazy headcanon is that she only pees enough to fill the cup, for no particular reason. She's hypnotized, it doesn't have to make sense! (But it makes enough non-sense that it does kind of bother me...)
Time for Chapter 4! Collin is back, finally. Looking ahead, I have a pretty good idea where Chapter 5 is going - we'll get into some of the backstory and nuts and bolts of this universe's version of hypnosis, as well as progressing the relationship between Claire and Collin and hopefully doing our first session of re-association training. After that... I honestly don't know. There's some obvious sexual tension that could be fulfilling to resolve, and the (at least partial) restoration of Claire's bladder control is a thread to follow. But I don't have a lot of direction outside of that, and writing for Claire gets more difficult the longer I go - they tell you to write what you know, and I don't actually know anyone like Claire. If anyone has any suggestions that might stimulate my creative process, or at least give me an idea of where people WANT the story to go, I'd be interested to hear them. As always, feedback/comments are welcome, including writing critique. I have some self critique that I could go into but really these prologues are self indulgent enough already. Enjoy! *** The late fall sun was already giving up on the day by the time Claire and Amanda left for Collin’s dorm. Amanda, just to make a point, was wearing the same clothes she had been wearing over the diaper, while Claire, ever fashionable, wore a pair of faded ankle cut skinny jeans, suede ankle boots and a black cardigan. Amanda had assured her that Collin would be waiting for them, but as they walked up the concrete steps to his dorm, Claire noticed her looking uneasy. “I don’t know why he’s not answering me… He said we could come by and he’d meet us. I don’t know where his room is even if we did get into the dorm without him.” Claire said nothing, choosing instead to smirk quietly and hope that Collin would never find his phone. But before she could make a serious case for giving up, Amanda called out triumphantly. “Ah ha! There he is, phew,” said Amanda. “He says he’ll be down in just a minute, and sorry for keeping us waiting.” “How nice of him,” grumbled Claire. When Collin appeared on the other side of the door, he was just as she remembered him. Short, at least by her standards, and scraggly, wearing skinny jeans that had seen better days, and a ‘The Cure’ t-shirt that would have been rejected by the Salvation Army. He looked glum and nervous as he let them in, mumbling some sound that probably was meant as a greeting, and staring at their feet from under the black bangs that shadowed his eyes. At least, Claire thought, he hadn’t gone so far as to flat iron his hair or put on eye shadow, and so managed to present as a young adult rather than an edgy middle school boy. When they reached his room, it became clear why Collin had been slow to answer. “Sorry for the mess…” he apologized, clearing off the bed in a hurry. “I didn’t… think you would actually come…” Collin’s room wasn’t gross or smelly, but it was overwhelmingly disorganized outside of the computer area. His dirty laundry was at least contained in a hamper, but his clean clothes were piled in a way that suggested a rotation of 3 or 4 outfits, none of which ever quite made it back to the dresser. Computer peripherals and vintage stereo equipment had spread out across every surface like a fungus, many in advanced states of disassembly or reassembly. A select few items seemed to have been placed for aesthetic value; a vinyl copy of “Loveless” by My Bloody Valentine, and a large, framed, black and white poster with the words “SEE YOU SPACE COWBOY…” which stood out as the only proper wall decoration. Collin’s office chair looked to be one of the only new and expensive things in the room, another clue, if there was any doubt, as to where he spent the most time. “You can sit down…” Collin said, gesturing hesitantly at the bed. Amanda plopped down graciously, but Claire shook her head stiffly. “I’ll stand.” The unlikely trio found themselves, for the second time, in a small, dusty bedroom with no one saying anything, everyone either unwilling or unsure of how to break the silence. Ultimately, it was up to Amanda, as the person who had brought them together, to take the initiative. “So, um.. Like I said, it seems like Claire might have been… affected… by the hypnosis.” The implications of ‘affected’ pinged off the walls, with opposite effects on the coloration of Claire and Collin’s cheeks - one, turning red in spite of herself, and the other, already pale, seeming to become even whiter. “Right… um… How… affected, exactly?” Collin asked reluctantly. Amanda looked at Claire, who shook her head vigorously. “Oh, uh… Let’s just say… Pretty affected,” Amanda explained, walking on eggshells. “Like… problematically so.” Collin nodded slowly. “Right… Well… That was certainly a possibility, which is why I was reluctant to try something so potentially debilitating... It was impossible to know how… severe… the impact was going to be.” Claire scoffed. There it was again, Collin equivocating to make hypnosis sound more grand and believable than the showy farce that she knew it was. Amanda glanced at her reproachfully. “The other thing, Collin, is that won’t admit that she’s hypnotized. She keeps saying it’s just a medical issue.” “It’s not a question of ‘admitting’ anything,” Claire interjected with annoyance, “I’ve just pointed out, correctly, that it’s more likely there’s a medical explanation for my… issues… than that hypnosis is real and this random guy from a crappy Sunday night house party is the only one who knows how to do it.” “But you never had medical issues before!” Amanda insisted. “Don’t you think it’s a little strange that the only thing that changed between you feeling totally normal and you having these accidents is that you just happened to try being hypnotized?” Mercifully, Collin cut them off. “Uh, I think you’re both right actually... Amanda’s right that the hypnosis could be one possible explanation, but Claire’s right that correlation doesn’t imply causation. We need to investigate more to really know what’s going on.” Claire smirked. Even though Collin was backing both sides, she felt that his analysis vindicated her more than it supported Amanda. “So how do we do that, then?” Amanda prodded eagerly. “Like, how do we investigate more?” “Well…” pondered Collin. “I guess… To start with, are the… symptoms… more mental, or physical?” “Physical,” said Claire. “Mental,” said Amanda, at exactly the same time. The girls glared at each other. Collin raised an eyebrow. “O…k…” he said slowly. “So, there’s some disagreement on that point, which suggests that it’s probably a mixture of both.” “She doesn’t feel when she has to go,” Amanda explained rapidly, “but she also can’t remember that she needs to go, even after a day of trying to adapt, I keep setting alarms to remind her to go to the bathroom and it’s not - “ Amanda stopped talking momentarily, because Claire was making furious throat cut gestures and shushing her viciously through her teeth. “Oh for crying out loud Claire, how are we supposed to get any help if I can’t even talk about what’s going on?” asked Amanda, exasperated. “Maybe it would help if I just asked some more… general questions,” Collin suggested, before things could get out of hand. “Would that be ok?” Amanda nodded, Claire shrugged. Let him run through his ‘questions,’ she thought, and let me out of here. It’s not like she had to answer them, anyway. “Ok…” Collin began, in his slow, low, quiet drawl. He sounds like Eeyore, thought Claire, giggling internally. “So… I’m just going to ask you a series of questions to try to get a… personality baseline and see if there are any… underlying issues, or… any inconsistencies that might be signs of hypnotic delusion. If you’re not comfortable… with any of them you don’t have to answer. Some of these won’t seem to be related to your problem, but that’s intentional. “Oh lord,” groaned Claire. “Hypnosis was bad enough - Now you’re trying psychoanalysis too? Should we go get me a couch to lie down on, or is that too much?” Collin turned a little pink. “Well, I AM a psych major… and you should probably sit down… if you’re ok with that. You can have the chair,” he added shyly. Ah, what the hell, thought Claire. She accepted the chair with a laugh, while Collin relocated, gingerly, to the bed, taking very obvious care to keep a respectful distance from Amanda. “She won’t bite, you know. Not until you get her clothes off,” Claire commented wickedly, making both of them blush. Poor Collin. Not a lot of social skills for someone studying humans, she thought, although the combo of psych major and aspiring hypnotist did seem fitting. “I’m surprised, by the way,” she added. “I assumed you were Comp Sci, based on how I’ve never seen you more than 3 feet from a computer.” “Uh… I’m both actually… double major,” Collin admitted. Even though it played into her stereotype, Claire had to admit that she was a little impressed. Collin might be nerdy, shy, and a bit far out with this hypnosis stuff, which she found ridiculous, but he was also clearly smart and hard working, which she respected. Somewhat mollified, she nodded at him. “Alright, let’s do it. Fire away, Freud.” “Wait - let me get my phone out,” Amanda interrupted. “I want to record this. We might need to reference it later.” “Oh, uh… Good idea,” Collin agreed, although for a moment, he seemed caught off guard. “But let’s use my laptop instead. It’s got an HD camera and I can just set it up here and leave it so you don’t have to hold the phone.” Without waiting for Amanda’s answer, he quickly orientated his laptop camera towards Claire, and started to record. “Alright then... What’s your name?” “Claire Emerson.” “Age?” “20.” “Eye color?” “Olive green,” laughed Claire. “Are we doing a psych eval or are you processing me for a driver’s license?” Collin’s eyes showed just a twinkle of a smile. “Just starting you off with some trivial questions to see how you respond… We’ll work through some common personality disorder screening next.” It took a while, and Collin stumbled a bit at a couple points. But after a number of very clinical sounding inquiries, it was clear to everyone that Claire was not suffering from any mania, delusions, or OCD. There were some comments from the peanut gallery about Claire’s temper, but they all agreed that she was not impulsive or self destructive or anything else that would indicate a disorder in that area. Collin’s other questions were all over the place, from “Do you consider yourself a very emotional person?” (No) to “Are you good at making people do what you want?” (Yes). Sometimes he would ask followup questions, or ask the same question in different ways. “Would you consider yourself to be particularly well organized?” “Yes.” “More organized than the average person?” “Absolutely.” “Do you ever find yourself in situations that you feel unprepared for, with no idea what led up to them?” “Nope, never.” They went on and on, and Claire had almost forgotten why they were there, until… “Ok… I do have to ask this at some point… Have you ever had any issues with bladder control in your adult life?” “...No.” “Ever waited too long to go to the bathroom, and not quite made it?” “Nope. But if we wanna get Amanda in the chair…” “No need for that…” Collin deflected, while Claire giggled. “I think I have what I need from the personality questions… This next part is a bit outside of the normal evaluation. I’m going to ask you about some specific real life scenarios, and I just want you to tell me, honestly and in detail, what you would do in each of them. These may seem a bit… trivial, but they’ll help... Are you up for that?” he asked, evidently uncertain about Claire’s level of patience. “Sure,” Claire replied readily. She’d expected to be annoyed by now, but she’d never been psychiatrically evaluated before, and found herself enjoying the attention. She was feeling a little fidgety, but figured it was probably something to do with sitting too long in this cramped, stale room. “Alright… I want you to imagine… You’re catching a plane the next morning, and you’re getting ready to go to bed. Walk me through some of the things you’d want to make sure about before falling asleep.” “Sure,” Claire began. “So, I want to make sure my suitcase or suitcases are all packed, except for things I absolutely need in the morning, like my outfit for the day, makeup, phone, boarding pass printed out. Make sure my phone is charging overnight. Toiletries for travel in ziplock bags and airplane sizes… Double check that I don’t have anything that can’t go on a plane... Double check that my carry-on bag fits the airline requirements. I might shower if I’m really getting up early for the flight, and I’ll have my ride to the airport sorted out with either a friend or with a rideshare.” She paused, thinking. “Also, when my family went on trips, we always tried to empty out the fridge most of the way, so there wasn’t spoiled food when we got back. And watered the plants, got someone to take care of the dogs and stuff… But that stuff wouldn’t apply to me right now, obviously.” Collin nodded along while Claire covered every possible base, including some that she was sure Amanda had never even thought of. When she was finished, he went straight on to the next question. “Another variation. Let’s say you’re leaving for a long car ride… What are some things you do right before you leave the house?” Claire crossed her legs, and put a hand on her chin. “Um, well, I’ll skip the stuff that I already said in the plane section that applies to any trip. So… I guess make sure there’s gas in the car, make sure I’ve checked the traffic and shared my ETA with anyone that I’m going to see… Bring some food or plan a stop along the way where I can get food. Same for coffee - especially for coffee. Make sure to…” she trailed off, a somewhat dazed look on her face. “Make sure to what?” probed Collin. Claire just shrugged. “Is there anything else?” Collin prodded gently. “Like say it’s a really, really long drive, and you've already had some coffee.” “Uh.. No.. I don’t think so anyway...” Claire mumbled. Amanda, watching from the bed, was looking as though she had just heard a piece of particularly shocking gossip, and Claire didn’t know why. Collin showed no reaction. “One more variation. Let’s say… You’re seeing a movie in the theater. It’s a long movie, so you’re going to be there awhile. Is there anything you do before you go in and sit down?” Claire listed off a few things; buy the tickets ahead of time, get to the theater early, buy snacks and soda... “Figure out which room my movie is in. Go to the… Uh, go pick a seat. And… silence my phone, if it’s not already silenced. I guess that’s it, there really isn’t that much for this one…” “…Noted,” said Collin, when it became clear that Claire had not noticed the glaring omission in her planning. Next to him, Amanda looked positively flabbergasted. “What about… after the movie?” asked Collin, giving Claire one last chance. “Let’s say you drank a large soda, and you’ve got a bit of a long ride home.” Claire looked at him blankly. Her leg was tapping the floor now, and she didn’t like the feeling she was getting, the nagging suspicion that everyone else in the room knew something she didn’t. “Uh… Um… I don’t know… Text my ride? If I didn’t come in my car or with friends? Maybe text my parents if I’m going home? I don’t know… You’re making me feel silly, but it’s just seeing a movie, it’s not rocket science…” She trailed off, looking lost. “That’s ok…” Collin said soothingly. “There’s no right answer… I’m just getting an idea of how you plan for different situations.” He looked at the ceiling thoughtfully. “Alright… Almost done. I’m going to ask you a few more direct questions… Do you know what a diuretic is?” “Yes,” answered Claire snappily. “Duh.” “Just making sure… And can you name some drinks that are diuretics?” “Coffee, tea, alcohol… Maybe cranberry juice, if that one guy from ‘The Departed’ knew anything.” “I dunno, but it doesn’t matter,” Collin replied. “So, if for example, you’ve been out drinking a lot of alcohol, is there anything you might try to be… more aware of throughout the night?” “Definitely,” Claire nodded. “I always drink a lot of water if I’m drinking alcohol. People are always complaining about hangovers, but they don’t even try to hydrate, it’s ridiculous.” Instead of lightening the mood with her mild complaining, it seemed that Claire had made things even more inexplicably dire. Amanda had her hand over her mouth now, and was looking at Claire like she had just grown a second head. Claire had absolutely no idea what was going on with her, and she was decidedly uncomfortable at this point. She uncrossed and re-crossed her legs, still tapping her foot, and looked back at Collin, searching his face for an explanation. What she saw was concerning - his poker face was mostly intact, but his eyebrows had disappeared, retreating involuntarily up into his bangs. He corrected this quickly, though. “Yea… that’s smart… Anyway, one last question. I’ve noticed that you’ve been getting really fidgety as we’ve been talking. Do you have any idea why? And… sorry, one other personal question… When was the last time you went to the bathroom?” Claire shrugged. She didn’t know, and she didn’t want to tell Collin he was making her nervous, even just as an excuse. She didn’t know when the last time she went to the bathroom was, either, but she didn’t see the relevance, and was getting tired of bathroom questions. Collin, for his part, made no attempt to drag the answers out of her. “So, did I pass?” asked Claire flippantly, once it became clear that there were no further questions. “Uh… Well, it wasn’t a ‘pass/fail’ test, but, I do think you’re showing some… pretty strong effects from the hypnosis,” Collin mumbled apologetically. “Can you do anything to help?” cried Amanda, like the distressed relative of a terminally ill patient. “Hm…” Collin sat, looking pensive, for a long, pregnant moment. “No, probably not.” He shrugged. “WHAT?” yelled Amanda, while Claire burst out laughing. The sheer anticlimax of Collin’s response was just too perfect. After all that grilling, all of those slick personality questions, he ultimately had nothing useful to say after all. He was just jumping right back into the hypnosis boat with Amanda. Well, they could sail away together for all she cared. She stood up from the chair, and walked over to the door. “Well, there you have it Amanda, he’s just as clueless as the doctors. And he can’t fix me with more hypnosis, probably because, plot twist, hypnosis isn’t real.” “Why CAN’T you fix her with more hypnosis?” asked Amanda beseechingly, ignoring the rest of Claire’s comment. Collin, who was still looking a bit shell shocked from Amanda’s indignant scream, tried to explain. “I mean… it’s basically what I said before… it’s easier to hypnotize away someone’s inhibitions or abilities than to give them brand new ones.” “But this isn’t a brand new ability,” Amanda persisted. “You’re just restoring an ability she already had.” “It doesn’t work like that…” Collin mumbled. “Why not? How DOES it work then?” It seemed like, now that Collin was no longer presenting a helpful or interesting version of hypnosis, Amanda was finally starting to demand answers, and Claire looked on with glee. Collin took a second to compose himself, then launched into an analogy. “So… Imagine Claire’s brain is like a house. An impossibly large and complex house, with hallways, staircases and doors connecting all the different rooms together. What I did was the equivalent of handing Claire’s subconscious a sledgehammer, and telling her ‘go tear down all the staircases that are relevant to bladder control…’ Or more accurately, ‘think of everything you can that reminds you that you have to pee, or should pee, and destroy all those triggers one by one.’” Claire pictured a little tiny version of herself walking around her brain, covered in plaster and splinters, and she giggled. But a silly construction metaphor was not the same as a scientific explanation, and did nothing to actually sway her opinion. Amanda seemed less sure. “Well… Why can’t you build new staircases then? Why not just tell her brain, hey, go put those staircases you destroyed back up?” “Well, two reasons… One, Claire’s subconscious isn’t a carpenter… Building connections is a lot harder than tearing them down. And two, as the hypnotist, I’m letting Claire’s mind do all the work… I can put her in a suggestive state, give her a prompt and let her run with it... But I can’t tell her ‘go build a bunch of staircases connecting your brain and your bladder’ because that’s not a specific enough set of instructions. And she’s got no reference point to follow, unlike before, because she’s destroyed the blueprint…” Amanda furrowed her brow. “Hmm… I guess that kind of makes sense…” “What? No it doesn’t!” Claire was disappointed to see her friend giving in to Collin’s cheesy explanation. Loudly, and rather animatedly, she let it be known that even if the analogy SOUNDED smart, nothing Collin was saying provided any kind of actual scientific basis for hypnosis. But to her annoyance, no one listened to her. In fact, Amanda gestured at her, and her twisting, bouncing legs, and addressed Collin like she wasn’t even there. “But if all her brain bladder staircases are destroyed… Why is she doing all this pee dancing? I’d almost never seen her pee dance in my life before this, and she’s been squirming for like 30 minutes now without doing anything about it. It’s honestly kind of disturbing.” “Well, it’s what you said…” Collin answered. “Her brain doesn’t connect the symptoms of having to pee with the realization of having to pee, and that includes the uh… pee dancing. But it seems like her body still has some residual, automatic reaction to the sensation of a full bladder that makes her fidget… She just doesn’t know what it means. At least that’s my guess,” shrugged Collin. “Who knows, really.” “HEY! Dumb and dumber! I can hear you, you know!!” Claire interjected, red faced and properly peeved. “And I’m not PEE DANCING,” she added, straightening herself out and standing completely still. “If I’m fidgety, it’s because I’ve been trapped in this shithole dorm room for the last hour, listening to you two dweebs speculate about whether my brain is more of a three story Victorian, or just a mid century ranch.” Collin and Amanda just stared, at a loss for words, while Claire went on ranting. “I’ve had enough! A couple accidents and you two jump to the most unlikely explanation. ‘It’s got to be the HypNoSis! There’s no other explanation!’ God, listen to yourselves. Besides, Amanda is exaggerating the whole thing anyway.” Now that she was done with Collin’s investigation, Claire had no reason to be honest, and surged on with the blatant lie. “I’m not TOTALLY unable to feel when I have to go. And I’ve already basically got this under control. I have one little incident, and y'all decide I’ve got a spell on me or whatever, while Amanda spends her whole life barely making it to the bathroom but that’s supposed to be normal. This whole thing is one long stupid overreaction. I’m not going to pee my pants again, and I don’t need you two brainstorming how to fix me with hypnosis, because, reality check, hypnosis isn’t real…” Claire trailed off. Her audience was not looking at her anymore, or rather, they weren’t looking at her face. They were staring, wide eyed, at her crotch: Amanda, with an expression of pity and disappointment, and Collin, with an expression of stunned embarrassment. “Claire…” Amanda shook her head sadly. A pit had opened up in Claire’s stomach. She could feel it now. Traitorous, rippling warmth was emanating from the intersection of her thighs, blanketing the insides of her legs and running up backwards along the contours of her perky butt. When she dared to look down, she saw her jeans rapidly darkening around the path of the relentless rivers inside them, forming an unbroken stain from origin to terminus, alongside a few shiny tributaries that snaked out from the main deluge and trickled down at their own pace. The flood poured out over her expensive shoes and onto the floor, most of it caressing her legs the whole way down, but some of it, too much to contain, breaking free at random points along her jeans and dripping down directly like the runoff of melting icicles. Claire let out a high pitched whimper of dismay, and, in a quavering voice, summed up the situation in two words. “Oh fuck…” Her mind was spinning a million miles an hour, trying to think how this was happening, as if hoping that if she could only categorically rule out the possibility that she could be peeing her pants, it would cease to be real. But everything added up. She couldn’t think of a time that she’d gone to the bathroom since the cab ride, and she’d had plenty of water and coffee to drink since then. She’d ignored one bathroom alarm, and turned the other off in advance. What had she been expecting? In a daze, she only just noticed that something had hit her in the feet, and realized that Collin had somehow leapt off the bed and procured a towel without her noticing, then thrown it over her to mitigate the damage. Was it more embarrassing to completely flood his dorm floor with pee unabated, or more embarrassing to have him needing to jump in and intervene to prevent it? “I’m so sorry,” she sniffled. “I’m… I’m just… I don’t…” Collin shrugged. His face was still red with secondhand embarrassment, but otherwise, he seemed to be composing himself quite quickly. “It’s fine… just… finish… It doesn’t matter.” It took a minute, but Claire did ‘finish.’ What else was she going to do? The towel contained things somewhat, but not completely. No one dared adjust it. Amanda wasn’t saying anything this time. There was still a trace of pity in her eyes, but only a trace. She clearly felt that Claire, who had blown off her attempts to help, lied to discredit her, and accused her of ‘exaggerating,’ had more or less immediately got what she deserved. With Claire paralyzed and Amanda pouting vindictively, Collin tried to take charge. “You probably could use some space…” he said, kindly. “I can go get a garbage bag and some paper towels, and you can… clean up. There’s another towel you can use. If you want to put on some of my clothes…” Collin struggled to shoulder the audacity of such a personal suggestion, before recovering enough to follow through. “You know, to change into some dry clothes, you can use whatever fits… Or not… Or whatever…” Claire just stared into space, but Amanda reluctantly broke her silence. “I actually happen to have a change of clothes, because… reasons,” she admitted. “If you want to go get that stuff she can put those on.” Collin didn’t need to be told twice. He was eager to put some distance between himself and the intimate female drama playing out behind him. Perhaps, in the back of his mind, he saw a certain bitter irony in the fact that he’d finally, inadvertently, convinced a girl to get naked in his room, only for it to happen, by necessity, without him in it. If he did, though, he pushed it aside. For better or for worse, he had dragged an extremely strange situation into his orbit, and he was going to need to figure out how to get control of it. If only it were that simple. Edited February 13 by bestrapperalive (see edit history)
Well, it's been a month, and I've been procrastinating by writing other, more lighthearted stories, mostly not publishing them (I will eventually), and playing around with AI. After my rough draft, I just couldn't quite get the tone right for the end of this chapter and the beginning of the next one. In fact, I'm still not thrilled with it. I don't love the dialogue and I just can't quite nail the vibe - I don't want this story to get too bogged down in a sci fi drama plot, but it keeps trying to, and I keep having to edit it back down to keep things light and moving. Furthermore, I still only have an uncomfortably rough idea of where the plot of this story is going to tie up, and that makes writing chapters like this that are mostly bridge chapters more anxiety inducing. After all, no one wants to end up with a bridge to nowhere! But anyway, I decided screw it, let me just put out the damn chapter and see where it goes before this story gets totally covered in cobwebs. ********************** “So, if for example, you’ve been out drinking a lot, is there anything you might try to be… more aware of throughout the night?” “Definitely. I always drink a lot of water if I’m drinking alcohol. People are always complaining about hangovers, but they don’t even try to hydrate, it’s ridiculous.” Amanda paused the video, and looked at Claire grimly. They were all sitting on Collin’s bed, with Claire now dressed in the somewhat oversized clothes loaned to her by Amanda, reviewing the video of her unique ‘psych eval.’ “Do you see where you went wrong here?” Claire had her head in her hands. She had already had it pointed out to her for the prior two and a half scenarios that a well organized person such as herself should be going to the bathroom before a long car ride, a long movie, or at the end of a long movie. And a well organized, incontinent person (such as herself), doubly so. “I forgot about going to the bathroom,” she mumbled dejectedly. “Exactly!” said Amanda cheerily. “See, she’s learning already.” Collin looked skeptical. “It’s one thing to answer these when we’re shoving the answer in her face… She’s going to have a harder time actually doing these things on her own.” “Well, one step at a time,” Amanda said, breezing past the doubt. “Now…” She skipped ahead a bit in the video, which had kept going after the unofficial ‘last question,’ to where the tiny Claire on the screen was unknowingly pee dancing for her life. “Do you see what you’re doing here? Do you remember what that means?” Claire just sniffled. The version of her on the laptop had launched into a tirade, almost comically oblivious to the imminent disaster. As she stood there, exaggerating her ability to monitor her bladder, a leak had already appeared between her legs, and then, as she confidently asserted that she was done peeing her pants, that leak became a flood, and… Claire looked away in shame. Every time she thought her situation couldn’t get more embarrassing, it found a way. First, she wet her pants in a crowded classroom. Then, she literally peed on her best friend. Then, she peed herself in a cab. And now, not only had she pissed her jeans right in front of a boy her age, but there was a high definition video of the accident saved on his laptop. At the rate this was going, she’d be seeing it on the front page of Reddit sometime tomorrow morning, and on CNN by Sunday. “I think she’s seen enough…” mumbled Collin. Amanda seemed to have been hypercharged by the opportunity to finally prove that Claire was hypnotized, but Collin more sympathetically felt that she needed space to recover. “I don’t know how much it can help to keep showing her this stuff… I’m pretty sure she gets the point, you don’t need to keep rubbing it in her face.” “I want to hear her say it,” Amanda insisted, fiercely. “No more evasive answers. I want her to say, ‘Amanda, you were right, hypnosis is real and I’ve been hypnotized.” “You were right,” croaked Claire, weakly. It was too much to repeat the exact sentence verbatim, but it was all true. There was no explanation for the mental deficiency she was showing that encompassed both the fact that she had become as clueless as a toddler in all things related to bladder control, and retained perfect mental acuity in literally everything else. It all made so much more sense in retrospect. If all she was dealing with was a bladder infection, or a nerve issue, there’s no way she would have handled difficulty making it to the bathroom by choosing to… almost never go to the bathroom. There had to be some biasing factor in her logic. And why else would she have completely abandoned common sense when it came to preparation for toilet restricting activities? She wondered if she would ever have realized it on her own, without Collin teasing out the glaring inconsistencies in her thought processes, and recording it for her to see. Would she have cluelessly gone on wetting herself in perpetuity, never making the connection to her own behavior, until she ended up in 24/7 diapers, or a psych ward, or both? Her only consolation was that, thank god, the conditioning seemed to have managed to specifically target her bladder, and she was not going around blindly shitting herself as well. “I really think you should let her go get some sleep, Amanda…” Collin opined. “You’ll both be back tomorrow… How long did you say it was between her cab ride and the, uh… incident in my room?” “About 3 hours, but she was drinking coffee all day. I saw her finishing one when she got home and she was drinking from her water bottle after that,” Amanda rattled off. Collin thought for a second. “Alright… So, how about... Claire, don’t go to the bathroom for 2, maybe 2 and a half hours before you get here… And drink the amount of coffee and water or whatever that you would normally drink, but no more than that. I know this is painfully unscientific,” he sighed, “but I don’t really know how to fix that without more data… Hopefully that will be enough to where you don’t have an accident, but you need to go badly enough that I have something to work with for the reassociation training.” Reassociation training. A confident, official sounding name for what was in reality a complete moonshot of a plan. By putting Claire into a state of hypnosis while she had to pee, Collin said, he could hopefully help guide her in reassociating the sensation of a full bladder, which she had been interpreting as a kind of heightened anxiety, with its actual meaning; that is, with the fact of having a full bladder. Would it work? Collin wasn’t sure, but having seen Claire’s condition with his own eyes, he ultimately agreed with Amanda that they had to try. There was simply no telling if Claire would recover any time soon on her own. Still, even if it worked, it would be painfully slow. Claire would at first have very little warning between recognizing that she had to pee and reaching her limit, as the association would have to gradually work through less and less obvious levels of discomfort. And even once they improved that, it would be up to her to relearn proper bathroom preparation habits, or she would still run the risk of getting stuck with a full bladder away from the toilet more than the average person. “So basically, I need to be potty trained all over again,” Claire had summarized glumly. As she lay in bed that night, Claire turned this notion over in her mind, trying to make sense of it. What did that actually mean, to be potty trained approaching her 21st birthday? Surely the main difficulty of potty training was working around the fact that children are incredibly stupid, irrational, and lacking in self awareness. Given that she was none of those things, shouldn’t this be a walk in the park? And yet, just as she was thinking this, she was startled awake by the bathroom alarm, and realized that without it, she would have fallen asleep without ever going to pee. Would she have wet the bed, or made it till morning? How was that even a question? She’d never been a bedwetter. But she’d never had to rely on an alarm clock for her bathroom visits, either. It had now been 2 full days since she’d been hypnotized, and, consequently, 2 full days since she’d gone a day without peeing her pants. As the third day dawned, Claire was forced to confront the fact that she was not going to get over her continence issues on any sort of condensed timeline. If she wanted to continue her education, she was going to have to do it with a reduced or entirely absent capacity for bladder control. A day and a half of missed class was already a stressful enough chunk of time, and there were no antibiotics or miracle injections coming to justify drawing it out any longer. She had only one class that afternoon, and it was a lecture. She wouldn’t have to interact with anyone, and could pay attention to how she sat, and who could see her. Perfect for testing out the diap… the protection. She wouldn’t allow herself to call it a diaper, because diapers were for babies, and she was an adult with a medical… er… mental… well, an issue. In a private window on her laptop, Claire reluctantly googled the Abena M4, and found step by step instructions for how to put it on herself. As the soft paper slipped over the goosebumps on her legs and covered her privates, she felt a mixture of relief and terror - relief that, at least theoretically, she was finally protected from wetting her pants, and terror that she felt relief from putting on a dia… protection. The protection was unfortunately a bit large for her slender frame - at 5’ 7 and a bit over 120 pounds, she fit in around the minimum waist size recommended by Abena for the M4, something that probably hadn’t occurred to Amanda. She would have to hope that this wouldn’t decrease the effectiveness… not that she planned on testing it, of course. Regardless, it did mean that, to her chagrin, she was probably going to look even more unnaturally puffy than she’d hoped. Reluctantly, she held the protection up with her back against the wall, and taped herself in. No going back now. She pulled a pair of spandex on to slim down the profile, exactly as Amanda had suggested, and pulled a pair of her loosest, highest waisted jeans up and nearly over the telltale white band. In the full length mirror hanging from her door, she tried every pose she could think of, trying to convince herself that she looked normal, and not like… well, a girl wearing a gigantic diaper under her pants. No matter how she fixed things, that pesky white line always found a way to peek out. The Abena rose way higher than she would have imagined, far up her back, and almost to her belly button in the front. Fortunately, it was late fall, and she was under no obligation to have her waistline visible at any point outside of her room. Resigning herself to this imperfection, she threw on a long, loose sweater, and matched the rest of her makeup and accouterments to the theme of ‘warm and cozy chic.’ With one last skeptical glance in the mirror, she headed out the door. The weather had improved dramatically from the day before, and Claire relished the crisp air on her walk to breakfast. As she strolled along the sidewalks and grassy promenades of her campus, she was at first hyper aware of the crinkly chafing between her legs, sure that soon, someone would pull her aside to explain, hey, just so you know, you’re wearing a diaper, and everyone can tell. But as with anything, the longer this went without happening, the more acclimated Claire became to the risk. By the time she had procured tea and avocado toast and settled into a sunlit table at the outskirts of the student center, she was feeling better than she had at any point in the last 48 hours. Laptop out, she observed that the classes she’d missed had by now all posted notes on their online portals, meaning that as she’d hoped, all she would need to do after looking them over was swing by her professors’ office hours. Scrolling through pdfs, cross referencing with her textbooks, and tuning out the babble of students swirling around her, she found herself feeling almost… normal. The sunlight was rippling off the sheen of her chestnut hair, catching the eyes of some of the male passers by, who snuck glimpses at her when they thought she wasn’t looking. Claire smiled. Normally, she didn’t need to be reassured that she looked good, but today… Today, she needed the boost. Still, when she stretched out her arms behind her back, and felt her sweater rising around her waist, she pulled them back quickly. There was still that peek of puffy white to be cognizant of. “Claire!” Claire turned to see the first real challenge to her improved mood approaching from her left. It was Ben, a guy in her outer circle of friends who had been in her Physics of Sound class to witness her complete bladder meltdown on Monday. “Oh, hey Ben…” Ben bounded over like a golden retriever, and sat down across from her uninvited. “How are you doing? You feeling better?” “Uh…Yea… Much better, thanks.” “That’s great! Hey, just so you know…” He leaned in, lowering his voice. “No one’s talking about that thing that happened in class. We all know it could happen to anyone, it actually happened to my sister once in middle school so I know how it is.” Every single composite part of Ben’s attempt at reassurance made her feel uniquely worse, and Claire gritted her teeth. It was almost impressive how the second half of his counseling immediately contradicted the first half, before topping it off by comparing her to an actual child. She would have felt more crushed if she wasn’t impressed by how clueless it was. “Yea, sure Ben, thanks. I’m not really worried about it, just want to forget it happened,” she said, pointedly. “Oh yea, sure, makes sense. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that in case you were still feeling down about it. See you later!” He bounded off, oblivious to the destruction his pointless intrusion had caused. Despite this vibe killing interaction, the rest of Claire’s afternoon went more or less according to plan. She had been forced to set her bathroom alarms to ‘vibrate’ and time them around class, but she still managed to react appropriately to at least one of them, rendering the protection as superfluous as she had hoped. By the time she got home, around 3:30, she was feeling confident enough to remove the Abena, and change into some more normal, form fitting clothes. Even though she would be purposefully going there with a full bladder, there was just no way she was wearing protection to her rendezvous with Collin. It was just too risky, too difficult to hide in a more intimate setting like that. She couldn’t justify it logically, but the thought of him seeing her in a diaper still flustered her more than him watching her piss her pants. A normal person could accidentally pee their pants, at least, occasionally. Maybe not 4 times in two days, but sometimes. Normal people did not, however, wear diapers. Disabled, incontinent people who had given up on hiding their abnormality wore diapers. If Claire was going to wet herself, she would at least wet herself looking good. Uh… What? Wet yourself looking good? What the fuck does that even mean? And why do you care? Why DID she care? After all, Collin was just some nerd who was essentially functioning as a doctor, treating her for a very unique medical issue. Would she have cared about a doctor seeing her in diapers? Well, yea, she would have, but she knew that she shouldn’t. Whatever. She wasn’t wearing the diaper, and that was that. * “Oh… uh… hi.” Collin stared, flustered, through the crack of his doorway, where Claire was standing unannounced. “Hi,” she said back. “Can I come in?” “Um… I… How did you get in here, anyway?” “I just waited until someone let me in, this isn’t a prison. Let me in, come on.” “Didn’t we… didn’t we say 6?” stuttered Collin, still thrown by the unexpected guest. “Yea,” said Claire impatiently, “but I’m changing the plan. I’ve got some questions that need answering before we get to the reassociation whatever.” “Is Amanda there?” stalled Collin, trying to peer around Claire. “No, she’s not. Can I come in already? I don’t care about whatever anime porn you were watching, I don’t want anyone seeing me out here.” It was a very rude thing to say, and Claire kind of regretted it, but it also seemed to work, because Collin shrugged and admitted defeat. “Alright… You can come in, but don’t look at my computer for a second.” Claire slipped through the door and shut it behind her, while Collin went over to his computer and minimized some windows. He was wearing gym shorts and a t-shirt, and it looked like he had just gotten out of the shower. His bed was unmade, and he scampred around throwing things out of the way as Claire just looked on, laughing. “You don’t need to bother with that stuff, you know,” she said. “I get it, it’s a dorm room, I’m not expecting the Ritz Carlton.” Collin still looked a little embarrassed, but he abandoned the nervous tidying. “I was gonna clean up more before you got here… I didn’t expect you to be a full 2 hours early.” “Sorry,” shrugged Claire. “I’d have texted you, but I don’t have your number, and I didn’t wanna ask Amanda for it because she doesn’t know I’m here.” “Why not?” asked Collin, with some trepidation. “Like I said,” Claire repeated, “I have some stuff I need to ask you. And I’m tired of her always derailing the conversation.” “Well… alright…” mumbled Collin. He looked like he wasn’t quite sure how to feel about Amanda not being there to, in Claire’s words, ‘derail the conversation.’ Claire, however, had neither time nor patience for alleviating Collin’s discomfort. She got right to the point. “So, listen. I did some research about hypnosis, and it’s not as much of a fake thing as I thought, but it also shouldn’t be able to make me… you know. Like apparently it really can induce a trancelike state that makes you suggestible to some level of prompting, but it can’t just completely take over your mind and alter your behavior against your will. So whatever you did, it’s different. Like, way different, and I need more than like, ‘your brain is a house’ or whatever you told Amanda. I want to know how this really works; like, how are you doing it, what is it exactly that you’re doing - And why is there absolutely no reputable information about it that I can find anywhere?” It was a lot of questions, but Collin didn’t respond to any of them. Instead he sighed, looking away from Claire with a guilty grimace. “See, I was afraid you were going to ask me stuff like that…” Claire raised her eyebrows. “Why? I promise I’m not going to be difficult anymore, you were right about everything. I’m sorry that I was so stubborn.” “It’s not that,” Collin replied. “It just… would be… easier… if you didn’t ask…” Claire blinked. She hadn’t expected stonewalling, and felt her face getting hot. “Easier for you maybe,” she said, trying not to sound bitter. “I don’t get it, you couldn’t wait to tell me about hypnosis at the party. Now you’re being weird about it? Like, what changed?” “Sobriety,” mumbled Collin darkly, kicking the air. Claire looked at him with annoyance. For her, this situation was a potentially life-ruining upheaval, and she felt it rather trivialized things for him to reduce it to an inebriated lapse in judgment. Feeling her temper bubble up like a tea kettle, she took a deep breath. Shouting wasn’t going to get her anywhere. Collin was going to answer her questions, she just needed to find the right angle. “Collin,” she said softly. “You hypnotized me so severely that I’m peeing my pants. This is not a small thing.” She looked at him imploringly. “You NEED to tell me what’s going on, like I have a right to know.” “Yea, I mean, I agree,” Collin squirmed. “It’s just…” He trailed off. “Just what?” asked Claire, bemused. “Are you trying to keep some kind of like, hypnotist trade secret? Because I’m not going to tell anyone, believe me. Even if this wasn’t the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me, which it is, it’s not like anyone would ever believe me if I told them, ‘guess what? I got hypnotized, and now I can’t control my bladder!” “Yea… I mean, I believe you…” Collin struggled. “But it’s still too big of a risk… We could get in real trouble.” “Trouble? What kind of trouble?” Claire asked, perplexed. “I looked it up, there aren’t any laws about hypnosis in this state. Honestly I was… shocked that there are laws about hypnosis in ANY state, but…” “Yea, I’m not worried about state laws,” Collin said quietly. “Well, so tell me,” Claire implored him. “What ARE you worried about?” Collin just shook his head glumly. “I really shouldn’t tell you… I’m really sorry…” He wouldn’t look at her, but Claire could see real conflict in Collin’s midnight eyes. As hard as he was for her to read sometimes, Claire was pretty sure that in this case, Collin was not brushing her off just to get rid of her. He wanted to tell her his secrets, whatever they were. But something was stopping him. Some unknown factor had him convinced that it was tremendously important for him to stay silent, and she needed to show him that whatever it was, it was not going to be enough to outweigh her need for information. “Collin,” she said, with a bit of an edge, “I don’t know if you thought I was just going to blindly go about my life, showing up for ‘reassociation training’ in the evenings and just… I don’t know, not thinking about this the rest of the time? But if you did, you’re being ridiculous. This is going to be the most important thing in my life until I get to the bottom of it, or I’m cured, or both. So if you’re not going to help me, I might as well just get back to researching, cuz I’ve got nothing else planned for the next two hours.” With that, Claire strode purposefully over to Collin’s unmade bed, plopped down, and stretched out as if she owned it. She would make herself as much of a nuisance as possible until Collin realized that he wouldn’t be able to get on with his life until he told her what she wanted to know. Collin just stared, somewhat slack jawed, as Claire pulled out her phone and started flipping through the saved tabs, making a big show of pondering their contents. “You’re… You’re not going to find anything like that,” he said, after a few minutes of this. His face was blank, his tone impassive, but Claire could tell she was getting to him. “That’s too bad. It’s really unfortunate that there’s no one in this room who could just answer my questions, so that I don’t have to scour the internet for the rest of my life,” she pointed out, with withering sarcasm. At first, it looked like Collin was going to take the sarcasm on the chin, and continue holding out. But then, his expression changed. The tension in his stance dissipated, and it was obvious that he’d come to some kind of decision. “Fine,” he said simply. “Fine?” Claire beamed at him triumphantly. Too easy. Collin did not smile back. “Yes, fine. You’re right, you deserve to know. I didn’t want to get you involved, but… Obviously that’s not really realistic now.” “Involved?” Claire said, somewhat indignantly. “What does that mean? How am I not already extremely involved?” “There are levels of involvement,” Collin replied, without a hint of humor. “If I’m going to tell you everything, none of it can ever leave this room. You can’t tell Amanda, or your family, or anyone, ever, about any of it.” “I already told you, no one would believe me,” Claire brushed him off. “Why is it such a big deal, anyway?” For one of the first times ever, Collin looked Claire directly in the eyes, and the intensity in his stare caught her completely off guard. She’d always thought of Collin as almost like a kid, playing around with hypnosis and being scared of girls. Now, though, something about him looked much older, more serious, as though whatever he was about to tell her was incompatible with the facade they’d both been holding up. “It’s a big deal,” he said, in a strange voice, “because if anyone finds out about your condition, you, me and Amanda might wake up tomorrow with no memory of any of this, and no clue why you can’t stop peeing your pants.” “Huh?” Claire blinked. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but definitely not that. “Why?” Collin looked at her with a faint smirk as he answered. “Because the US government doesn’t like sharing its secrets.”
Chapter 5:- Tom glanced over to look at Jill. From the driving seat there was no outward signs of anything amiss, apart from the fact that she was blushing bright red. He muttered that he was sorry, but that he couldn’t do anything about being pulled over for a random check. Jill replied, saying that it wasn’t his fault and that she shouldn’t have had so much tea on the train. She then went on to explain what had happened. ”I know that before we got pulled over I said I needed to pee. Well actually that was a severe understatement, as I was absolutely bursting and had been getting more and more desperate by the minute. I didn’t want to say anything earlier as I didn’t want to distress you or make you panic, especially with the police about. I was almost losing control when they directed us over into the lay-by. Then, when they told me to get out and stay behind the barrier I knew that it was too late and that I was definitely going to have to one somehow. As I moved to get out of the car I sensed a leak but I couldn’t very well hold myself then especially in front of a young policeman! It was when I stretched my leg to step over the barrier that it really started and I felt a spurt escape into my knickers. I tried to hold it back, but my poor muscles had had enough and it started to dribble down my thighs. I quickly sat on the grass and pulled my skirt from under me. I was peeing steadily by now so I just sat there and went in my knickers. They are too tight to pull the gusset aside so I just did it through them. We’ll have to stop at the services though, as I need to change them as they are absolutely soaked.” Tom could hardly drive, he was so aroused by what Jill was telling him. The thought of this lovely mature woman beside him sitting there with pee-soaked knickers was almost too much for him. His penis was rock hard and making a huge bulge in his trousers and he was sure that Jill would notice. Luckily they arrived at the services and Tom pulled in to park as close to the building as he could. Jill asked him to open the boot for her so that she could get some fresh knickers out of her case and off she went to change. Tom got out too and went to the gents although he wasn’t really needing to pee. He went into a cubicle and locked the door before unzipping and manoeuvring his still hard penis out of his clothing. He closed his eyes and pictured Jill sitting on the grass, with her pee gushing out of her knickers. He involuntarily started to stroke himself as he imagined her and within seconds he had ejaculated into the toilet. He quickly tidied himself up and went back out to wait for Jill she emerged shorty from the ladies, carrying the plastic bag containing her wet knickers. Tom couldn’t resist putting his arm around her and giving her a quick kiss before the headed to the car. Once back in the car, Tom asked Jill if she felt better and if it was okay to carry on with their journey. Jill replied by saying that she was fine now and felt nice and comfortable. She went on to say that she had done another pee while in the toilet so would be definitely ok for the rest of the journey. She also said she had rinsed out her knickers and dried them a bit under the hand drier before putting them in the bag and that she would dry them properly later when they reached the hotel. They set off again, although Tom was still extremely turned on by what had happened. His condition wasn’t helped when Jill started Tom tell him something. “ You know” she said, “That experience reminded me of the first real accident I had as an adult, or maybe almost an adult. We were in the final year of school and I would have just turned eighteen. A bunch of us met up in the park one day after school and we were fooling around. Someone had got hold of some cans of cider, although most of us were still underage. We didn’t have much experience of drinking at that time, or at least I didn’t and I had no idea how quickly that stuff goes through you! Not long after drinking a can I really had to pee. It came on me all of a sudden and I soon realised that if I didn’t get to a toilet I was going to do it in my knickers! I left the others and headed across the park to the toilets. Long before i reached them I had to hold myself. I was absolutely desperate! In fact I couldn’t remember ever having needed so badly before. I was still wearing my school uniform of blazer, white blouse and dark skirt. We had had PE that day so I had my navy blue gym knickers on. Some girls wore gym knickers which looked like shorts whilst others wore ones which were quite loose and baggy. Mine were like full back panties and were quite tight as I was always a bit on the chubby side. Anyway, I got to the toilet, only to find they were locked up. I panicked then, as I was almost peeing myself and the thought that I had been about to get relief seemed to make thing ten times worse when I found I couldn’t. I simply had to pee! There was no doubting it! I frantically glanced around, looking for somewhere to go. I saw a thick clump of bushes about fifty yards away and decided that they would have to do and quickly headed for them. However, long before I got there my bladder had other ideas and I felt myself leaking. By the time I reached the bushes I reckon about half of the contents of my bladder was in my knickers. They were soaked! When I finally reached the bushes I ducked in behind them and lifted my skirt and squatted down. I was peeing freely by now, so rather tha pull my knickers down I just relaxed and let go in them. The relief was bliss, but my navy knickers were absolutely wringing wet! I slipped them off and wrung them out as best I could before slipping them in my bag. I dried myself off as much as I could with a tissue and stood up again. I didn’t want to go back among my friends, especially wearing no knickers, so I headed off home. Luckily my mum was still at work so I could put my clothes in the washer and have a shower before she came home. So you see, I have a bit of previous experience, not that I’m proud of it or anything. In fact you must be ashamed of me, a grown woman who can’t seem to keep her knickers dry” Tom tried to reply, but in reality he was so turned on he could hardly trust himself to speak. He tried to tell Jill that anyone could be caught short and have an accident. He reminded her that he had been caught himself while with her on a few previous occasions and that he wasn’t one bit ashamed of her. In fact, he said he was extremely proud to be seen in the company of such a lovely woman. Things settled down then and they enjoyed the scenery on the much quieter roads as they neared the coast. More to come soon Edited January 26 by stinklerus (see edit history)
This was a story a friend of mine wanted me to write for him. It was an interesting situation as it was a gentleman who has never tried our kink before but has been curious. so... be gentle on critiques and let me know what you think. 🙂 He had her hands tied up around the shower rod and a spreader bar on her ankles opened wide so she couldn’t close her legs. He loved to see her so naked and exposed for him. He was trying to keep his composure as he felt his bladder filling drastically. He knew in his head what he wanted to do, but could he really do this? It had been in his head for a while off and on but this was all new to him. This was definitely the one area he was not educated in. We will see how this pans out, for now he was going to tease and use his little sex toy all he wanted. He took the wand and ran it from her neck, down to her chest. There he proceeded to run the vibrating wand in circles around her nipples. He loved seeing her move her hips, pulling at her restraints as she felt the vibrator on her nipples. He loved that lip bite, the moan that escaped her mouth with every touch. He then kept the wand going down her body, running it between her legs slowly. He made sure to run it between her pussy lips and up to that little nub full of nerves. He knew just the right angle and she’d be bucking her hips with each second he held it on her clit. He looked at her smiling mischievously, “stay still little one or I will keep up the assault on your poor aching pussy.” She moaned and pulled at her restraints she bucked her hips back as he hit her clit again. He chuckled in her ear, “what did I tell you little one?” He continued rubbing her clit with the vibrating wand, each time he could sense her getting closer to orgasm he pulled the wand away. She moaned, dropping her head and then he did it again. He brought her near the edge and denied her 5 more times. He could actually see her pussy dripping, feeling his cock grow so hard in his pants. He knew she was absolutely dying to feel his cock, looking her right in the eyes as he stripped off his bottom half. Allowing his cock to spring forward, he watched her eyes go wide as she took in his large and throbbing cock. He couldn’t wait to surprise her with what he was about to do. He knew they had talked about it but they hadn’t fully planned it yet, but seeing her standing here like this, all tied up and restrained. He just couldn’t help how bad he really wanted to do this. After finally finding a girl he knew was going to enjoy him doing this as much as he was. He told her he was going to undo her hands just enough so he could bend her forward. He helped her turn around and bend forward so he could tie her hands to the handle in the shower. He stood there taking in her naked ass, “Little one, I am going to use my hand and I will slap each cheek 10 times, and when your red is a beautiful glowing pink I am going to slide my cock deep inside that tight, wet pussy of yours.” He proceeded to do exactly as he said he was going to. He took his hand and he slapped each ass cheek of hers. He watched them turn a bright glowing pink and his cock was dripping with precum. He loved seeing her like this, tied up and now a glowing pink ass. He rubbed the head of his cock along her slit. She was moaning with each stroke up and down with his cock. He then grabbed her by her throat and while he did he slipped his throbbing cock into her pussy. She was moaning already, it was only about to get a whole lot louder and he knew that. He thrusted inside her pussy, enjoying the feeling of her pussy surrounding his cock. He stopped while still inside her, he took a deep breath, closing his eyes and he didn’t have to push too hard before the flow started. He very much needed this release and to do it inside her pussy was so hot to him. As soon as he started going she was moaning like crazy. Oh my god! She was really loving this! He quickly filled her pussy and felt it coming back out at him. He stopped his stream groaning, “How are you doing little one?” She just moaned and this made him grab her by her hair, “I asked you a question little one.” She nodded, “Yes sir! I am doing amazing and I love this!” He started his release again, filling her pussy even more, stopping as it came back out at him again. He knew he was nowhere near done, but he really wanted to also watch her eyes as he soaks her body too. As he pulled out he watched all of his pee rush from her pussy. He moaned as he stroked himself, “little one I am going to undo your restraints now and I want you down on your knees in front of me.” He undid all her restraints and as he did she got to her knees right in front of him. He let out a groan, god he loved such an obedient sex toy. He really needed to finish peeing and he was going to do it all over her. He knew she wasn’t a huge fan of it on her face or drinking it so he’ll start with just her tits. He started to release his bladder again, watching his pee run over her tits, down her body and pooling around her. It was such a sexy sight seeing her like this. He slowed his stream to a stop. He grabbed her by the back of her hair to get her to look up at him, “Little one I want to try this over your face, and a small bit in your mouth. Do I have your consent?” She agreed and he slowly let his stream go over her hair, down her face. Oh my god seeing her look so used as he let go of his bladder over her face. He was really enjoying this and from the looks of her face so was she. He then stopped his stream so he could get his cock to her mouth, “Little one I am just going to do this a small bit so you can taste, then I will pull out and finish on your beautiful nipples. For now.” He placed his cock on her lips and started a small stream into her mouth. She swallowed every bit of it and he moaned. He stopped his stream after a few swallows, “who do you belong to, little one?” She swallowed the last mouthful, “You sir!” He then directed his stream to her nipples and peed as hard as he could to finish his bladder. He then put his cock back in her mouth and told her to suck. She gave him one of the best blow jobs he had ever received. After he released into her mouth he helped her up and then kissed her sweetly, “let’s shower little one and then lets go get in bed to relax for a little bit before we grab dinner. He turned on the water, getting it to temperature and stepped under the shower head with her. They washed each other up and when they were both clean they turned off the shower and he helped her dry off so they could go climb into bed together. He grabbed her the comfy clothes from her bag, a couple bottles of water and some chocolate. He brought it all to her and handed her one of her liquid iv packets too, “do you need your coloring books this time or are you ok?” She smiled as she drank the first bottle of water, “I am ok this time around thank you sir.” They curled up in bed with each other to talk about what just happened. As they cuddled and talked she finished her second bottle of water. He really was enjoying this time with her. She was very obedient and he loved trying new things with her as well. He couldn’t help thinking how it would feel to watch her do what he did as well. To either just watch her pee, or maybe even feel her pee. It would be very dirty and sensual. He wondered if he could get her to do this or not, he knew it was her kink but, was it his now too, or just when he was with her? It was nice to finally explore this fantasy he’s had for a while. They ordered food and he ran to go pick it up so she didn’t have to be seen with him in public. He made sure to stop and grab her some more water on the way back too. They sat down and had dinner, she was acting shy and picking at her food. She did drink plenty of water though, which was good because anytime they did sexual activity she would need to rehydrate. He also kind of smiled to himself because she hadn’t gotten up to go pee yet. Maybe it was just a dirty fantasy, maybe he really wanted to see it. He was curious what maybe was going through her head though. She sat in the chair with her legs tight together. She should have gone while he was out, she was shy to pee when he could hear her. This room was so small, he would hear her without a doubt. She normally didn’t have a shy bladder but dangit everything about this man made her shy side come out. She should be fine. As long as he didn’t put her in another scene she couldn’t stop when she needed to. They finished their dinner and then curled back up into bed together. It was when he had a tight grip around her cuddling that it hit her hard. She had to pee, and she had to go now. She was squirming some and she heard him moan in her ear, “keep wiggling against my cock little one and I’m going to have to put it somewhere.” She giggled and groaned, “sir if you don’t let me up we will have another problem.” He pulled away and kneeled above her, “Little one is that anyway to ask for what you want?” She looked up at him squirming, “ No sir. I’m sorry I just really need to get up.” He had her stand up, “I want you to strip now little one, and you will go and stand in the shower until I say you're allowed to go. This will be your punishment.” They went to stand in the bathroom and while she stood in the shower he teased her clit. He had taken off his clothes for ease. He continued to rub her clit and she squirmed against his hand, “you cum for me little one and I will let you go.” He continued to alternate her between rubbing her clit and fingering her sweet pussy. He brought her to the edge a few more times. He couldn’t help it, he was leaving hearing her begging for him to let her go. He kept teasing her, edging her, making her beg for that release. He was just as surprised as she was when he felt the hot liquid running down his arm and pooling around their feet. He looked up into her eyes, it was at this time he decided to finally let her cum. As he felt her head fall against his shoulder as he pushed her against the wall of the shower, he let her finally go over the edge. She came so hard around his hand, then he felt the hot liquid pick up force. She was absolutely peeing herself, soaking down her legs around their feet. He was loving it, he slid his knee between her legs against her pussy. She was too in bliss from her orgasm to even notice yet that she was peeing all over herself and him. He loved it so much that she was absolutely in a state of such bliss and submission. He was loving it, and when she was just about done he turned the water on to go over both of them again. He held her close, this was a type of subspace for her and she was so beautiful standing there against him. He let the water run over them as he washed them both up. He shut off the water and grabbed them both towels. He helped dry her off and get into her comfy clothes again. He helped her into bed and after he was dried off he climbed in to hold her. He enjoyed her as he surrounded his arms around her. He loved how at peace and relaxed she was. This was what he was looking for in this girl. To let her feel completely happy and relaxed. Even using her kink in all the right ways for both of him. He doesn’t know if he would be as into this as she was but that’s ok, doing this occasionally with her would be all he needed for this time.
So, my never-ceasing desire to harvest'n hoard whatever the female desperation trope can throw at me in terms of stories and accounts finally led me down the precarious path of bottery (I made that word up, and I didn't even use AI). Obviously, I'm late to the game as there have been numerous stories posted on this forum alone generated through the ChatGPT interface (and possibly others?), and I've gotta admit, I'm not that impressed. The nuances of authentic, meaningful text will in my opinion be one of the last frontiers to be conquered by even the cleverest of algorithms and I didn't have to venture far in my attempts with said bot in order for that to be painfully obvious. I don't see human creativity becoming superflous anytime soon unless we really lower our standards. That said, I did manage to squeeze out at least one more or less convincing story out of it though, and that's the one I'm here to share with you all. What I did was initially asking it to come up with the general premise of the story and then query it about each specific moment therein, and finally arranging it all in order to fit the storyline. I made a special point of feeding it as sparsely detailed queries as possible while obviously steering it in the 'right' direction. You'd be surprised to find how many of the suspiciously specific details herein were actually generated by the AI, seemingly independent of my input; that to me was the most impressive part. I also made a point of not adding any new content to the output when editing it all together, not even single words. There are some truncation of phrases though, since it tended to repeat itself as it ran out of things to say. All in all, it turned out not half-bad although it's still somewhat iffy and sorely lacking in detail in places, but I've read far worse post written by actual human beings, so count me fairly satisfied in the end. I'm probably not going to utilize it again anytime soon, but you've got to try everything at least once, right? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Sarah's date distaster Sarah and Jack were both looking forward to their first date, they had met online and had hit it off right away. They had decided to go to the movies, Sarah was feeling a bit nervous but excited to finally meet Jack in person. She had spent some time picking her outfit. She had chosen a red suspender dress that she felt complemented her figure nicely. She paired it with a red and white gingham shirt, unbuttoned collar underneath, a pair of white tights and black heels. She wanted to look her best but also feel comfortable. Before the movie, Jack and Sarah met at a park near the theater. Jack was a bit nervous, but Sarah was visibly more nervous, but Jack did not notice it. They walked around the park, chatting and laughing. They talked about their favorite movies and TV shows, and Jack couldn't help but notice how beautiful Sarah looked in the warm afternoon light. They sat on a bench by a pond and Jack told her about his love for fishing and how peaceful it was to sit by the water and just relax. Sarah listened intently, thinking that Jack is such a nice guy and he is really making an effort to make her feel comfortable and have a good time. As they walked to the theater, Sarah was already feeling the urge to use the restroom. She had been holding it in for a while, but Sarah's urgency continued to increase. She was thinking about finding a restroom before the movie, but she was also worried about bringing it up to Jack and potentially ruining the date. She didn't want to seem desperate or rude, so she kept it to herself. As they walked towards the theater, Jack took Sarah's hand and she felt her heart skip a beat. They chatted and laughed as they walked, but Sarah's discomfort was growing with each step. She was trying to hold it in, but the thought of not finding a restroom before the movie was making her anxious. She tried to distract herself by chatting with Jack and focusing on the movie they were about to see, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. Once they arrived at the theater, Sarah was relieved to find a restroom but the queue was too long. She didn't want to hold Jack up, so she decided to wait until after the movie. They bought their tickets and grabbed some snacks before heading into the theater. Sarah was really excited, but she was also getting more and more desperate for the bathroom. But she didn't want to ruin the moment by bringing it up, so she kept quiet and hoped she could hold it until the movie was over. As they settled into their seats, she realized that she needed to use the bathroom. But, she was too shy to say anything, and thought she could hold it until the movie was over. Sarah tried to focus on the movie and enjoy the moment, but her desperation for the bathroom was growing stronger. She kept shifting in her seat and crossing her legs tightly, trying to hold it in. She was also trying to make sure that Jack couldn't see how uncomfortable she was. As the movie played on, Sarah's desperation grew, but she tried to hide it, crossing her legs tightly and shifting in her seat. Sarah's mind started to wander and she couldn't focus on the plot. All she could think about was finding a bathroom. She kept looking around the theater, hoping to spot a sign for the bathroom, but she couldn't see one. At one point, Jack turned to her and asked if she was ok, but Sarah just smiled and said she was fine, not wanting to ruin the date by bringing up her bathroom issues. Jack noticed that she was a bit tense but didn't know what was the reason. As the movie came to an end, Sarah knew she was running out of time and was getting more and more panicked. She tried to hold on until the credits were over. She had to tell Jack what was going on but after the movie was finished, Sarah was still too shy to mention her need for the bathroom to Jack. They were still seated in the movie theater, and she was trying to hold it in as they waited for the other movie-goers to leave the theater. As they got up to leave, she was looking around for a toilet to sneak away but the bathroom inside the movie theater was closed, but there were no queues to the toilets in the lobby. She could have used the restroom at that moment, but she was too shy to mention it to Jack and didn't want to ruin the moment by bringing it up. She followed Jack out of the theater but her urgency was growing stronger, and it was getting harder for her to hold on. Sarah was still too shy to mention her need for the bathroom to Jack. She was trying to hold it in as they left the theater, but her desperation was growing. Jack suggested they grab a coffee at a nearby cafe and they quickly walked there. On their way to the cafe, she kept looking around for a toilet to sneak away. They passed a public restroom located in a park, but unfortunately, it was closed. Sarah saw it and felt a wave of disappointment, but didn't mention it to Jack. As they continued walking towards the cafe, Sarah kept looking around for a bathroom. Jack could see that Sarah was becoming more and more uncomfortable but didn't know the reason. Sarah was too shy to mention her need. They walked past a few more public restrooms on the way, but Sarah didn't want to raise Jack's suspicion, so she had to be subtle about it. As Sarah and Jack walked by a 7-11, Sarah noticed the store and was desperate to find a restroom. Her urgency was increasing with each step. She was looking around for a place to use the restroom, and when she spotted the 7-11 store, she felt a glimmer of hope. She was trying to find a way to bring it up to Jack without sounding too desperate, but her shyness made it difficult for her to speak up. As they passed by the store, Sarah tried to look inside, hoping to find a restroom sign. But as she peered inside, she noticed that the store didn't have a restroom sign and she felt disappointed and frustrated. Jack saw her disappointment and asked what was wrong, but she was too shy to tell him the truth. She just brushed it off and they continued on their way to the cafe. The incident at the 7-11 only added to her discomfort and urgency, making an accident more difficult to avoid. As they walked past a gas station, Sarah casually mentioned that she needed to buy something from the convenience store and asked Jack to wait for her outside while she went in. She walked into the store and quickly made her way to the restroom, but when she saw the "closed for repairs" sign, she felt her heart sink. She was getting more and more desperate, but didn't want to raise Jack's suspicion. Sarah then approached the attendant and asked if the restroom was available, the attendant replied that it was out of order. Sarah thanked the attendant and pretended to buy something and came out with a discouraged expression on her face, Jack didn't notice anything unusual. She was trying to think of a way to excuse herself to use the restroom, but with every closed or occupied bathroom they passed, her options were becoming limited. As they continued walking towards the cafe, they did not pass any other bathroom on their way. She couldn't find an opportunity to use the restroom before they reached the cafe. Sarah was getting more and more desperate, but still couldn't bring herself to mention it to Jack. She was trying to hold on as long as she could, but it was getting harder and harder. Her mind was racing and she didn't know what to do. She was too embarrassed to tell Jack what was happening and too desperate to hold on much longer. As Sarah and Jack approached the cafe, Sarah's urgency had reached its peak. She was trying to hold it in as much as possible, but she knew it was only a matter of time before she would no longer be able to do so. The thought of finally being able to use the restroom was overwhelming, she could feel the relief in her mind. She was trying to focus on the cafe, and when they finally reached it, she felt hopeful. When they reached the cafe, Sarah was visibly panicked. She was on the brink of tears and her desperation was at an all-time high. She saw the bathroom sign, but when she tried to go in, it was locked. She turned to Jack and said "It's locked, what am I going to do?" Jack could see that she was on the verge of tears and knew she needed to use the bathroom urgently. He finally became aware of her urgency at that moment and he could see how much discomfort and embarrassment she was going through. He tried to look for another solution, and immediately went to the staff and asked if there was another bathroom available or if they could open the locked restroom for Sarah's urgent need. The staff member apologized and informed him that the restroom was closed for cleaning. As they stood before the employee, Sarah was visibly panicked and her face was flushed. She was shifting her weight from one foot to another, crossing her legs tightly and trying to hide her discomfort. The employee could see that she was in a state of distress and Jack quickly explained the urgency of the situation and begged the employee to let Sarah use the restroom. But it was too late, Sarah's urgency had reached a critical point and she couldn't hold it any longer. As she desperately tried to hold it, the employee could see the wetness seeping through her dress and the puddle forming on the floor. The staff member offered to let Sarah use the employee restroom. Jack quickly thanked the staff member and led Sarah to the employee restroom as quickly as possible, as it was the only option available for her. Her steps were unsteady as her tights were wet and slippery, her dress was clinging to her legs. She ran off trying to reach the restroom, but it was too late, she had an accident right there in front of everyone. She was trying to hold on to her clothes, crossing her legs and trying to hide the wetness but she wet herself before reaching the restroom. The wetness was visibly noticeable and the odor was strong. The other customers present in the cafe noticed Sarah's wet clothes and the puddle forming on the floor, they noticed the smell and heard the commotion caused by Jack and the employee. Jack felt devastated and mortified for Sarah, and Sarah was too embarrassed to even look at him. She quickly rushed out of the cafe, not knowing what to do. Her first date ended in disaster and she didn't know if she would ever be able to face Jack again.
The Pumas and Jaguars went toe to toe scoring one after the other. The crowd buzzed with excitement as parents rooted for their child to win for their school. Even the school principals were arguing with each other who was the school team. Gretchen being class president behaved more docile than usual. She was maturing real fast thanks to the job and Octavia. The Pumas led by their star Damon were locked in a battle for the soccer ball with the Jaguars star player Gavin. Both cheerleading squads were intense cheering. Neither side wanted their star player to lose at all. But Hortense was still falling behind. It was 5:32 pm and still the second quarter of the game. At first, she got it together but that faded soon after. Again, she found herself in danger of wetting herself. She did the jumping and lifting one leg up. But that eventually made things worse. Not to mention, she kept her skirt down over her lower region. At times, she had to hold herself and ... for another reason. But now, she moved stiffly and the only thing on her mind was the chance for a toilet break. She longed for the break as her previous one was held up by a long line. She figured it wasn't too long now before the next break and she had half a mind to dash over to the restrooms. She looked back occasionally to see the bathrooms available. No queue period. Now was her chance. But how was she to sneak off. The rest of her squad was so focused on Damon and his closest team members, looking to their left. Hortense was on their right. She was about to sneak off when her urge to go worsened again. This time, her urethra throbbed and quivered as the pressure from holding was stronger and more intense. Hortense was running out of time. She had been holding in what was a sea of golden liquid due to her gluttonous nature. She always drank too much during lunch break and especially during this very hot day. The air conditioning didn't work and the classrooms were humid. At least the windows were open but she kept drinking water the whole day. It finally made her way to her bladder, accumulating and eventually making its way to the exit hole. She always waited too long just like the last two times she ran into the cafeteria boys bathroom. This time, she was unable to even use the bathroom. A few of the Pumas squad knew this but their captain didnt know her very well. Kassiana Kord just became cheerleading captin for the school cheerleading squad. Hortense woiod try to hide her desperation from her as well as the fact that she didnt drink this much water in the afternoons. Today was abnormally hot and she drank way more than usual, and waiting too long. Plus, she was sluggishly lazy and didn't feel like making a trip. Furthermore, she slept after last class outside in her car. She woke up 10 minutes before the game started. She ran inside only to be met by her captain. Kassiana was annoyed seeing Hortense almost late, ordered her to get dressed, ushered her outside. Hortense was desperate then and even more now. She had to pee and unlike A.A., her willpower was more pitiful. But she could last a little bit. At least A.A. (who had a fee diuretic pills in her system lasted a whole day despite spurting several times. Hortense was holding herself while trying to do the poses and failing to keep up. She spoke strained and softly too. At last, the second 5-minute break signal was given. Hortense quickly turned away. Her captain called out for a team meeting but Hortense didn't care as she was already several feet away. She could see her ticket for relief right in front of her past the fence separating the players and the spectators on the bleachers. She walked awkwardly and in small strides. She bobbed up and down at one point, keeping her hands wedged between her legs. She was 2 yards away when suddenly, a hand spun Hortense around. Kassiana was turning beet red and Hortense was stopped in her tracks. She lost her balance a little bit. In the process, a few drops emerged from her and onto the inside of her thighs pressed together. "Excuse me we have a quick meeting. Get your butt back there now!". But Hortense had to pee or else. She just had to go. "But-" "NOW! Get back there!". But Hortense didn't want. "I need a pee now!". Kassiana didn't want to listen to little school whining. "Get back ... hey get back here. Don't walk away from me.". Hortense was going to hear it now. "You do as your told and get back that team spirit. Our team's ends precede your own. This is for our school. So buck up and hold your water." Hortense was taken aback and turned towards the bathroom stall only to find the door shut closed. Hortense ran over to the door and tried to open it only to find it locked. "She banged on the door and asked to be let in. But the person inside didn't respond. Kassiana herded Hortense back to the field with Hortense protesting and spurting a few times as she was forced back to the field. Inside the stall was the 12th grade germphobe girl (Please see Bursting School Day Bladders!). She proceeded to wipe down the toilet seat thoroughly and repeatedly followed by the flush handle, the sink, and soap dispenser. And do it very slowly. She always took her sweat time. She was hated for this but strangely never picked on. The game was back on and Hortense was in worse shape now that missed another opportunity to pee. She was severely desperate for relief. And she needed it badly. The Pumas cheered for Damon, the team, and the school. "Damon Damon he's our man gooOOOO Pumas go Nolan High!". Hortense had to start doing the rocket posed to lift up the leg and lock hands with two cheerleaders on either side of her. She couldn't hold herself and smif she had another bad wave of desperation (worse than she was having now), forget it. And let's not forget the pyramid.
For Hortense, lifting her leg was going to be trouble. As it was, her wave of desperation throbbed as her urethra churned. She had to keep cheering and openly. She couldn't hold herself nor freely stop to deal with an urge that's growing. For the next 12 minutes, she couldn't move as fluidly as she wanted, and at times she stopped to fight it. That meant while the other cheerleaders were doing the rockets, she stood stiff and pressed her thighs against each other. At one point, she winced so badly and stood as such for the longest 30 seconds of her life. Her urge to go became so bad she couldn't focus at all. Jiji tapped her several times to focus back. But Hortense couldn't return so easily. Jiji knew Hortense had to pee now and realized she was in serious trouble. So did the girl next to her Dynah Drayton. Hortense had this seriously worried look but tried to return to cheering. But she couldn't raise her legs high enough and her body was sweating with exhaustion from expending energy to fight the urge. "Go P-pumas gogo you can do it no one can beat us" she said softly and totally out of sync. Currently, the Jaguars team was winning by two points, and another one and another. So many in the crowd began cheering and/or jeering for the Jaguars. Vice Principal Shida and Gretchen were becoming disappointed. Even for Gretchen, who was just getting used to behaving like a professional, yelled like a die-hard fan. Octavia did her usual nerdy analysis of the situation. But as for Hortense, she just couldn't keep up anymore. Each and every step or lifting of her leg brought her golden liquid closer to accidentally escaping. Raising her leg, even a little, made her feel uneasy as it pressed against her bladder and stretched her lower region between her legs. And it didn't help when her feet struck the ground. Her mind was preoccupied with the possible flood that could happen and didn't care about the soccer game. If she just got her chance to pee may be she would care more. Up in the stand, the husband and wife were looking worried and upset. The wife couldn't believe the poor girl couldn't just go for a pee. The husband was focused on the Pumas team doing terribly. "Come on! Gosh darn it. I did far better than you all did. They just don't make them like they used to." he said. He was a former Pumas player for the school way back when. Hortense was in deep trouble and couldn't keep up. Again, she stopped and this time, Jiji and Dynah stopped cheering too. "What the hell? Just hold it until next break. It's about 2 minutes away." Jiji said. "Come one you're making us look bad." Dynah said. Hortense replied in a strained manner "I can't hold it. I have to pee!". But the crowd went wild as the Pumas scored a goal. It was 7 - 9 and still the Jaguars were in the lead. But Kassiana shouted to her squad members (Hortense, Jiji, and Dynah) to get back in the game. "Wake up you three and keep cheering. Our team needs our cheering." Hortense remained impeded and moved stiffly. Dynah and Jiji continued to cheer in the same manner. Then, when break occurred again, the squad broke formation for a break. Kassiana wasn't having any of this. But the cheerleading squad of the Jaguars called out to Kassiana. "Yo Kas, having potty problems? Guess ya'll have small bladders! (Laughter)". Kassiana told her to stuff where the sun doesn't shine. Then, she turned to Hortense who already walked away. She was already outside the gate and towards the bathroom. She had to pee and now. Kassiana went after only to be stopped by the Pumas coach. "What the hell is with your cheerleaders? That's rhetorical! Get it together or else. Your low moral is costing us!". Poor Kassiana didn't enjoy this accusation. She promised a stellar cheering and still got this. Hortense was just about to go inside when an elderly woman outside stopped her. "Excuse me. I'm next so back off." The elderly woman pushed her over, causing her to spurt a small jet onto her lower left leg. Hortense regained her footing but was denied her chance again. The door opened and the elderly woman went inside. Out came Jasmine Jax, another spectator watching her brother Victor Jax from the bleachers. Victor Jax was the star Pumas defensive player. Hortense wedged her hands between her legs and kept her thighs pressed together. Her knees bent and her torso hunched forward. She bobbed up and down, winced and gritting her teeth. She waited impatiently, looking behind her and in front of her. She couldn't just not show up but she had to pee. If she didn't, forget it. And she couldn't just pee out here. For the next 2 minutes (only 4.5 minutes left of the entire 3rd break), she waited clutching herself via her skirt. Her mind was racing, her heart pounding, her body bobbing up and down. 'How long is this old bag going to be? I could've been peeing right now. And Kassiana is going to kill me if I don't show up.' A part of her just wanted to let it all go. A part of her wanted to just have relief in the toilet. Time was running out and she knew. She knocked on the door but the woman cursed at Hortense. She had to pee and fast. She looked down at the ground, then at the stall, and behind her. The teams were assembling again. She had a minute or a little more left. She had to take action. She chose to go behind the portable stall but. She didn't want to be seen by the passing traffic. She cursed and thought again. Just then, she heard yelling and saw a mother hitting her little boy for peeing behind the bleachers. They walked away and returned to the bleachers. She figured that same practice might be her only ticket. But she had to get behind them. She gingerly walked behind the bleachers only to be caught by Kassiana. She walked over to the fence, calling Hortense with authority and anger. Hortense didn't want to wait any longer and walked a little faster to the backside of the bleachers. "Hey hey come back here. Hortense!" Kassiana called out.
It was the last 15 minutes of the game and at last, the Pumas finally tied with the Jaguars. It was 9-9 score and still no clear winner after an hour. These games can go on for another hour or two. Just to get the winner. It was time to end the tie and finally declare a winner. The Jaguars cheered fiercely and gave all the support they could muster. So did the parents and school staff from Chester Arthur High School. However, the Pumas cheerleading team still had the issue with Hortense despite everyone else doing their best. Hortense was in serious danger of wetting herself and it only got worse. Each step took caused even more swishing and her dam was quivering. It might have even buckled a little. Hortense thought she felt some sort of wetness escape her for a brief second. But she was being watched now and couldn't just leave where she was. Furthermore, she frequently stopped to press her thighs together to fight this one incessantly throbbing urge to go. It was unbearable for her and all that water she drank. She was so hydrated and of course her stubborn immature nature has gotten to her. Each second that went by was torture for her. She wished she could just take a pee break. She needed one so badly. 'Gawd I wished I just let it all loose behind the bleachers. I should've just risked being seen for relief. That way I could cheer better.'. Poor Hortense, but she knew it was her fault. If only, she didn't drink so much water and wait so long, nor take a nap before using the toilet this wouldn't have been an issue. And it wasn't as though Camilla was around anymore. What was she to do? She could feel every swish and her exit hole shaking. She had to stop more often now to make sure she didn't leak. But that ship sailed as during the second half of the last 15 minutes, Hortense spurted twice. She stopped temporarily only to receive an elbow to her right side to get back to cheering. This wasn't going to be good for the team if she didn't do more to cheer for their school. But all she needed was a pee break. What's a cheerleader to do? Just then, someone shouted "Heads up". Hortense looked up and quickly moved out of the way. She flinched her head and torso backwards to avoid the soccer ball. Luckily it didn't hit her and avoiding an accident. It would have been a nightmare for Hortense. However, another Pumas cheerleader was struck in the face. She fell down, brining down a good portion of the cheerleading squad for the Pumas. Hortense felt a momentary yank on her arm, causing her to spurt on her left leg. The spurt dribbled down to where her ankle met her shoe. Again, she avoided a major accident. But now she was severely bursting. And all this couldn't be of help, nor seeing that the cheerleader knocked down. This cheerleader wasn't just nose bleeding, but also couldn't get up. This person, Teya Trey, still on her butt was having an accident. When Kassiana went to check on her, she noticed Teya wetting herself. A huge wet spot appeared on her white undergarment, becoming larger and darker. In addition, a small stream emerged from the fabric which created a puddle immediately underneath Teya. She was sobbing from the pain and her accident. Kassiana consoled her and asked Diedra Dormer to get Nurse Talia. Hortense was livid and the sight of this made her spurt followed by a second of pissing. Her thighs and legs were drenched with a couple of rivulets. Hortense closed up the exit hole but she was even more desperate in her mind. The coach accompanied by the nurse came over to help Teya out of the arena. " Don't worry Teya, I'm taking you to my office bathroom." Hortense couldn't believe what she heard. Just as Hortense was about to ask, she was brought back in line. Kassiana continued to cheer. Hortense was in trouble. She had to pee badly. By the time the last 15 minutes was over, Hortense left formation and ran off to the portable bathroom. She didn't want to waste time and get her due pee break. But as she went over to the portable stall, she saw the sign which made her heart sank. There was a sign stating "Out of Order". And the school didn't allow for students to use the toilet during the game. From there, she ran while keeping her hands wedged between her legs over to behind the bleachers. But again, she was denied as Kassiana caught up with her. "Hortense what are you doing? Get back here." But Hortense didn't care and just made her way behind the bleachers. However, again that ship sailed. She just saw Principal Shida, V.P. Reynolds, and class president Gretchen dealing with a student taking a piss break behind the bleachers. "But the portable stall was out of order so where can I go. And the school building is locked." the student said. Principal Shida replied "That is why you ask before going inside! Come see me after this game!". Kassiana also seeing the same thing and caught up with Hortense. "Hey its' time to get back to the game.". But Hortense replied in a strained manner "I have to pee. I've pissed myself a little a couple of times. I can't hold it anymore. I need to pee now!". Kassiana didn't care and brought her back to the field along with Principal Shida. Shida saw Hortense and inquired if everything was alright. When Kassiana explained she was trying to prevent Hortense from having an accident, Principal Shida gave the same response as with the previous student and told Hortense to either return to the game or ask for entry. But the coach came back stating the game was about to start again to break the tie. Hortense protested and didn't want to wait. She chose to squat and take her break. She lifted her skirt and revealed she went commando! Commando and in front of everyone. Then, as Kassiana was about to order her to stop, out came a torrent of her gold liquid. Everyone gasped. Even Gretchen, although some part of her understood as she still had that rebellious side of her at times. But as much as she understood, yet she had to set a better example. She had to side with the Principal Shida. Kassiana, Pumas coach, the school principal and vice principal all turned beet red, while Gretchen was shocked. She felt she was looking at herself. Hortense also blushed but from her point of view this isn't what she wanted. She just wanted to pee. The coach didn't know what to do. Kassiana stormed off and went to get a substitute cheerleader. The school principal and vice principal kept there arms folded on their chest, and Gretchen went back to the game. Once she was finished, she was met by the principal and vice principal. They brought Hortense back to the office for disciplinary action. In the end, the Pumas won the tournament and the Jaguars went home disappointed but accepted the loss. As for the cheerleading squad, Kassiana was happy the cheering for the final 15 minutes worked without Hortense. Jiji and Dynah were happy they didn't have to worry about a piss desperate cheerleader. They had the substitute Gia Ingersol. As for Hortense, she faced detention for a week, and lost her right to attend graduation. She did graduate though. Luckily, no one else saw her pee. Well except for the wife from earlier too, who happened to be Mrs. Howard! (P.S. I wanted the story to end where by Hortense was lifted at the top of the cheerleading pyramid next to Kassiana Kord, standing awkardly, and unable to stand properly, and eventually piss all over those beneath her. But that was too disgusting so I just changed the ending. And this was too prolonged anyway. Sorry!) Hope you all liked this story. I am also considering a story for Susan Storm from the Fantastic 4.
Hey everyone. I have been impressed with the recent AI-generated stories posted here, so I decided to try one of my own as a first attempt. The writing below is almost wholly AI driven, with some minor edits along the way. I asked the ChatGPT AI to write a short paragraph for my prompts, which I used to nudge the story in the direction I wanted it to go. The story itself is very mild, no sexual content or wetting. it is simply a desperation story based on a situation experienced by someone I knew. --------- Kalina groggily opened her eyes, her head pounding with a fierce headache. She lay there for a few moments, trying to gather her thoughts and piece together the events of the previous night. As she began to come to her senses, she suddenly heard the sound of another person breathing beside her. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized that she had done it again - she had gotten extremely drunk and woke up in a stranger's bed. She cautiously turned her head to the side and looked at the man lying next to her. In her sober state, she knew she would have never gone for him. He was unkempt, with a scruffy beard and unruly hair. She felt a wave of disgust wash over her as she wondered how she had let herself get into this situation once more. She knew she needed to get out of there as quickly as possible, before the reality of the situation sunk in any further. As she slipped out of the stranger's bed, she noticed that it was still only 5am, but the daylight had already begun to peek through the window, a reminder that it was already early summer. She quickly dressed herself in her clothes from the night before, feeling a sense of embarrassment and disgust wash over her as she remembered the events that had led to her current situation. Kalina was a slim but beautiful girl, with long, wavy dark hair and a petite frame. She had chosen to wear a black lace blouse that accentuated her curves, denim hotpants that were so short they barely covered her bum, and a pair of cute white sandals. She knew that she looked good, but as she looked at herself in the mirror, she couldn't shake the feeling that her actions of the previous night had cheapened her appearance. But before leaving the stranger's house, she decided to quickly freshen up and take her morning pee. She tried the door to the bathroom, but to her dismay, it was occupied. Apparently, the stranger's roommate was already awake and showering. Kalina swore to herself, feeling a wave of frustration wash over her. She knew that she needed to get out of the house as quickly and discreetly as possible. She quickly grabbed her purse and headed towards the door, trying not to make any noise as she made her escape. As she stepped outside, she took a deep breath and tried to shake off the feeling of shame that had settled over her. She knew that this was a situation she never wanted to find herself in again. Kalina walked down the street, feeling the weight of the judgemental eyes of strangers upon her. She knew that she must have looked like a total mess, still in her revealing Saturday night clothes, her hair in disarray, and her gait unsteady from the alcohol consumed the night before. She could feel the pounding headache that was starting to set in, a result of the excessive drinking, and her throat felt dry and parched. Despite the warm summer weather, the early morning air was chilly against her bare legs, making her regret not having grabbed a jacket before leaving her house the night before. She knew that she must have looked ridiculous walking down the street at this time, with her short denim shorts and bare legs. She could already imagine the rumours that would spread once people saw her in this state, the whispers and the judgement. She walked with her head down, trying to avoid the gaze of anyone she passed by, feeling a sense of shame and embarrassment wash over her. She knew that she needed to get back home as quickly as possible, to take a shower and try to forget this whole incident. Her mind was racing with thoughts of what she could have done differently, how she could have avoided this situation. She knew that she needed to make a change, to take control of her life and not let herself fall into this pattern again. As she walked, the sun began to rise, casting a warm orange glow over the city. Ten minutes into her walk, Kalina began to regret not having taken her morning pee before leaving the stranger's house. Her bladder was full from all the wine consumed the previous night, and the chilly air was not helping matters. She still had another 40 minutes walk to go, by her calculations of where she was. She tried to ignore the feeling, but it became increasingly difficult as time passed. She knew that she couldn't hold it for much longer and would have to find a solution soon. She quickened her pace, her eyes scanning the street for any sign of a public restroom or a convenience store that might be open at this early hour. As she walked, she felt a sense of urgency growing within her, and she knew that she needed to find a restroom as soon as possible. She felt a wave of disappointment as she realized that at this hour, all the stores and public restrooms were closed. The pain and discomfort in her bladder increased with every step she took, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of frustration and embarrassment. A few minutes later she spotted a bus stop in the distance, and her eyes quickly scanned the timetable posted next to it. According to the schedule, the first bus into the center where her home was located was in twenty minutes. She wondered if she should risk waiting for the bus, since the service was sometimes unreliable. She weighed her options, knowing that waiting for the bus would mean that she could finally use the restroom and avoid a very uncomfortable walk, but also it could mean that she would have to wait for a long time if the bus was delayed or didn't show up. In the end, she decided to take the risk and wait for the bus. She knew that she couldn't take it much longer and that the bus would be the quickest way for her to finally get home and use the restroom. She took a seat on the bench and tried to distract herself by looking at her phone and checking for any updates on the bus schedule. To Kalina, these twenty minutes seemed like an eternity. She was freezing, the early morning air biting against her arms and bare legs. She tried to do anything to take her mind off her need to pee, pacing back and forth, crossing and uncrossing her legs, even holding herself at one point. But nothing seemed to work, the discomfort and the urgency only seemed to increase with each passing moment. She couldn't help but feel a sense of frustration and embarrassment as she thought about how she had ended up in this situation. She knew that she should have been more responsible and taken care of her needs before leaving the stranger's house. She couldn't help but feel a sense of disgust with herself as she remembered the events of the previous night. Twenty minutes came and went, and the bus still hadn't arrived. Kalina began to panic, her need to use the restroom becoming increasingly urgent. An old man sat next to her on the bus stop, clearly fascinated by her beauty and probably curious about her strange antics. She tried to ignore him, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he was judging her. Her bladder was aching and she thought about walking back home, but she knew that it would take too long and she couldn't bear the discomfort any longer. As she sat there, she knew that she had no choice but to find a solution. She thought about the possibility of finding a restroom nearby, a gas station, or a nearby fast-food chain. She quickly scanned the area, but there was nothing in sight. She felt a wave of frustration wash over her as she realized that she had no other option but to hold it. Kalina sat there, feeling the weight of her predicament. She made a mental note to be more responsible in the future and to take care of her needs before putting herself in this type of situation again. Five minutes after the bus was scheduled to arrive, the old man sitting next to Kalina attempted to make conversation. "Bus late as usual," he said with a chuckle. Kalina could only nod in agreement, her mind preoccupied with her urgent need to use the restroom. She tried to make small talk with the old man, but her mind was elsewhere and she could only focus on the discomfort and the urgency of her situation. "Wild night out?" the old man chuckled again, scanning Kalina's outfit and trying to pursue the conversation. Kalina felt her face flush with embarrassment, she knew that she must have looked like a mess. She didn't know how to respond to the old man's comment, and she could only force out a weak smile, trying to hide the shame and embarrassment she was feeling. She didn't want to share the details of her night with a stranger, and she just wanted to get home as soon as possible and forget about this whole incident. Kalina was getting more and more uncomfortable, the old man's presence and attempts to engage in conversation were only making her feel worse. She didn't know how much longer she could hold it and just wanted to get home, use the restroom and take a shower to forget the whole situation. She could only hope that the bus would arrive soon and put an end to this uncomfortable situation. Kalina, feeling embarrassed and desperate, decided to tell the old man the truth about her situation. "Actually, sir, I have a more urgent need," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "I've been drinking and really need to find a toilet. Do you know of any place nearby where I could use the restroom?". Her face went bright red with embarassment as she spoke the words she hoper she would never have to speak again to a total stranger. But desperate times call for desperate measures. The old man's expression softened as he understood her predicament. "I'm sorry, my dear. I didn't realize," he said sympathetically. "Unfortunately, there's nothing open at this hour. The closest option would be a cafe close by that opens at 6, but that's still 20 minutes away." Kalina felt a wave of disappointment wash over her, she knew that she would struggle to hold it that long. "I understand, thank you for your help," she said, trying to hide the distress in her voice. "I'll just have to hold it until I get home." The old man nodded understandingly and they sat in silence, Kalina counting the minutes until she could finally get home and take care of her needs. At long last, the bus arrived, ten minutes late. Kalina felt a wave of relief wash over her as she saw the bus pulling up to the stop. She quickly gathered her things and made her way to the bus, eager to finally be on her way home. As she boarded the bus, she couldn't help but feel grateful for the fact that the bus was just late and not a missed trip, and that at least she could focus on just holding on for the time being. She made her way to a seat at the back of the bus, trying to find a comfortable position to hold herself. The bus ride was bumpy and it made her feel even more uncomfortable. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths, trying to distract herself from the discomfort and the urgency of her situation. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the bus pulled up to her stop, and she hurried off the bus. She walked quickly to her apartment, her mind focused on the one thing that mattered right now: getting home and using the restroom. Kalina walked the ten minutes from the bus stop to her home, every step was agony. Her bladder was aching and the urgency to use the restroom was becoming unbearable. She tried to focus on something else, anything else, to take her mind off the discomfort, but it was impossible. Every step she took felt like a lifetime. She quickened her pace, her eyes focused on the entrance to her building. She knew that she was so close now. She felt a sense of relief as she finally made her way inside. She entered the elevator to her apartment, but she lived on the twelfth floor and the elevator seemed super slow. She stood in the corner, holding herself, legs crossed, bouncing up and down. The elevator felt like it was taking forever, and each second seeming like an eternity. She could feel the pressure in her bladder building and knew that she couldn't hold it much longer. She glanced at the elevator's floor indicator, willing it to move faster. Her mind raced with thoughts of what she would do if the elevator got stuck, she knew that she would wet herself here. She could feel the sweat starting to bead on her forehead as she shifted nervously from foot to foot. Finally, the elevator reached her floor and the doors opened with a ding. Kalina rushed out of the elevator, her mind focused on the one thing that mattered right now: getting to her apartment and using the restroom. As Kalina was fumbling with her keys, her old neighbour came out of her apartment, taking her little poodle for a walk. The neighbour attempted to engage Kalina in conversation, asking her how she was and commenting on the weather. She tried to make small talk with her neighbour, but her mind was elsewhere, focused on the urgency of her situation. She could feel the pressure in her bladder building and knew that she couldn't hold it much longer. She could see the concern in her neighbour's eyes as she realized that something was wrong. Kalina, feeling embarrassed, told her neighbour about her situation. Her neighbour, understanding her urgency, said goodbye and let her go. Kalina finally unlocked the door and rushed into her house. She quickly made her way to the bathroom, her hands shaking with the effort of holding it in. She finally reached the bathroom and quickly locked the door behind her. She let out a sigh of relief as she peed a river with a loud hiss. After she was done, she took a moment to catch her breath and gather her thoughts. She knew that this was a learning experience and that she needed to be more responsible and take care of her needs before putting herself in such a situation again. She also knew that she needed to address her drinking habits and avoid getting drunk again to avoid similar situations. Feeling refreshed and relieved, Kalina showered and made her way to her bedroom, ready to get some rest and start the new day with a new perspective. -------- Update: In keeping with the spirit of AI, I used another free AI tool (deepAI) to generate an image based on the description provided of the girl and what she is wearing. Here is the output: Edited January 21 by kokandra123 (see edit history)
A girl and a boy know each other from internet since some months. They chatted about their intimate desires and sexual lust. The girl was just a few months over 18, she was well bred and was from a good family, but she had a special kind of perverse lust, she always dreamed about to spend a night together with two boys, she wanted to lie with two boys in one bed and she wanted to have sex with two boys at once. The boy had a friend who knew about the girl and her wishes and could not wait for to realize it together with his friend. They scheduled to spend a weekend together in a cabin in the woods. The two boys had furthermore except sex, the lust for girls desperate to wee. They wanted to use this weekend to make the girl hold her wee for so long as possible and to fill her bladder to its absolutely limit. For that reason rented the boy a little cottage. It was like a little village in the wood with more cabins to rent. The boy did know very well that there would be no toilet inside, the toilet and the showers were for all cabins in an extra cottage. Absolutely perfect for the boys purpose. On the special day they picked the girl up in the morning. In reality she was more pretty than at the screen. She had a cute face and a slim sexy body and how already mentioned, she was well bred and behaved to be a girl. She was like a girl should be, trained to discipline and trained to control her bodily needs. Girls have to wait until they get a natural opportunity until than they have to wait and to hold it, therefore she was bred. She was a girl who would not ask for a toilet, not even if she would need one real urgently. At that journey the boys went to the toilet at lunch, the girl did not go. They did not give her a really good chance and so she was waiting for a better opportunity. She did not get one. Late afternoon they came to a forest road, there was a closed gate where they had to stop. Two cars were waiting in front of them. It did take a while until a man opened the gate until they could go on. Just a little later they arrived at the village. As soon as they stopped was a girl getting out from the car in front of them. She was standing with her legs tight crossed and was looking around. The boys did know very well what for she was searching and they did know very well that she was needing a toilet for a much needed wee. At the same moment as they wanted to get out of the car came a ranger and told them that they have to stay in their cars, because of dangerous animals. The poor girl with the crossed legs had to go back in the car and the boys loved it that she was forced to hold it longer. About a half hour later they were allowed to go in their cabins. The ranger told them that they should stay inside for safety until sunrise. As soon as they entered the cabin the girl realized that there was no toilet inside. The boys did know that, they went out and pissed beside the door. The girl with the crossed legs was also squatting beside the door at the neighbor cottage. She was pissing like a cow, she must have been forced to hold it for extreme long and she must have been full to burst. As the boys came back said one of the boys “ you have not been at the toilet all day long, don’t you not need to go?” ”Oh yes i would need to go very urgently, but i have to wait for safety until tomorrow after sunrise.” answered the girl. ” Can you do that, can you bear up for so long without a wee ?” asked one of the boys. ”I don’t know it and i don’t even want to think about it. There is no other way for me than to hold it, i have to endure that, but there will be another problem, you boys can’t fuck me with my bladder so full, i am sure that i would wet the bed.” Sure that the boys wanted to have sex with the girl, but they loved that situation as well. It was hot and arousing for them to lie in the bed with a girl who did not wee all day long, who was needing to go really bad, but was forced to hold it until morning. They stripped their clothes until they were naked and laid in the bed. The girls bladder was visible bulging out from her lower abdomen. The boys could not resist to press and push on and in the girls belly, they could not resist to massage her firm bladder and to torture it. ”You two are real sadist, you know that i did not wee since early morning, you know that i am needing to go really bad and you press my bladder so hard to make my need worse.” said the girl. ”Oh yes, we love that!” they said and squeezed the girls breasts, pressed her bladder and pushed their fingers deep in the girls pussy. The girl could always feel 4 large boy hands on and in her slim body. She moaned from lust and from needing to wee. A little after midnight, they switched out the lights. They did lie like a sandwich, the girls slim body between the boys bodies hard and tight pressed together. ”Sleep well ! Tomorrow morning your bladder will be big as a melon and then we make your dream come true, then you will have sex with us two, but sure before you go to the toilet, before you wee, your bladder have to stay full.
Hi everyone, sorry for another long hiatus. I really shouldn’t promise anything when it comes to uploading strings of content, given how busy I am with this new semester starting up. I wanted to write this piece for you. For those of you who just want to read the story, you can skip this portion down to the italics title, but if you’d like for me to indulge you on some interesting inspiration for this story, stick right here, your choice :) As for inspiration for this piece, I am a former cross country runner. I ran for 7 years in middle and high school. I can already hear you say “what does this have to do with omo?! Shut up and make this fictional girl piss herself already!” And while it’s fair to question its importance, it’s simple why it actually is important: because I know what it’s like. Cross country runners are warriors, running 10-12 miles without having any real control over what happens with your body over that hour, hour and a half period. When I tell you that girls really have no control over when they get to pee during a long run, I mean it. (You probably don’t wanna know this lol) Us guys were always able to find spots to pee because we never had to crouch down and pop a squat. In fact, the guys usually had a spot somewhere in a field or behind some trees that was always convenient. Girls really had nowhere to hide, so I’m sure there were either plans around that for them during team practice or maybe on some occasions there might have been some accidents during a run, who knows? As for this story, it’s based not on what happens at practice, but what happens to our friend Kaylee at a cross country meet. As a runner who went to these in several different venues across my state, I can say that around 95% of the time, there are no real bathrooms open, since the meets are all outdoors. Thus, everyone has to use port-a-potties, which absolutely sucks. Even as a guy, I still absolutely hate the idea that you’re right above everyone else’s waste, making me try to avoid the port-a-potties when I can. The thing is, I’m not even close to as bad as other people are. Hell, there are some that straight up refuse to use these (hint hint), and honestly, I don’t even blame them. They may be a great invention for outdoor events, but my god they suck. Last thing, let me tell you what it’s like to run while desperate. I really never have this happen to me, but when it does, it’s almost impossible to hold yourself back when you’re running on a full bladder. It also makes it basically impossible to run at the speed you want without losing control. Overall, not a fun experience whatsoever. Ok, let’s see what happens to Kaylee here, enjoy! Running Into Trouble: Kaylee looked outside the foggy windows of the bus, the haze hadn’t really faded much. It was what you could come to expect from a chilly October morning in the Midwest. The sights along the two hour trip were underwhelming: corn fields and haze. Although Kaylee wasn’t here to sightsee, she knew she was here to win. The pieces were set for her to place high today: their top runner on their team was out, it was a perfect course, and it was perfect running weather outside. Nothing would be more of a dream then being called up as the first place runner: all her friends and family seeing her, the first place trophy, it was all for the taking. Kaylee’s thought process was interrupted by a twinge down below in her crotch area. She had to pee. Not really surprising, it was a two hour bus ride. She’d just have to use the bathroom when she got there. … ”Alright ladies, race is in an hour. Make sure to do your stretches and warmup and be at the starting line at 9:25.” Kaylee surveyed her surroundings: there were no buildings, which was strange. ”Hey Kay, whatcha lookin’ for?” A girl with puffy black hair made her way over towards her. ”Oh, nothing, Hannah, I’m just looking for a bathroom.” Hannah’s expression changed to one of confusion, “don’t you see the port-a-potties over there?” She pointed over towards a growing line by a set of green port-a-potties. Kaylee’s stomach dropped, “what about the bathrooms?” Hannah now looked even more confused, “those are bathrooms, silly! Come on, let’s both go before warmups.” Kaylee stomach dropped even more, “I-I can’t go in those! People have already… y’know!” Hannah smiled, “yeah, and I’d rather not know honestly. Now come on, we should get in line before it grows any longer!” Kaylee shook her head violently, “No! I can’t do that! I-I-I’m just going to hold it instead!” Hannah shook her head, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Kaylee. I’d definitely end up peeing myself if I did that. You should just get in line and get it over wi-“ ”No, I’ll be fine! I don’t want to get myself sick!” Kaylee responded quickly. Hannah shrugged her shoulders, “alright, but don’t cost yourself the race because you pee yourself, ok?” With that she walked off as Kaylee felt pressure again begin to build up in her bladder. She could do this, right? … Slow pain slowly progressed to constant torture as Kaylee progressed through warmups. Every movement made her bladder lash out in pain, and made her question her decision, but she couldn’t bear to even step foot in that port-a-potty. She’d have to find a way to hold it until the end of the race. ”Girls, to the starting line!” Kaylee took a deep breath, she could this. … ”Ladies welcome to the 63rd annual Leslie Ross Invitational. This is a 5k race. The race will begin on gunshot. At any time if-“ Kaylee felt so immersed in her bursting bladder that the words the guy with the flag was speaking really didn’t mean anything to her. She felt someone tag her on the shoulder and looked over to see Hannah smiling at her, “ready to go down, bitch?” Kaylee smiled back at her, “yeah, that’ll be the day. Try not to let those giant monsters slow you down,” motioning towards her breasts. Hannah wrapped her arms around her chest in defense, “well, try not to piss yourself halfway through the race, that ass will already look appealing enough to those boys without being wet.” Kaylee shook her head, “you’re the worst.” Hannah laughed, “I know.” … After the teams took their runout and got back to the starting line, Hannah felt like she was about to burst. Just focus, she told herself, it’ll all be over in a flash. The whistle to get up to the line was first. Once it was blown, the pain in Kaylee’s bladder vanished. It was game time. Silence, then the gun shot. The race was on. Kaylee shot off like a cannon, her adrenaline blasting her off through the opening straightaway with power, Hannah being the next closest to her but still distant. Her adrenaline carried her all the way through the first third of the race, which went like a breeze. However, after her adrenaline wore off, the bloated state of her bladder was then made present again. She was in trouble. Trying to focus on her breathing, Kaylee continued to stride on through the next mile, still barely losing a beat. Just a mile and change to go, she had this. And it certainly looked like this, she still had a decent lead through the third mile, however it started to shrink as her pace slowed and her bladder filled further. Every time Kaylee tried to start grabbing herself she lost balance and would just keep going. Entering the final straightaway, Kaylee was on her last leg. Completely ignoring everyone shouting her name and cheering her on, Kaylee couldn’t focus on anything but not exploding all over herself. Her pee felt pressed against her pee hole, begging for release, and her body wanted to oblige. All Kaylee wanted to do was stop running to ease a bit of the pain, but she had to finish. It seemed at least that she had locked up the race coasting down the straightaway, until she heard the shouting spectators scream a different name other than her own. She turned around to see Hannah quickly gaining on her until she was basically next to her. Kaylee had to sprint. Striding her legs to match Hannah’s pace, she felt spurts start to escape and dampen her panties and then trickle down her legs, but she just didn’t care. Putting everything into it, Kaylee found a different gear, outstriding her best friend and crossing the finish line first, but before she could celebrate, it all came pouring out. With adrenaline no longer keeping Kaylee’s bladder under control, there was no stopping it. A stream of pee started to soak into her underwear and shorts and then flow down her legs. Noticing this, Kaylee just bent down and let her pee flow freely out of her and onto the grass below. Her breaths were heavy and quick, but she couldn’t help but moan in pleasure. ”Told you you’d wet yourself.” The voice behind her was struggling. Kaylee looked back momentarily to see Hannah trying, and failing, to not laugh at her friend while also trying to gain back her normal breathing pattern. Once her flow came to a stop, Kaylee turned back towards her friend, who hugged her, “I don’t know how you did it, you’re going to have to tell me your secret Kay,” she was choking back giggles which caused Kaylee to start laughing hysterically as well. ”I guess you might just want to start holding your pee before a race too, eh?” Hannah smirked at her, “fuck no.” The two shared one more laugh before walking back to the tent. Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this story, I hope to find time to continue my stories soon!
I wrote this ages ago for a friend on discord. Super quick backstory is that Horst and Fritz were soldiers in world war 2 who are also lovers and in their eyes at least even if not legally are married. I write Fritz and she writes Horst and generally it's set in the 1950s so all is nice and happy. 😁 Fritz has a pee kink that his husband indulges him in. She requested I write her a 5 times Fritz was desperate story that included peeing behind a tree. I did then realised that I hadn't squeezed in any trees so you get a bonus scenario. Also I had to let him pee after all that so you also get a bonus, bonus scenario. I hope you enjoy it. 1. On Exercise. Fritz lay in the damp grass, squirming and desperately trying to ignore the ache in his bladder as he watched the comings and goings at the enemy HQ. He’d been laying here for over an hour, watching as the guards patrolled the road leading to the small wooden building, trying to memorise their movements so he could lead his men inside and take out the enemy commander, hopefully ending the whole war in one move. The red team of the army always seemed to win these things but Groß, their company commander, had promised them all a weeks leave if the blue team of the air force won it this year. The man was a giant… bigger even than Fritz himself and as much as Fritz wanted that leave he wanted whatever punishment Groß might come up with if they lost even less. Luckily the army didn’t know that Fritz and his fellow air force officer trainees had a tactical genius on their side, a skinny fellow by the name of Mohn. Recruit Mohn might talk funny but he had a sound grasp of tactics and stunning good looks despite being way to thin. Fritz found him intriguing… and very, very attractive. He’s unsure whether it’s fear of failing his commanding officer or fear of disappointing his new crush that keeps Fritz where he is, squirming on the cold ground and desperately hoping that the order is given to attack before he wets himself, but either way, he doesn’t dare move, just glances round before surreptitiously squeezing his cock, the need to pee steadily growing. Gunfire erupts to his right, half the platoon causing the distraction as planned so Fritz along with Mohn and the remaining two men can slip into the HQ building unnoticed. The plan works perfectly and Fritz is up and running, squeezing himself one last time to keep from leaking before he follows the others, storming the building and taking the cursing army guys completely by surprise. Groß must have been nearby because he turns up not five minutes later, congratulating the men, patting Mohn’s shoulder and praising him for coming up with such a bold plan. Standing in the shadows Fritz smiles at the man, pleased that he’s getting recognition. Groß leaves and the rest follow, Mohn the last to leave barring Fritz himself. He watches as the tall, skinny man, dark hair hidden under his steel helmet gives him a shy smile, thanking Fritz for his part in the success of the mission. Fritz smiles back at his new found friend, wanting to stay, to ask him if he had plans for his leave… or did he maybe want to spend the week with Fritz. Of course his bladder has to choose this time to make itself known, reminding him that he was still desperate for a piss, the need temporarily forgotten in the adrenaline of attack. He squirms uncomfortably, frowning when he sees Mohn frown, probably thinking that Fritz was squirming because of him. “Sorry, it’s not you,” he mutters tightly, having to cross his legs as his bladder threatens to give out. “Sorry,” Fritz apologises again, desperate to reassure the shy man that it wasn’t anything he’d said or done. “Just desperate to pee,” Fritz says, cheeks flushing. “Maybe we can talk properly later… even spend leave together if you like?” Fritz doesn’t wait to hear a reply, need overwhelming him and forcing him to run out the door, looking for a secluded spot to pee. He’ll never make the treeline in time, even if he runs, Fritz thinks desperately. The rest of the platoon seems to have made their way back to barracks, it’s just him out there and Mohn inside, what if he comes out and sees you Fritz’s brain reminds him. Too late, it’s either pee here or wet himself. Desperately, Fritz fumbles with his buttons, fumbling them open as quickly as he can, reaching in to yank his cock out, aiming it at the side of the building and sighing in relief as his stream starts almost immediately, the flow gushing out of him strong and fast as it floods out to stain the wooden wall before dripping down to form a puddle at his feet. Biting back a moan at how good it feels to go after holding it for so long, Fritz is just shaking himself off and tucking himself away when he’s aware of Mohn approaching. How long has he been there, wonders Fritz, he’d been concentrating so much on the relief of peeing that he’d never even noticed the man. “Horst Mohn,” he says, holding out a hand to shake as Fritz looks up at him, face glowing at having possibly been caught with his cock out and moaning as he pissed. “If we’re going to be spending a whole weeks leave together you should probably know my first name,” the dark haired recruit continues with a shy smile. At least Fritz thinks that’s what he says, the strong Black Forest accent making Mohn… Horst, difficult to understand. “Fritz von Arnsfeld,” Fritz replies, “as you probably already know,” he murmurs, Fritz’s attraction for the man making him nervous. “You… you probably don’t want to shake my hand to be honest, not after…” he gestures to the damp wall and Horst blushes dropping his hand. “No, I suppose not,” he says quietly and Fritz hopes he hasn’t just ruined the start of what he hopes will be a firm friendship if nothing else. “Come on,” Horst continues, “let’s get back to base before Groß wonders what we’re up to.” Fritz finds himself flushing, knowing that Horst likely didn’t mean it the way his mind wished an encounter in the woods, just the two of them, could go. “Come on my new found friend… let’s go,” Fritz agrees, as they slowly make their way back to barracks for the debriefing. 2. Guard Duty. The hot Crete sun beats down on him as Fritz takes another sip from his canteen, the water not helping much to cool him down as he stands guard outside their small compound with Horst. He glances at his boyfriend, taking the chance to grab himself while Horst is looking the other way as the water adds to an already full and bulging bladder. Horst had snuck off for a pee break twenty minutes ago, Fritz promising to cover for him and Fritz is beginning to think that turning down his boyfriend’s offer of the same had been a bad idea. At the time he was confident that he could hold on but now, with all the water he’d been drinking, Fritz isn’t so sure. Horst turns back just as Fritz lets go of his cock. He might have missed that but he can’t miss the way Fritz is squirming as he paces back and forth, leg jiggling in an effort to distract Fritz from the pleasant ache in his bladder. Horst looks around, checking they are truly alone before he murmurs quietly, “why don’t you just go baby, you look like you’re bursting. I promise I’ll cover for you like you did for me, no one need know baby.” Fritz shakes his head stubbornly, determined to hold on. “It’s not worth it now,” he reasons, glancing at his watch. “Sergeant Beck will be here to relieve us in another ten minutes.” It’s a pretty thin excuse but Horst doesn’t say anything, merely gives him a long hard look. Fritz can hardly admit the real reason he hasn’t gone yet, that he enjoys this feeling of mounting desperation, confident that he can last another ten minutes, though probably not much longer. Twenty five minutes later and Fritz is a lot less confident, pacing non stop as he crosses his legs, bladder stretched to almost breaking point. “Shit,” he mutters to himself as he sneakily grabs his cock. “I’m going to have to go in a minute if he doesn’t turn up soon.” Five minutes later Klaus Beck finally puts in an appearance, rushing up to relieve them. Fritz doesn’t wait to hear the man’s explanation, rushing off instead to relieve himself and leaving Horst behind to give the sergeant a thorough bollocking. Fritz rushes into the nearby bushes, hurriedly whipping his cock out to let his stream flow swiftly as he waters the foliage in a downpour that lasts a good two minutes. The relief he feels as his bladder starts to empty is immense and Fritz has to bite his lip to keep from moaning in sheer delight. “Fuck that feels good,” he mutters to himself as the hot clear stream shows no signs of stopping after a minute. Finally his bladder is empty and Fritz can shake his cock free from the last few drops of piss that linger before tucking himself neatly back in his boxers. Horst is waiting for him a little way off and Fritz smiles shyly, hoping his boyfriend hadn’t heard his words of relief. “Feel better now?” Horst asks him playfully, smiling when Fritz casually drapes an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders. “Much,” Fritz replies. “We’re free until 18:00, whatever can we find to do,” he says with a matching smile as they walk back in the direction of their sleeping quarters. 3. Drunk. Fritz is so drunk, he thinks foggily as he weaves his way down the street, watching as Horst laughs at something Dieter says, the pair in front of him, almost as drunk as himself. He’s lost track of the number of pints he’s downed tonight but it’s plenty and they all seem to have hit his bladder at once as the ache that Fritz has felt all evening intensifies ten fold. They’ve just entered the darkened back streets of the sleepy town, still a fair way from getting home when Fritz stops dead, crossing his legs and grabbing for his cock as he feels his bladder complain again. The other two men are half way down the alley before they realise Fritz is no longer behind them. “Fritz, are you OK?” Horst calls out, hurrying back to him as he stands swaying, fumbling with the buttons of his fly, drink making him uncoordinated and unable to get them open quick enough. “Fuck I need to piss,” he slurs, fumbling in a panic as he feels his control starting to slip. “Can’t get my sodding trousers open, please Horst… I’m going to piss myself…” he looks up at his boyfriend, begging desperately for help as he struggles with the buttons. “I mean it,” Fritz whines desperately as Dieter snorts his amusement. “Gonna piss myself in a minute.” “Go help your drunken boyfriend,” Dieter says with a smothered laugh. “I’ll keep a look out.” Horst is already moving, batting Fritz’s fumbling fingers out of the way and smoothly undoing his trousers, pushing the fly open and pulling Fritz out of his pants, holding him when Fritz makes no move to grab himself just lets go, sighing in relief as he pees, golden stream strong and hissing out into the warm night, splashing against the cobbles. Fritz moans softly, too drunk to even think about holding in his feelings. “Feels good baby,” he slurs, turning towards Horst to thank him, Horst cursing as he has to try to steer Fritz back as his stream sprays wildly and Dieter falls about laughing. 4. Truck Journey. Fritz is regretting chugging down that last coffee at the base before they’d set off on the journey towards their new barracks. Like the rest of the company Fritz had no idea where they were going or how long it would be. Horst’s choice to sit as far back from the tailgate and the biting wind seemed good at the start of the journey but not so much now that Fritz was squirming and desperate for a pee. At least it was dark here and if he was careful Fritz could clutch his cock whenever the truck would hit a particularly vicious pothole causing the contents of Fritz’s bladder to slosh around painfully. “It’s no good,” Fritz whispers to Horst, who is sitting next to him. “I’m going to have to go out the back.” “You can’t baby,” Horst whispers back. Can’t you see the snow blowing in through the back, if you pee out there it will just blow back over you.” Fritz moans softly. “I’m bursting baby. That coffee has gone straight through me.” He jiggles his leg impatiently, bladder feeling hard and bloated. “Not sure I can hold on much longer,” Fritz confesses, cheeks red in the dim interior of the bouncing truck. The need hits Fritz again and he bites his lip and squirms in his seat, feeling Horst’s hand in his, squeezing softly. “Hold on baby… I’m sure it won’t be much longer.” Fritz doesn’t know how much longer it is before the truck arrives at their destination, just knows that he doesn’t care anymore who knows he needs to pee as he feels everyone must, his leg having been jumping constantly for the last twenty minutes. He’d even debated pissing in his steel helmet, so desperate was he to go before the pitch of the engine had changed and the truck had slowed and stopped. The second the tailgate is dropped Fritz is up, legs crossed as he waits to get off, receiving a mixture of sympathetic looks and low chuckles from his comrades around him. Fritz jumps down from the truck, groaning at the jolt to his bladder causes his cock to spurt, thankfully nothing showing under the thick winter greatcoat. He looks around desperately, searching for somewhere to pee but seeing nothing but white snow, instead of the base he was expecting. “Five minute stop for a rest break,” Groß calls out gruffly, Fritz hearing the giant man before he sees him. “Piss while you can lads, otherwise you’ll end up like poor von Arnsfeld here,” he laughs, clapping a squirming Fritz on the shoulder causing the contents of his bladder to slosh and a desperate wave of need to hit him. “Fuck, gotta go,” Fritz curses, racing for the relative privacy of the truck as he struggles to pull himself out through all the layers. As soon as the cold air hits his cock Fritz is pissing, turning the snow yellow as he soaks the truck’s tyre, too desperate to even try to write his name in the snow. “Fuck that feels better,” he sighs as his bladder drains and the rest of the company follow his lead, Horst moving to stand next to him out of the way, cock in hand as he waits for his bladder to release while the usual suspects stand out in the open, unashamed and laughing as they compete to see who can pee the furthest, the evidence of the winner clear in the virginal white snow. “That’s the closest I’ve come to pissing myself,” he whispers to Horst as his stream ends and his husband’s starts. Fritz tucks himself away slowly, taking his time and trying to watch his husband pee without making it too obvious what he’s doing. 5. Morning Briefing. Fritz shifts in his seat as his bladder complains loudly. He crosses his legs as casually as he can, watching as Horst squirms beside him, both of them feeling the urge to pee after waking up late and rushing to get ready, arriving at the morning briefing with the Kommandant with moments to spare. Unfortunately for both that means they had to rush straight there, no time to even pay a quick visit to the bathroom. Fritz watches as Horst bites his lip, pressing his legs together carefully. If his husband was feeling the pressure things were much worse for Fritz, always desperate to go first thing after he woke up. He squeezes his legs together unable to concentrate on anything but the feeling of desperation that makes Fritz squirm again and he risks jiggling his leg under the table. Hopefully Horst would be paying attention and could catch him up on anything he misses. The Kommandant drones on for what feels like forever to Fritz as he bites his lip and moans softly, jumping when the Kommandant clears his throat, enquiring if he’s alright. “Sorry sir, just a slight headache sir,” Fritz lies, squirming again, feeling a damp spot forming on the front of his boxers from the spurt he couldn’t contain when he’d jumped in surprise. “I think we can wrap things up there gentlemen,” the Kommandant tells them softly. “Make sure not to overdo things Major von Arnsfeld,” Karl tells him quietly and Fritz nods distractedly as he tries to compose himself enough to stand up without losing control when he untwists his legs. Horst stands, holding the door for him and Fritz practically runs out the door, heading for the washroom just down the corridor. Horst follows him, his own bladder no doubt feeling the strain but Fritz can’t stop to wait for him, rushing to the urinal and pulling his cock out as his control finally snaps, piss flowing like a fountain to hiss against the stained porcelain. “God that was close,” he moans, the relief feeling amazing as he pisses like a racehorse. 6. Against a tree bonus. Fritz squirms in his seat, every minute seeming to last an hour as he tries to concentrate on his work. It was all his husband’s fault that Fritz is feeling this exquisite torture, his bladder aching and full. Horst had called him at lunch time, for no other reason than to hear Fritz’s voice, his last words deceptively casual as he suggests that Fritz try not to visit the toilet between now and home time. Finally 17:30 arrives and Fritz can stand carefully, having to pause a moment and breathe through the need that hits him. He makes his way out, waiting in the car park for Kurt who had promised him a lift home. Ten minutes of desperate squirming later and a red faced Kurt rushes out, apologising to Fritz that something has come up and he needs to stay late and won’t be able to give Fritz that lift after all. “No problem Kurt, I can walk” Fritz calls out, crossing his legs as soon as his boss has gone back inside. Fritz is almost home, just reaching the edge of the forest and their cosy cottage nearly in sight when he realises that he’s not going to make it home before he wets himself. He looks around desperately for somewhere to go, deciding that he really has no option than to duck into the forest and go behind a tree, wishing that Horst was there to keep a look out but knowing getting caught peeing in the forest is far better than the alternative. Fritz unbuttons his trousers as swiftly as he can, pulling his cock out and sighing softly at the anticipation of the relief that’s to follow then swearing when his bladder refuses to empty despite the desperate need. “Oh, come on,” he curses, nervously looking around to see if anyone is around to see him like this. “I need to pee so bad,” he mutters. “Why won’t you just go.” Just as Fritz decides to give up and tuck himself away his brain decides to stop playing games and pee and he has to hurry to pull himself out again, pointing his cock at the tree as his stream finally starts. The relief is instant and almost orgasmic after holding it for so long, Fritz biting his lip and smiling to himself as he watches the tree bark darken where his pee soaks it, pouring out to leave a foaming puddle and a very large and very visible mark on the tree, obvious to anyone that passes by just what’s occurred. Feeling much better Fritz finishes off, shaking his cock well before he puts himself away, straightening his tie as he heads out of the forest to continue his journey home and share his experience with Horst. He’s looking forward to his husband’s reaction, wondering if Horst will even wait until tea is finished to drag him upstairs. +1 Fun in the sun. “Please baby, I need to go so bad,” Fritz begs as they walk arm in arm through the forest towards their glade. “Nearly there, hold it in just a little longer,” Horst orders, command voice giving Fritz no doubt that his husband expected to be obeyed. “Not sure I can baby, I’m really desperate… shouldn’t have had that second cup of coffee,” he groans. Fritz is dancing on the spot, panting in desperation as a wave of need hits him, his overfull bladder solid and bulging under his thin cotton shirt aches from the sheer volume of liquid Fritz is asking it to hold. He clutches his cock, moaning in desperation as he tries to walk the last few metres to the privacy of the glade, unwilling to let go here where there’s a slim chance someone might walk by but really not sure he can hold out, his control right on the edge. “Concentrate sweetheart, breathe through it and hold on just a few more minutes,” Horst says softly, hand soothing against Fritz’s back as he jams both hands between his legs to keep from leaking and shuffles the short distance into the glade, every step making him feel like he’s going to leak and lose it at any moment. “Good job baby, you made it.” Fritz sighs in relief, the trees seeming to form a protective circle round the pair of them that hide them from prying eyes and the outside world. “Can I go now baby… please. I’ve been ever so good and not leaked at all but I can’t hold on much longer.” The feeling of safety, the relief that he’s made it has made the need spike and Fritz whimpers, feeling the pee trying to force itself out of his cock despite his best efforts. “It’s coming baby… I can’t stop it, it’s coming.” “It’s OK sweetheart, you have permission to go. Let’s just let’s get these clothes off and you can…” Horst voice trails off, as he watches the wet spot that appears on the front of Fritz’s trousers grow in size, Fritz sighing in relief and letting go as soon as he hears Horst give permission, his aching bladder seconds from giving out. “Ahhhh, that feels so good baby,” Fritz moans as the warm wetness floods his boxers, soaking his trousers and running down his legs. “Fuck that feels nice, so warm and good.” The front of Fritz’s trousers are absolutely soaked, the back pretty wet too where his pee has soaked through as Fritz just relaxes completely, moaning in relief and pleasure. “Thanks baby,” Fritz murmurs, happy smile covering his face and wet trousers tenting obscenely showing just how much Fritz had enjoyed his accident. “Thanks for pushing me… for letting me test my limits. Just let me get out of these wet things and I’ll show you just how much I appreciate you.” Author’s Note: I imagine Fritz asking Horst one day if he can be denied the use of the toilet one morning and forced to drink as much as he can then slowly walk to their glade. He can do anything he likes to hold it back, like grab his cock and cross his legs but he’s not allowed to leak. Horst was planning to undress his husband before letting Fritz pee but could see how close to losing it Fritz was so gave him permission, still thinking he could at least get his trousers off before Fritz lets go. As soon as Fritz hears he has permission his control breaks and he loses it then and there so it’s almost an honest accident but obviously it’s a planned one. There was no way he was holding it back at that point then in my mind.
Rebecca stared wistfully at the ad playing on the elevator screen: “No more paying for public toilets! Do your body a favor, let our nanobots do the hard work!” – said the doctor showing unique state-of-the-art nanobots that were meant to reinforce a squishy human bladder. Becca slapped the doctor’s face, and the animation showing a huge distended bladder disappeared. Biting her lip, the young woman looked in the black mirror and adjusted her shoulder-length red hair. Suddenly she winced, and her face became a grimace of anguish for a few seconds before the spasm subsided and let her breathe. She gasped for air, but there was little of it in the heated tin can. Her hand was clutching her crotch fiercely, as she stared at the screen again which now was showing a blinking emergency sign. “Yes, I know”, she thought to herself. Even muted the ad-screen was getting on her nerves. She looked up into the mocking eyes of a tall silver-haired girl. She exhaled a long puff of smoke from her e-cig into the vent and smiled. - You should’ve watched till the end… They hired a model to do a pee-pee dance right before the end, could've hired you actually. Besides, the bots would come in handy right now… - No, thanks. I don’t like unnatural things, don't want them in my body, - answered Becca, shivering, grimacing again. - Really? Man, you’re such a technophobe for a gamer… Wait… People don’t watch your stuff for your mad tech skills, do they? – she chortled and put her cig back into her leather jacket. - Oh yeah? At least I’m not running around the city like I’m some kind of gangster or something… “Oh, look at me, I’m Stacey, I, like, say edgy things and dress like a boy…” Who are you today? A nomad girl? A rocker girl? Or just a random of techno-freak?.. You can say whatever you like, but at least I have a stable job and people watch my videos! You’re just jealous… - Sure, I’m jealous of your army of perverts. Normal people wouldn’t watch your stuff. - Jason watches my stuff!! Suddenly it was so quiet in the elevator that you could hear blood boiling in Stacey’s veins. The red-head shuddered and almost pissed herself right there and then, as the rocker girl’s eyes pierced through Becca with all the hatred in the world. The nomad girl clenched her metal fist. - You’re such a bitch. First you steal my boyfriend and now, when we see each other for the first time in a year, instead of saying sorry, you have the nerve to mock me?! You were always like that, but this is some new level shit. Can’t wait for this coffin to start moving, I'm so tired of your bullshit... – she smashed the ad screen with her metal fist when another doctor started offering family therapy. - Stacey, I… I’m sorry, I can explain… - Oh, now you want to explain! You're so full of crap! “I don’t like unnatural things”… You’re not even close to natural… You’re a fake. You’re 28 and you pretend you’re a schoolgirl for these pervs who are watching you… Shut up, I don’t wanna talk to you… Jesus, how fucking stuffy can an elevator get, fucking hell. She pushed the emergency button three times, almost breaking it, too. Rebecca looked down in shame, but the real shame would come if she peed herself in front of Stacey, she knew that. She would mock her till the end of her days, no doubt. Rebecca felt scared. For the first time in her adult life she understood that she was about to have a toilet accident. She was still holding on, but her muscles were growing weak from fighting off wave after wave of pressure from her boiling bladder. The poor young woman wanted to pee so badly, her legs started to shake. After half an hour or maybe slightly more – every minute felt like eternity for Becca – she pressed her butt against the wall and shuddered from an aggressive spasm attacking her sphincter. Sweat was dripping on her breasts and white T-shirt, Becca wanted to use the toilet so much that holding it was close to pure agony. - S-Stace… I’m sorry… I hope you can forgive me for everything… Stacey stood silent in front of the door for a minute, then came up to emergency comm at the door and pressed the button. - Um, hello… We are trapped in the elevator here, my adult sister’s about to wet herself, can you make the elevator work again? Oh, wait… I forgot, "out of order". - Stacey, I’m sorry… I don’t know what to say… I get it, you’re mad with me, but… Please, help me. Please… Could you try to open the door… I’m begging you… Becca’s whole body was shivering, and her hands were holding her crotch so tightly her fingers went white. - So now you are sorry… So I’m a techno-freak But now I’m a useful techno-freak, I’m supposed to open the door so you can pee into the shaft… Right? A jolt of pain made Becca groan loudly, as she bent over again tapping her feet. Her bladder was not simply full, it was about to pop. Becca felt tears running down her cheek. She understood that she would piss herself, if Stacey doesn’t help. Even if the elevator starts moving again, she would still need to find a bathroom, she couldn’t just squat in the garage – a popular streamer like her couldn’t just pee in front of the cameras out there… But it was either that or soaking her jeans. The thought made Becca panic and the poor young woman began to shake… - Yes, please open the door! I’m not kidding, I’ll pee my pants! - You’re a big girl, sis, don’t be such a drama queen. - S-Stace… I don’t wanna piss myself… Please, help… Stacey looked at Becca and for the first time in years felt worried for her little sister. Her scanner said that the red-headed young woman was under “abnormal emotional distress” and "severe physical discomfort". Her pulse was high, too. Stacey would've never believed bladder could cause it, but Becca’s body clearly was not okay, and considering how fast the mega-building administration normally was at fixing elevators and stuff, Rebecca would definitely have an accident in the nearest future. She couldn't allow her sister to humiliate herself. - God, you’re such a child. Okay, I'll help. Don’t even think about peeing here, - Stacey replied and shoved her metal hand between the two wings of the door. Becca smiled for the first time that day. Her bladder was convulsing and she couldn’t really feel the muscles between her legs any more, but she was happy she managed to convince Stacey to help out. Suddenly, Becca moaned loudly again and froze in fear, as her pee-hole became unable to bear the searing pain from her bladder and let out a sharp stream into her panties. Her heart was jumping out of her chest, her bladder throbbed. She was on the verge of complete panic, but by some miracle she stopped urinating. Stacey was wrestling with the door, swearing like a sailor. - Don’t worry… Just a moment, Becks… Fuck me, these doors are sturdy… Rebecca was so stressed she was about to have an out-of-body experience. The horror of flooding her jeans and walking around like that, all her fans learning about her accident – all that hinged upon her barely functional sphincter that was about to unclench again. Becca burst into tears feeling warm urine flood her crotch, a long steady stream soaked her panties again. Couple of seconds passed, and she peed again, and this time stained her right thigh. Becca was sobbing, still holding her wet hand in her crotch, almost ready to give up. Strength was leaving her fast; she could barely control her body… No! She couldn’t allow herself to have a complete accident. She didn’t want to do it like that, but minor embarrassment in front of her sister was so much better than public humiliation! Becca’s trembling fingers unzipped her jeans and started pulling them down. Burning from embarrassment, the young woman put her head down and started to squat indecisively. - Becks, come on, I opened it! Becks! Oh, Jesus, what are you doing, come here! Becca dashed to the door so fast she almost pushed Stacey out in the shaft. Stacey’s jaw was on the floor: her sister ran to the door pulling down her wet jeans and soaked beige panties on the go, leaving a yellow trail on the floor. Becca squatted at the door and sighed with relief. She could feel her urethra filling up with liquid, but none of it was escaping her body, only a few drops from her wet underwear hit the floor. Becca was almost hysterical. She was squatting at the door, trying to make her pee-hole open but couldn’t. She grabbed her bloated bladder with both hands and started sobbing. - Fuck...Wh-What’s happening to me?? - Come on, Becks, do it already, I’m not looking, what else do you want? - Stacey, I can’t, I can’t, I’m trying… I don’t know what’s wrong I… - Becca wailed unable to relieve herself after all the torture she'd endured. - Sorry! Damn, I’m sorry… Forgot to switch it off… - Switch what off?! Stacey, I swear to God, if this is one of your stupid jokes, I’ll… - Quit crying, sis, it's gonna be okay... Just wait a sec… Remember those nano-bots? Long story short, I’m using them, don’t ask why. They latch onto my DNA, I had no idea they could jump over to you, must be some side-effect... You should be thanking them, you know, you would’ve wet yourself. Completely, I mean… - Not funny Stace, I've been holding it for ages! Hurry, please! - Done. A yellow fountain jetted out of Becca, as her body went limp. The stream was so powerful it almost hit the concrete wall in a meter and a half. Becca was hosing the abyss for half a minute and then her stream subsided and hit the floor, spraying pee at the metal wall. Stacey jumped away from the door, almost catching spatter from Becca’s stream with her pants. Rebecca was crying tears of joy and breathing loudly. She finally made it. After emptying her agonized bladder, she stood up groggily and slowly pulled her pants up. - Jeez, your bladder deserves a medal. You didn’t even need me. You could’ve cut through the door with that stream… - Thanks, oh god, thanks! I mean it. If not for you, I would... What are you doing? - Hacking into the surveillance network of the building, disabling the cameras. I don’t want my sister’s naked butt on the net tomorrow. Besides, the garage also has cameras and look at your jeans... - she replied jacking into the panel at the door with a chord from her wrist. Rebecca stood in shock for a minute or two trying to wrap her head around what could've happened. That would be the end of her, and she was so close to an absolute disaster. - Hey, don't worry, it's all fine now... - replied Stacey and awkwardly embraced her sister. - Thank you, - she hugged back tightly, crying from happiness. - Erm… Yeah... You can allow me to breathe now. - God, what a nightmare… Where can I buy these "bots"?
Here are some short "stories" in the form of the kind of moral choices you might see in a cRPG. These aren't really part of a bigger project, just for fun. Maybe I'll make more at some point, maybe I won't. Which choice would you make, if you were playing this inexplicable pee-desperation fantasy cRPG? _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ "Commander, I-I know I said I could handle the proposed bathroom schedule while traversing the Molten Spires. It shames me to admit this, but I have nearly reached my limit. P-please, I don't want to risk the safety of the party by w-wetting myself..." The paladin is looking at you like a pet who has done something wrong. Her face is flush, and despite her heavy armor you can tell she can barely stand straight. The proud and strong woman has been reduced to the desperate little girl in front of you. 1. (Neutral Good): You are quick to carry the heaviest burden, Paladin. Because of your endurance, other members of the party were able to relieve themselves in these dangerous lands. I will arrange for a break immediately. 2. (Lawful Neutral): Very well. I will arrange a break for you as soon as I can without causing a major disruption. I hope this experience has taught you where your own limits lie. Do not repeat this lapse in judgement. 3. (Chaotic Neutral): I'll distract everyone, and you can go pee behind a bush. That way, nobody else will know of your mistake! 4. (Lawful Evil): I will pretend I didn't hear that, and you will control yourself until the time for your break comes. The consequences of your failure will be far more painful than whatever discomfort you feel right now. Is that clear, Paladin? _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ You enter the queen's tent. It's the largest and most lavish in the war camp, though the interior is clearly decorated for war rather than grandeur. The queen bites her lip as you enter, worried. She usually wears armor and clothing similar to the paladins, but her breastplate is currently mounted on an armor stand. You can tell she is very tense. "A-ah...! Commander. I have a very delicate mission for you. Y-you mustn't tell anyone about this." The queen squirms, and swallows. "I use a blessed chamber pot to relieve myself while avoiding the curse of this corrpted land, but during the last attack its magic was disrupted. Please, commander, I can only trust you with this. You must restore the chamber pot without anyone learning of it, and quickly! I am at my wit's end! 1. (Lawful Neutral) Very well. It would not do for the common soldiers to learn of this. I will restore the chamber pot with haste, but in return you must hold on until I return. 2. (Lawful Good) I will help you, but I cannot make this mission my highest concern. We are at war, your majesty. I will help you relieve yourself somewhere privately, then I will find a way to repair your pot. 3. (Neutral Good) I can't believe you would use an artifact like this to relieve yourself while the common soldier is forced to desperately endure! I will help you, but I won't prioritize this over the needs of the army. I will find some other way to let you relieve yourself until we can fix your chamber pot. 4. (Neutral Evil) Of course, your majesty. But only on one condition; after the pot is fixed, I will be the one to determine when you are allowed to use the pot. It wouldn't do to have a queen who can't control herself, after all. 5. (Chaotic Neutral) I will help you, on one condition. You must relieve yourself into the soldier's latrine first. It would do the soldiers some good to finally see their queen is human like the rest of us - this charade has gone on far too long. _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ “C-Curse you crusader! Your allies are doomed! Those among you who haven’t already been corrupted will bleed out into the dirt within a month!“ The demoness is locked up inside her cell. She strains fiercely against her cold iron restraints. One of the clerics has placed a sealing spell on her, preventing her from releasing her cursed urine. Her bladder has become swollen and taut during her captivity, and despite the tough front she is putting up, you can see she is in agony. 1. (Lawful Evil) Perhaps I’ll play with you, like you played with so many of our soldiers? If you’re good, maybe I can even find a way to help you relieve that aching bladder of yours? 2. (Lawful Neutral) You’ve made your bed, and now you must lie in it, demon. I doubt I can appeal to any goodness or righteousness within you, but perhaps you will eventually be motivated to tell the crusade what you know to be relieved of your cursed bladder. It would take an effort on our part to make that possible, safely, so make it worth it by providing us with the information we need. 3. (Chaotic Good) Even wicked creatures deserve mercy. I will try to find a way to allow you to relieve yourself without endangering our camp. You must be hurting, having such a full bladder and being unable to pee. 4. (Chaotic Evil) Relieve yourself in front of the demoness. Edited January 25 by DerivativeWings (see edit history)
A young man stopped at a parking lot on the motorway. The man did take a much needed piss after a long drive . He had to do it behind the bushes because it was a little parking lot and there were no toilets. Just as he went back to his car, came a bus with a smoking engine, very slowly to the parking lot. It was a bus from an east European town hundreds kilometers (miles) away. The man was curious what was happen and waited for a while. A lot of people were coming out from the bus, most of them were young. Some of them looked around in a way like they would search for something and some boys disappeared behind the bushes. It was clearly now after what they were searching. It was visible that some of the girls were needing to wee as well, but not any went behind the bushes. There were two girls, between 18 and 19, pretty, slim and very sexy with super short skirts. The man observed them and noticed that they walked in direction bushes. It was clear what they wanted, or better what they needed to do behind the bushes. The man did take the chance to stop them before they could disappear and started to talk with them. He asked what happened, he wanted to know what they are doing here and where they want to go. They told him that they are on the way to the capital city to spend one their holidays week there, but now the bus is broken and they had to wait for a spare bus and that could last some hours. The man offered to take them with his car, but sure no visit behind the bushes before they leave. The bladders from the girls had to stay full and had to get fuller!!! The girls were happy about that offer, did take their baggage from the bus and went straight to the car of the man. The guy did know very well that the girls had full bladders in their bellies and that they would need to wee. Many other guys would have mercy with the girls and would have stopped at the next parking lot with a toilet to let them wee, but not he, he did not even think about it! He was horny from the knowledge that the girls were needing to wee and he wanted to use the opportunity to make them hold as long as possible. It would have been extra arousing for him to know how long they did not wee, how long they are already holding it, but he did not want to ask so straight. Their trip to the city would last nearly 2 hours, time enough to talk and time enough to watch them hold. He asked a lot of things and that way he did find out that they started their journey yesterday 7 pm and that they had one stop before sleeping at about 10.30 pm. That means that they had no wee in the morning, that means that hold all the hot “girl wee “ from already 12 hours in their bladders. No wonder that they were needing to go and no wonder that they had their sexy naked thighs pressed tight together, but they did not beg for a stop and they did not talk about their need and about that they are full to burst. On and off they talked something in their own language, maybe they told each other how bad they would need to pee, or about what they should do, ask for a stop, or try to hold it. Their English was not really good and maybe they were to shy to ask for a stop. For some girls it is not easy to ask a strange man for permission to pee. They did not ask for a stop, but they asked the guy if he would know a cheap hotel in the city or near the city with underground station. The guy told them that he will think about it and that was it what he really did, he did think how he could use that situation. The girls did their best to hold it, but they could barely hide their strong urge. For someone who loves girls desperate to wee, who knows how girls act and what they are doing to keep their little panties dry, was it obvious that they were needing to go really bad. The girls counted the minutes until they would be finally able to let it out, but the guy wanted more, much more! It was already noon as he stopped at a kiosk. He told the girls that he would like to invite them for a welcome drink and drink for good holidays. He ordered 3 glasses of champagne. The girls were distraught about it but could not refuse, the guy was to nice to say no. The girls were standing with their sexy legs tight crossed, they could no other than to ask for a toilet. ”Can you bring us to a toilet please. We nearly do it in our panties. We need to pee so unbelievable urgently.” said one of the girls and to demonstrate how bad they were needing to go, they pressed their hands between their thighs and they crossed their legs over their hands. ”Please, bring us very, very fast to a loo, sorry that we act like little girls, but we did not wee for so long, we really can’t wait any longer, it is getting unbearable for both of us.” said the second girl. It was like an erotic film for the boy, nothing could have turned him on more than to hear that and to see those pretty girls fight with all their power against their urge and their need. ”Did you not have a chance to wee since yesterday at the rest stop?”asked the guy acting anxious. In reality he did love that so much. The bulge in his pants did show how much. ”We have not been at the toilet at that rest stop, we did not really need to go to that time and we thought that we would stop again, but we did not. We are holding it since we left our home yesterday 6 pm, but now we can’t bear up any longer.” answered the girl. ”Oh my god, your poor bladders must be full to burst, but i am sorry there is no public toilet and no coffee shop near, but you are big girls, i think you will be able to hold it for a while longer.” said the guy full of horniness. He offered them, for to safe money, the guest room in his flat for their holiday week. The girls did anyway have much money and was very happy about that offer. The guy lifted the glass a said “cheers, we drink for a nice week.” ”I piss myself if i drink that.” said one of the girls. “I also can’t drink that.” said the other girl. The guy wanted to torture the girls even more and told them that they should drink because they would be at the toilet long before the drink will be in their bladders. “How long does it take to your home?” asked one of the girls. ”About 15 minutes.” answered the man. ”Cheers!” she said, “ but please bring us to your bathroom so fast as any possible.” Half an hour later, walked the girls with rubbing knees from the parking lot to the guy’s house. As soon as they closed the door behind them, the girls pressed their hands against their crotch and squatted down. ”Oh my god, where is your loo?” “Quick, quick before it is too late!!” begged on of the girls and pressed her panties deep in her slit. ”Not yet! let us go to my living room before.” said the man. He made them again a offer, he told them that they could have a week for free, no money for the room, no money for food and if they would be willingly they would get a pocket money for the day. ”What do we have to do?” wanted the girls know. ”You should do nothing, not even wee!” answered the guy. ”You should not go to the toilet, you have to hold it for minimum 3 hours longer .” he said. ”Oh my god, we can’t do that, our bladders will explode if we don’t go for so long.” answered both girls. ”Would you show me your bellies, let me see how full your bladders really are!” said the man and told them that they have 5 minutes to think about his offer………
"Do you even know what you're doing?" Kaveh sneered, straining against the ropes holding him back. "Of course, my dear," Alhaitham assured him from between Kaveh’s legs, pulling the ropes just tight enough so that they pinched the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. He kicked his calves to shake off the pressure, grinning when he heard the sharp clack of Alhaitham's jaw being shut for once. Maybe if he kicked it with enough force it would stay that way. Alhatiham ignored his actions. "Your Forest Scout Club team leader would be ashamed. Don't you take pride in your rope tying badge?" Kaveh badgered him. "I wasn't a Forest Scout when I was a kid." "Alhathaim the overachiever would have gone wild as a kid to collect all four hundred and seventy-three Forest Scout Club badges. I bet there were even planners and schedules on how to maximise your time per badge ratio." "Actually, they weren't really a thing in my day." "Oh, really?" The sharp tug of rope dug into his thigh as Alhathaim tightened it to make sure it was secure before knotting it and moving on. Kaveh squirmed, testing the limits of how much he could move but also to try and distract him from his desperation. While Alhathaim was fully clothed, Kaveh had nothing but a few ropes adorning him, leaving an undercurrent of excitement where they pressed into his skin. “I have work to do-” Alhathaim started. “You are not going to ditch me after you have spent the last hour attempting to tie me up with your grandma hands.” “That’s not even an insult. Most grandma’s have wonderfully agile hands that can knit out a full jersey in less than a week.” “Keep it in your pants big guy.” “Put some on yourself then.” Kaveh could only grin as he felt Alhathaims agitation grow behind him. “Anyways, as I was saying before you rudely interrupted me. I have work to do - and you are going to sit on my lap and we’ll see how long you can hold your piss for.” Kaveh fought the urge to cover his face with his hands. He could look straight into the eyes of the most powerful men in Sumeru and not even feel a thing but his roommate makes one mention about the ever present pressure he’s feeling and he feels like jelly. He gathered his bearings enough to speak from under his hair, “That is, if you can finish up here before I just give up an piss on you.” His face glowed. Kaveh couldn’t even hoist off the ropes as one of Alhathaim’s kinks since he’d been feeling a little too into it the whole time. “Well good news for you because I’ve just finished. Up, up. Unlike you, I don’t have time to be a layabout. And this time, if you decide that you’re feeling overstimulated and try to hit me, I will hit you back twice as hard as payment for earlier.” Kaveh simply looked Alhaitham in the eyes and grinned. They got off the bed. He wasn’t quite sure what Alhathaim had done with the ropes - the majority of them crisscrossed around his forearms, thick tendrils of red enveloping his wrists and holding them against his chest where he couldn’t move them slightly. He still had enough slack in the rope to walk though, he wasn’t going to question why Alhaitham had done something so unconventional. The man always schemed so it was sure to be useful later. If not even just for now when they were moving about. It was probably a good thing that, unlike Kaveh, Alhaitham’s study was next to his bedroom. He could barely walk, every step tiny and shuffling and testing his already stretched limits. “It would have been more practical if we had’ve just started things in your office.” “But then I wouldn’t be able to do this,” Alhaitham said, tugging Kaveh backwards using the lines of rope criss-crossing his back. His world narrowed in on his need to piss. Kaveh was full, half of his mind was on holding everything in at all times, and the other half was going to join soon. He fought against the urge to go right there. Kaveh was not going to falter and he was not going to give Alhaitham more ammunition to tease him with. He shifted his weight as best as he could, marvelling at how he could almost sense the way his bladder sloshed around, fighting against his movements and begging for release. It took a while for him to get his desperation under control and at the end of it he was panting, flushed and sending the most poisonous look to Alhaitham that he could. “You are an asshole.” Then it was Alhaitham’s turn to smirk at him. As if he’d gained the upper hand in this situation. Which was a complete joke. “Are you ready to get moving? Earlier you were complaining about how slow I was and now look at you… What shall we do?” And then he tugged again on the ropes. “Fuck you!” Panic washed over him. There was no stopping this time, the wave of desperation so soon after the first one made everything so much worse. Bending over slightly, Kaveh did what he could to press himself and stop the piss from leaking it out. He shuddered, he could already feel piss pressing at the tip of his cock. “I’ll take pity on you. But just this once. And only because I have plans that involve us getting further than the hallway.” Alhaitham grabbed Kaveh’s cock and it was delicious. He tempted fate, relaxing control a bit and his vision teared up but fuck did it feel good. Earlier that morning, at six o’clock when Kaveh had just rolled out of bed and Alhaitham had already been busy for at least an hour, Kaveh had hinted at doing something later that day. He had been the one to suggest using the weekend as an excuse to distract themselves from research for a while, his belly already bulging with his need to piss. Kaveh stood still, savouring the overwhelming sensations, gasping when Alhaitham began to stroke his cock, still keeping his iron grip on it. “Think of the credibility you’d lose,” Alhaitham began, their heads right next to each other. Kaveh chose silence to see if Alhaitham would continue. “Imagine what people would say if they saw me parading you around in public like this. You can barely even make it to the next room over, you're so desperate.” The hand on his cock moved faster. Despite most of his mental faculties being truly spent, he could still imagine the scenario Alhaitham described in flashes. Heat rose within, a mix of shame and arousal, and Kaveh didn’t trust himself to speak in fear of him sounding as debauched as he looked. And they hadn’t even done much yet. “Maybe I should take you into the Akademiya. Instead of you sitting on my lap in my home office, we could be in my office there. I could show everyone how good I am at taming you.” Alhaitham’s voice slowly got quieter. “I’m sure that you would enjoy that. You can pretend that we are in public and that anyone can just… forget to knock before they come into my office and see us.” “I’m going to your office.” Kaveh’s desperation was increasing and irritation was the perfect guise to push things along. The irritation wasn’t even faked. He hated the fact that they knew each other so well. Of course, Alhaitham would be able to tell all of his kinks and use that knowledge to fluster him. He shuffled to Alhaitham’s desk, unable to take full strides because of course Alhaitham strove to make everything he did as annoying as possible. Sitting down on the desk, he rested his feet on the armrests of the desk chair and strategically positioned his body to show as much skin as possible to Alhaitham when he walked through the door. Kaveh pouted. Clearly he would be taking his time. No problem. While good at ignoring his mounting desperation under usual circumstances, maybe it was because he knew what the end result would be, but he could not distract himself. Clenching his fists he started to squirm as well as he could without the use of his hands. Not that it helped much. But he would succeed. If Alhaitham walked in on Kaveh pissing himself, he would never hear the end of it. Every time he would deign to enter Alhaitham’s office, he’d get reminded of the time that he couldn’t even control himself and went and ruined the carpet like the uncouth piece of shit that Alhaitham seemed to be convinced that he was. But at least he wouldn’t need to piss so badly. Maybe he could let just a little bit off? No. A sharp shudder of need pulsed through him and he barely managed to stop it before he burst. Kaveh was not going to piss on the carpet. Frantically, he looked around the room. He wasn’t going to actually go through with anything, but it would be good to have a contingency plan in case Alhaitham decided that he really wanted to test Kaveh. There was a rather small – too small – potted plant. Its green leaves drooped in the midday sun. Maybe Alhaitham should water it instead of relying only on his vision to keep the thing clinging on to life. Though, Kaveh could help out in that regard. They both had a problem, and he’d only be able to let out a little bit but it’d be enough… There was also a window. A little bit high for him to feasibly aim through without his hands. But if he really lost it, that would be his solution. Another pulse of need to go and need to go now rammed through him. Doubling over, he moaned gently, just just barely holding on. He rubbed his thighs against each other, hating how every movement made his need exponentially worse. Bouncing his legs he felt like he was fighting against the inevitable and he was losing. “Are you going to get your arse over here, today?” Kaveh grit out. Taking in gasping breaths he tried to remove his mind from the situation. It wasn’t helping. Kaveh was just about to decide fuck it and piss out the window when Alhaitham strolled in, looking like he hadn’t been standing just outside the door and eavesdropping on every noise and shuffle Kaveh made. “You’re looking rather desperate,” Alhaitham commented. “Someone’s observation skills are top notch.” Kaveh hadn’t gotten off of the desk yet and he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to take his legs off the armrests of the chair - too much jostling. With much reluctance, he drew one of his legs to his chest and allowed Alhaitham to slide into the chair. “I think I rather like this. I’ve got such a wonderful view of you - and your desperation. Most people would have given in and gotten relief by now but not you… and I, just so happen to have an idea of what to do next.” “What are you planning?” Kaveh did not like that look on Alhaitham’s face and he was right. Without warning, Alhaitham began to mouth at his cock- It took every iota of strength he had to keep himself from pissing in Alhaitham’s mouth right then and there. Sure it would give him a kick, but he wanted something else. “Can I sit on your lap?” Kaveh asked after waiting as long as he could handle and hating how quietly his voice came out. Alhaitham continued to abuse his cock. Giving more attention to his head than absolutely necessary and it drove him mad. Mouthing at it, Kaveh can only just see the smallest peeks of Alhaitham’s tongue. But he can certainly feel it. It was a shame that he couldn’t use his hands to grab only Alhaitham and give him some sort of anchor in his torrent of feeling. Alhaitham took his mouth off Kaveh’s cock with a particularly lewd pop and looked him in the eyes. He barely looked debauched and Kaveh would give a lot to change that. “It’s… a lot,” Kaveh eventually settled on. “Not sure how much longer I’ll hold on for but it won’t be long until your paperwork gets ruined. Fuck, maybe I should just piss in your mouth if you’re going to go down on me with no warning like that.” “Not my problem. Just shut up and focus on not pissing yourself.” Whether it was from his desperation or from Alhaitham’s skill, Kaveh ended up so worked up with not enough outlets - he was so used to being in control - he didn’t know how to just focus on feeling. He needed to do something. Electricity danced under his skin and he dug his feet into the backrest of Alhaitham’s chair. Alhaitham’s fingers pressed into the dip of his back. “I think it’s time for me to work for a little bit,” he said with a vulgar grin that was all teeth, no lips and cocky. And he pulled Kaveh off the table and into his lap. Kaveh whimpered, legs clenched around Alhaitham. His head jammed between the other man’s junction between neck and shoulder. “Don’t do that! Alhaitham please-” Alhaitham didn’t reply for a few moments. “You can do whatever you want, but I need to get some work done.” There’s a brush of a hand against the small of his back, it was gently and barely noticeable over the sound of stationery being set up. Kaveh smirked and shifted his positioning. Below him, Alhaitham’s dick pressed into Kaveh’s own. Experimentally, he ground forward, pressing his dick between their stomachs. It was great, being able to take the edge off of his need. Continuing with much more vigour, he distracted himself with the pleasures of moving his body against Alhaitham’s. Something in him spasmed and Kaveh stopped, body dead still as another shiver wracked his body. Against his will, a small spurt leaked out of his cock. He put his toes on the ground. While moving positions, he managed to get a quick glance at the mora-sized wet patch he’d left on Alhaitham’s pants, the liquid already absorbed into a dark stain. Maybe if he can distract Alhaitham, Kaveh can get his full attention back. His position was better - he could press harder against his dick and add more bounce in his movement to distract both him and Alhaitham. His muscles burned from the knowledge that release was so close but so far away. Furthermore, he was antsy. There is no comfortable position with the amount of slack Alhaitham has left in the ropes linking his thighs. Either he has to rest his full weight on Alhaitham with his thighs pulled up - and squeezing his cock so deliciously, but also pressing too much on his bladder for him to handle - or stretch on his toes. He kept trying to lift himself up as much as he could before dropping himself back down. The jolting was too much - tears threatened his vision, clumping his eyelashes together. He must look terrible. And he didn’t care. Not when Alhaitham paused his work for a moment to look at him and there was nothing but lust in his sharp gaze. “If you can stop squirming until after I’ve finished the page, I’ll reward you with a bit of help,” Alhaithaim suggested. “Not sure if I can make it. I’m a bit desperate right now.” Kaveh punctuated that with a roll of his hips that barely did anything to curb his urge. “What sort of reward are we talking about?” Pausing in mock contemplation, Alhaitham stared at him again. “How about I give you a free pass to do anything that you want?” Alhaitham asked. “I want you to fuck me. Not later, not another day, but now, while I still need to piss myself.” Just thinking about Alhaitham’s dick digging into his aching bladder as he pounded into Kaveh had his own dick straining even more than it already was. There was not much that he could think of asking for - at least not right now - but that sounded hot and the moment he got more stimulation he would be shooting off like a firework. “Certainly. Just make sure that you don’t squirm too much then.” With that, Alhaitham shifted his focus back to his work while surreptitiously glancing at Kaveh and a hand would wander around at times, drifting over an ab or resting in the crook of his thigh. Taking in a deep breath, Kaveh released it slowly, ignoring how shaky it was. Alright, no squirming. Fighting against the instinct to continue grinding, he pressed himself flat against Alhaitham. It wasn’t much help, but it was certainly better than leaving his dick exposed and flushed with urgency. “How much longer?” Kaveh asked. He wanted to laugh at himself. No way had it been more than a minute or two since Alhaitham had made his declaration. “Just a few more minutes. I would offer to talk through what I’m doing but I doubt that you could comprehend the complexities of Cataclysm-era English.” “Please do not bore me with that drivel. I would rather live my life without seeing another book again than be forced to listen to you wax poetic about the similarities between ancient languages. Least of all while we’re in the middle of something.” “If only you could put half as much vitriol as that towards your research. You would actually get it finished.” Kaveh huffed. “At least I don’t run around writing everything down in a little notebook.” “And at least I remember my appointments, unlike you.” “Alhaitham, whether you remember your appointments or not, do you know how many times I have stumbled upon you cowering away from them.” “Because they’re all idiots.” “Hah, I can agree with you on that one.” “Alright, enough pestering me. I’m done.” Something about that phrase struck Kaveh to his core. It was against his will that the smallest dribble of piss escaped, dripping down his hard cock and onto Alhaitham’s pants, shining wonderfully in the afternoon sun before soaking in. Silence. Without warning, a full torrent of piss gushed out. He fought to get his control back, but could only succeed in stopping his flow for a few seconds before his mind would wander back to his current situation and his body would just… continue to piss again. Kaveh actively held back everything. His focus is so intense that he can barely even breathe, barely even move. He is at his limit. “Are you going to help me out?” Kaveh asked, words coming out as a whine instead of a snarky remark. Not that he cared at that moment. His mind went back to the window or even the potted plant and like Alhaitham could read his mind, he grabbed Kaveh’s hips, nail’s digging into the soft skin. The pain was great, it helped to pull his mind away and let him hold on for a little bit longer. Experimentally he pushed himself into the wet spot. It was still warm and wet and it felt so very good. When another leak rushed out of him, he didn’t even put up the slightest protest. Enjoying it as much as he could. It didn’t take long for his frantic urgency to subside, leaving behind a large wet spot - spanned from Alhaitham’s knees all the way up to his stomach, and he didn’t have to look to know that there were spatters of wetness decorating the floor. Kaveh groaned. “I still feel so full, Alhaitham. How about you fuck the rest of the piss out of me?” “What the fuck have you been drinking? There is no way that you still need to piss?” “Not all of us have to contend with running off to the bathroom every thirty minutes because we have a tiny bladder. Your offer is ticking away, do you want to take it? Or should I contend with having to help myself out without you?” “We’ll need to get you prepared then,” Alhaitham said, and his hand tentatively slipped lower down Kaveh’s arse. It was not often that Kaveh was actually in the mood to get fucked. He has always preferred to appear to have control in the situations he was in, but today was different. Today was very different, and his cock strained against his stomach at the thought of Alhaitham mercilessly tormenting his tired bladder during sex. “Are you going to take the spare lube out of your drawer now, or are you going to pretend that it isn’t there to increase the supposed tension of the situation? Because if you think you’re going to be able to draw things out, you’re sorely mistaken. I am moments away from pissing on you and you better make the best of this.” To emphasise his point, another spurt escaped before he could clamp down. “Alright, alright,” Alhaitham sighed, reaching over and grabbing the aforementioned lube. There was silence until fingers tentatively brushed against his arse and Kaveh bore down, both of them slipping in easily - he’d already prepared himself a bit earlier so now it was more just another form of torture more than anything. Those fingers gently massaged every centimetre inside him, groping for every single crevice that numbed his vision and raised his desperation. The assault was relentless and Kaveh wasn’t sure if he was just leaking that much precum or if he was just plain leaking. Probably leaking. Not that he cared as wave upon wave of pleasure caressed him. His muscles clenched at the thought of how much better Alhaitham’s cock would be than his fingers. The continued, slow and tortuous. Rolling his hips as best he could in his position. It was almost too much for him. “I’m ready. Honestly, at this point I wouldn’t even care if I wasn’t. Are you going to take your dick out now or what?” It was absolutely lewd watching Alhaitham undo his pants, the wet fabric clinging to his thighs and the afternoon sunlight glinting off of them and the hand that was covered in lube from toying with Kaveh’s arse. And the juxtaposition between himself- naked, sweaty, flushed and achingly hard with piss- and Alhaitham, barely a hair out of place and yet his dick as wet as his pants. Kaveh’s legs were so numb that he could barely pick himself up properly and it was only Alhaithaim’s steady hands that helped guide him. He kept it slow, the gentle stretch of being filled so much feeling like it was too much even when he’d barely lowered himself, Bottoming out got celebrated with a gush of piss that hissed between them, spattering Alhaithaim’s chest and taking the edge off the pressure. He continued to roll his hips, shivering every single time Alhaitham’s cock jabbed at his bladder. He wanted to both chase and escape the pleasure but whenever his movements stuttered, Alhaitham quickly snapped his own hips up to prompt him to continue, or would shove him back down harder. More piss leaked out of him, much more than any of his previous leaks and it left him a bit more clear-headed and able to focus. He decided not to comment on how Alhaitham had gone back to working. Or pretending to. Not even Alhaitham was skilled enough to be able to neatly write while having someone fucking themselves on top of him. Fine then. He would give Alhaitham a show to distract him from his pretend work. He leaned back, edge of the desk digging into his back. “It’s not enough,” Kaveh whined. “If I’m going to be fucked, I want it done properly.” He threw on his most seductive grin - the one that had anyone except for Alhaitham swooning and begging for more. “You’re very needy today.” “But you do want to fuck me on the desk, don’t you.” Alhaitham sighed. “I do.” Kaveh just about lost his mind waiting for Alhaitham to meticulously pack up his desk - some of those papers weren’t even legit. Why was he putting them into a neat pile? He really was a bastard sometimes. The resulting jolt from Alhaitham smoothly lifting him and slamming him down on the table shut him up very quickly. The sudden change of position has his bladder fighting against him as his legs get pressed into his chest. Kaveh gasped, helpless to give nothing more than a token protest as another leak pressed out. “I am going to piss right here on your desk, if you fuck me,” Kaveh gave one last warning, conveniently ignoring how he’d already ruined the desk. His pissed pooled around him, soaking into the ropes wrapping around his lower back. “You say that as if that isn’t what I want to happen,” Alhaitham scoffed. “If you complain during cleanup, I will hit you.” “Duly noted.” Alhaitham wasted no time in entering him. And fuck… it was a lot. Normally Kaveh was the king of taking cock whenever he decided that he was in the mood for it. But Alhaitham stretched him out - his entire body tingling from being so on edge - and the cruel way that he mercilessly slammed into his bladder, testing it and only pressed forward harder when he spurted. Kaveh couldn’t even press back against Alhaitham’s thrusts. He was too tied up and too tired to force that out of him. His head dropped back and he let himself go, enjoying the slew of sensations. Naturally, Alhaitham brought himself to orgasm first. Kaveh couldn’t feel anything inside him, but he could tell in the way Alhaitham’s nails dug into his skin and he moaned deeply - one of the few vocalisations that afternoon apart from jabbing quips. Which meant that now he was even fuller. It was surely his imagination, but he could feel the pulsing of Alhaitham’s come against his bladder. And due to the lube and cum in him, Alhaitham slipped out. Already, he could feel it leaking out, and that was that for him. Kaveh’s attention narrowed in on that pinpoint of pleasure and Alhaitham grabbed at his cock that had been abandoned for so long - shivering, the pressure struck him to his core and he could do nothing except pant and moan as the hand on his cock continued to milk every bit of pleasure that it could. Everything mounted to a true climax as his bladder muscles tried to relax, but were not the driving force anymore, and were forced to wait. His dick hadn’t even softened when he finally lost control. The painfully strong stream shot into Ahaitham’s chest and splattered everywhere. It petered out quickly. Kaveh rested his head against the table to try and gain his bearings. He lay there panting as piss dribbled onto the floor. “You look like a wreck,” Alhaitham commented from above. He’d wasted no time in neatening up his drenched clothing. He would have said a nasty quip back if he had the energy left over. Instead, he settled for a crooked grin and said, “Don’t care - feel too good.” “And how am I going to get back to work if you’re planning to take a nap on my desk?” “You could take me to bed.” “I could, but I could just go by myself.” Kaveh grinned before grabbing the end of the knot on his wrists with his teeth and pulling on it to loosen it. “I’ll take myself then.” “You really need to get better at pretending that I make my knots difficult to undo.” “Where’s the fun in that?” “That’s exactly where the fun is.” Using his just-freed fingers, Kaveh began to unravel the ropes. Alhaitham got his message and joined him, together making quick work of unwrapping him now that they were done for the day. Not that it would take too long for them to do something in the near future. ------------- Hope you enjoyed reading this~
This is the story of a cute, redheaded human girl who wets herself and has sex. It's obviously more nuanced than that, but you'll find that out. There is messing, but I'll make sure there is an indicator where the messing part is, so that you can see it. This story is a one-shot. No more chapters after this. Characters Erin O'Donnel, the narrator and main character of the story. Erin is a medicinal researcher, a peon in the massive system that is the corporation which owns the planet she was born on. Erin has high hopes of doing something meaningful with her life, instead of just obeying the plan set for her and fitting into the paradigm. She also likes to wet her pants and have many, many orgasms. Columbia Jacosta, the head of the Research and Development department of Chimera, a terrorist organization turned government. She is cool, calculating, and horny. Columbia is hispanic- the picture does not QUITE do her justice in that sense. Mist- The leader of the terrorist group "Chimera". Mist is an enigmatic figure, and there is almost nothing known about her. She is extremely protective of her identity, and wields great power. She doesn't have a last name, like Madonna. The Story Begins... Chimera! Oh, to work for Chimera! Never in my life, not once, have I felt the sense of purpose, the dignity, and the righteousness, that I feel working for Chimera. They call it a terrorist organization, but they simply don't understand. Through Chimera, we are freed. I certainly was! I had given four years to Medicorp, before Chimera came. I had been raised on Planet Medicorp, I had been taught by Medicorp Education, I had been hired and trained by Medicorp Inc. The corporation had been my world- nay, it had been my universe! I would have been lucky to consider myself a cog in the machine. No, no matter how hard I worked, I was never a 'cog'. Perhaps a pin, or a screw- but nothing so important as a cog. Then, Chimera came, and set me free. To explain, for those of you who may not understand- in the year 2248, corporations own planets. There are no countries, no governments. There is only the rule of PSI, and the obedient corporations which live to serve the Psionic Order's desires- and line their pockets in the process. I lived on the planet Medicorp. I was born on the planet Medicorp, and I was fully convinced I would die on the planet Medicorp. It may seem bleak, but to be frank, it was a decent existence. I had food to eat, a comfortable bed, work that challenged me, and luxuries that tittilated me. This did not change when Chimera took over, save for the fact of tittilation. Oh, how very tittilated I was, by Chimera. To explain further-- Chimera was a terriorist organization which rose in the year 2251. "Chimera", the beast with 3 heads, they called themselves! An apt title, because of their three departments. The "Enforcement Department", which, to the media, was little more than a gaggle of thugs- the "Humanoid Resources" department, ran by a literal gangster, turned political- and my favorite, the "Research & Development" department, headed by Mistress Columbia Jacosta- the most beautiful, intelligent, powerful woman I have ever seen in my life. I am not ashamed to admit I had masturbated to her several times. That is, before I met her in person. My name is Erin O'Donnel. I am a green-eyed, red-haired, pale-skinned, freckled girl. I like to believe I have an attractive body- my breasts are a C cup, and I am within my ideal BMI. I am a scientist, if you haven't guessed this by now, and I once worked for Medicorp. I confess, while I did watch the Galacta-streams concerning the rising of Chimera, I never considered that they might come to my planet. I also never cared, until I saw Mistress Columbia on the screen. I immediately fell in love with her. Though she might have loose morals, though she might be callous, heartless, and manipulative, I still love her. In fact, I love her even more for this. She is the epitome of everything I had ever hoped to be- attractive, intelligent, successful, powerful... brave. Unfortunately, I will never be brave- but I like to fantasize. I also like to fantasize about situations in which I am not brave. That is, ah, situations in which I wet myself in terror. I get off to this sort of thing. Medicorp is- sorry, was, the premier producer of medical supplies in the known Galaxy. You may have guessed from the name. As for my job, I was a Gene Mapper. I spent my days tweaking and tinkering with DNA and RNA strands to try and produce an "Ideal Cell", the end-product of my job, which could be cloned and injected. The concept was that an Ideal Cell would behave like a stem cell, but with a specific purpose pre-programmed into it. Ideal Cells could be injected into cancer to re-grow the cancer cells into functional tissue- not just 'destroying' the cancer, but actually manipulating it into something good for the body! I was very proud of this research. I was also proud of my role in it. This sort of research was planned by generations- In the ancient past, like perhaps the year 2023, this project was started with the expectation that scientists like me would give their entire lives to it, breed, educate their children, and have their children replace them. Naturally, this is a lot of pressure. Being a fundamental part of this ambition made me proud, but also gave me nightmares. I wet the bed until I was 12 years old. I also still wet the bed sometimes, even though I am 26 years old, but it is very rare. I also occasionally wet my pants. This will be explained later. Putting it simply, I often get very distracted- very involved in my work. When Chimera came, I was blessed enough to meet Mistress Columbia and shake her hand. My 'involvement' in my work soon bordered on obsession. While the ownership of the planet changed, the goal did not- and I was absolutely determined to produce results as quickly as possible. While "Ideal Cells" were originally designed as a cure for cancer, they could very easily be used in curatives and wound bindings- something that is in high demand, when you are trying to overthrow the government of an entire galaxy. I cared not for the far-reaching medical goals, or the consequences of rebellion- the only thing I cared about was impressing Mistress Columbia. So busy, I was! Busy, busy busy! Oh, I was especially busy, on the day of the breakthrough. It had been four months since Chimera had liberated the planet Medicorp. Certainly, a number of my friends and colleagues had died in the invasion, and I survived by hiding in a closet and crying to myself- but it had been worth it. Under Chimera I was better paid, given more time off, and more benefits. Also, I was assured in the knowledge that my research would help a woman I revered as a Goddess, were I successful. I distinctly remember having discomfort in my belly that day. Miss Columbia herself was on the planet, touring the facilities, and I was completely determined to complete the research. I neglected the needs of my body, focusing instead on the computers, the microscopes, the glass slides. Eventually the discomfort in my belly went away- I paid it no second thought. I clocked in early, I skipped my lunch, and I worked into the evening- by 1600 Galactic Standard Time, the prototype of the Ideal Cell had been completed. As I was the head of this project, I gathered the data (Put it on a thumb drive,) and rushed it to Mistress Columbia herself. This was the second time I had met her, the second time I had been graced with the sound of her voice, the touch of her hand. I gave her the materials. She flipped the device idly in her hand, plugging it into a wearable computer attached to her wrist, and parsed the data in a matter of seconds. She did not seem interested in it, much to my dismay. But the dismay did not last, because it seemed that I was the thing that had caught her interest. "You've spent your whole day on preparing this data for me, haven't you?" She asked me, looking me over. Her eyes seemed lascivious to me- but that may have been my hope, rather than my observation. "Yes!" I told her eagerly. "I wanted to make sure it was ready for you, Miss Jacosta! This- This is my life's work, and you hold it in your hand. I hope that it pleases you." "Indeed," the woman replied to me, as if it were not important at all. "I'd like to show you something. Will you come with me?" She asked me, yet, she also reached down and grasped my hand. I almost fainted then and there, but I persevered, and went with her. Her question was a command, and I was compelled to obey. In a daze, I allowed her to lead me along by the hand, unaware of what was happening. We gradually made our way to the suite she was staying in. A mere wave of her hand unlocked the door, and she brought me inside. Fear gripped me at this moment- me, personally, invited into the home of a genius? I wasn't worthy! "Shhh," Mistress Columbia cooed to me, as if sensing my anxiety and fear. Her hand was soft against my cheek, and I looked expectantly up to her. I had not realized it until just now, but she was nearly a full foot taller than me. I felt small in comparison, but I also felt pleasure. "Come with me." The bronze skinned woman lead me gently over to her refresher room, and parked me in front of the full-length mirror on the wall. "What do you see?" She asked me. The nuance of this question overwhelmed me. I was unsure what I was supposed to see, and began hyper-fixating on the various details of my dress. "M- My lab coat's collar is slightly uneven on the left side?" I asked, and Mistress Columbia shook her head. "No, not that! Try again." I tilted my head, reached up and neurotically plucked at my wavy red hair. "I- I didn't brush my hair properly this morning?" I asked again, but the brilliant scholar still shook her head. "Not quite," She told me. "Do you need a hint?" Sheepishly, I nodded. I may or may not have needed a hint, but the act of asking for help ingratiated myself to her, made me dependent on her- I desired this greatly. Immediately, I got my wish. "Here," Mistress Columbia said, tantalizingly raking her fingers up the back of my thigh, until she gripped my bottom. "You don't feel it?" She asked me. "Are you truly that incompetent?" Panic gripped me, at that sentence. "I- I'm--" I stammered, as she moved in closer to me, still squeezing and groping my ass. "Look," She commanded me, as her hands wandered across my body. One hand stopped at the front of my thigh, and tapped my inner leg. "Look here, with your eyes, dimwit. You don't see?" She asked me once again. Though I had been in a state of elation the entire time, I managed to come down from my high just enough to follow her hand with my eyes, and look at myself. I looked at my inner thighs. Wet. They were wet. Slowly, my eyes widened as I realized. Wet! My pants were wet! I had ignored the needs of my body in order to push out the finished product of my research, and my urethra had given up on me. I had lost bladder control, and urinated in my pants. Worse, still- I had completely wet my pants, and I didn't even notice. I had scurried up to Mistress Columbia, bowed and groveled and presented my research to her, and the entire time I reeked of piss, my pants clinging wetly to my legs. A wail of absolute dismay escaped me. I remember my face being hot, so hot- I must have been blushing, my cheeks bright red. I reached down to cover my groin with both hands, as if that could somehow hide what I had done- but Mistress Columbia grabbed my wrist, pulling my hand away. "Bad!" She chided me teasingly, leaning in and putting her chin on my shoulder. "Grabbing yourself between the legs, at your age? That's almost more shameful than wetting yourself." My free hand slowly went down to my side. My body trembled, my throat felt dry. I swallowed, though nothing was in my mouth, staring in the mirror at my pissy pants. "I... I'm sorry..." I managed to stammer out. I wanted to cry, but I refused- I needed to be strong, even in this situation! Yet, even though I felt that way, Mistress Jacosta broke down my walls as if they were made of paper. "You're sorry?" She berated me, reaching up and pinching my jaw with her thumb and forefinger. "You come to me, presenting some research I could have come up with in the shower, having pissed in your fucking pants, and you think sorry will fix it?" I began to cry. My toes curled in my shoes, my hands clenched into fists, and I tried as hard as I could to keep a straight face- but it wasn't enough. I cried. Tears began to streak down my cheeks, ruin my mascara. I was unbelievably ashamed- I was horrified, that not only had I done such a thing, but Mistress Columbia was punishing me for it. "I- I'm- s-- so-- sorry---" I stammered out, trying not to choke. I tried as best as I could, but the only thing I could manage to do was look even more pathetic. Mistress Columbia Jacosta adored this. I could see the way her lips spread open in a sadistic smile of delight. I could see her perfect, clear white teeth. I could see the wild lust in her eyes, that she kept just barely under control. "Piss-pants," She taunted me, fingers raking across my bottom as she moved around in front of me. She stood face to face with me, looking down at me- pinching my jaw and forcing me to look up at her. "You are the most pathetic creature I have ever had the misfortune of meeting," She told me. The scientist pinched my jaw, forced my mouth to open ever so slightly, and leaned over me. Columbia swirled her tongue in her mouth, cleared her throat- and spat directly in my mouth. "Swallow," She commanded me, pushing my chin up with her palm, so my mouth would shut. I wanted to gag- I wanted to cough, to throw up. Mistress Columbia must have sensed this, because she pinched my nostrils shut with her free hand, narrowing her eyes cruelly at me. "SWALLOW," She demanded again... and I did. Blood rushed to my labia, as I became aroused. Columbia gave me a few condescending pats on the cheek, smirking down at the terrified look on my face. "Good girl," She said to me, and I felt a flush of heat between my legs. "You're cute," the golden blonde woman complimented me, sliding her hand behind my lower back. "I- I'm- This isn't p- proper--" I rebutted, trying to adhere to protocol, but I was utterly, completely under her spell. "You aren't proper," She taunted me. "You don't have much worth, either. Except, that you're cute. Except, that I like your body." She tilted her head into a kiss to my cheek, and I completely melted for her. "M- Miss-- Miss Columbia-" I began, and she put an index finger against my lips. "Mommy, " She corrected me. "Mommy, or Mistress. You don't get to call me anything else. Now, what should I call you?" She asked me, coaxing me back into the bedroom. My head was spinning- I wanted to be her property. I wanted to call her 'Mommy'. "Since you still pee in your pants, should I call you baby?" She asked me as she laid me down on the bed, even in my wet pants. "Perhaps I should call you PET," she teased me yet again. My words caught in my throat, as her hands went to my waist and began undoing the buttons on my pants. My heart was beating so fast, I could feel it in my throat. I covered my face with both hands, laying back on the bed, the feeling of shame somehow stronger than my arousal. "W-What-- what are you doing to me?" I stammered, as Columbia was beginning to pull down my pants. The question seemed to stun her. After a brief pause, she crawled up onto the bed, to sit next to me. "I... am trying to have sex with you," She told me, in a straightforward, yet somehow comforting manner. I lowered my hands enough that I could peek past my fingers, up into her amber eyes. "B- But you-- You said all those... those mean things..." I whimpered. The bronze haired woman smiled sweetly at me, bending over such that she was face-to-face with me, brushing a strand of my red hair out of my face. "I'm dominating you," She stated. My cheeks got even redder, my pussy got even wetter, and I had to cover my eyes with both hands again. "You don't like it?" Mistress Columbia asked me. "I can smell your pheromones. Every signal in your body is betraying the truth, girl. You're sexually attracted to me." Even though she was right, I shook my head with embarrassment, parting my fingers so I could look through them. "B-but... but... I... I peed..." I managed to stammer, feeling a tingling sensation in my scalp. "I... I w--... I we...." "You wet yourself," Columbia finished for me, and I covered my face again with both hands. I nodded in acknowledgement. The soft ceiling light of the room lit up my eyes, as I felt my wrists taken and moved away. My eyes snapped open, to see the woman I worshipped face-to-face with me, a playful smirk on her lips. "I like that," She confessed to me. Before the words could register, she tilted her head in, and our lips met. She moved my hands up, up above my head while she kissed me. Her tongue went in my mouth, and I closed my eyes and writhed my tongue along with hers. It was erotic, naughty, but also... tender. I remember that kiss very fondly. A little strand of saliva connected our lower lips as she broke away, and the brown skinned woman rubbed her mouth with her wrist. "I like pathetic girls like you, who wet themselves. I like them very much," Mistress Columbia told me as she stroked my cheek, still flush with blood. She scooted over to the edge of the bed, standing and taking a few steps away. "D- do you like my research?" I asked, shuffling back and sitting upright, propped up on my elbows. A deep, exotic laugh reverberated out of the woman. "Oh, no. Well- I'm interested in your method, and your dedication. But, your research?" She asked me as she turned, facing me and plucking the hems of her skirt with both hands. "Child's play." Despite the act that she was about to commit, Mistress Columbia was the picture of grace, and confidence. She winked at me as she lifted her skirt. She licked her upper lip, parting her legs. I could see her panties clearly- white silk, underneath tan pantyhose that was almost invisible against her legs. "Watch," she commanded me, as if I wasn't already rapt with her. Her panties darkened, as a gush of urine soaked them, and began to run down her inner thighs. Her white panties discolored yellow. Pee gushed down her legs, soaking her pantyhose, splattering all over the floor. She did it effortlessly- there was no pause, no awkwardness. I watched the woman I had been obsessed with piss herself like it was nothing, and my hand went into my wet pants. I didn't even realize I was touching myself. "Mmmmmm, that feels good," She moaned, as if to taunt me. A smirk tugged at the edges of her lips, as she watched my shocked, aroused reaction. I stared at her like an imbecile, my mouth wide open. My mouth must have been inviting, because she came closer to me. She shrugged her lab coat over her shoulders, allowing it to drop off her body into her pee puddle. Mistress Columbia pulled the zipper of her skirt up, the piece of clothing coming undone and falling to her feet as she let go of it. With one hand, she pulled the sleek amber top she wore up over her head, and tossed it aside, crawling into bed with me. "Now we're even. You wet yourself, I wet myself," The bronze haired woman said in an effort to soothe me. Still, I couldn't speak- still, I couldn't think. I mentioned earlier, that I sometimes pee in my pants- frequently it is an accident, but sometimes... it is on purpose. All those times I pissed myself, touched myself, and came, I never imagined sharing this kind of debauchery with another woman- much less a woman who I worshipped. Mistress came onto the bed, straddling my body. She pet my hair fondly, cupped my cheek with her palm. "Mmm, I like pee. You do too, don't you? I could tell." She pinched my cheek, wiggling it like I was a child. "I... I do," I remember replying. "I like to wet myself. It feels good," Mistress Columbia confessed to me, as she crawled her way up. She reached down with both hands, holding me by my cheeks, keeping me in place. "I like to pee on people, too." She scooted up one last time, and lowered herself onto my face, grinding her groin against my mouth. "And... I like to make them drink," my Goddess told me, holding my head in place. Squirming, positioning herself just right, she began to wet herself again- urinating into my mouth, through her panties. "Drink," She commanded me. I couldn't say no- I couldn't deny her. I didn't want to. "Drink," She demanded, and I did. I swallowed her pee. I drank her piss happily. After the pee play, Mistress Columbia finally stripped off her pantyhose, and panties. She peeled my wet pants down off my legs too, teasing and insulting me the entire time. She got me naked, and we had sex. It felt like hours, the time we spent having sex- she touched me, groped me, fingered me. I climaxed in nearly record time! However, that wasn't the end of it. Mistress Columbia fingered me, licked me, caressed me- she gave me pleasure I used to only dream of. She wore a strap-on, and fucked me like I was her plaything. I orgasmed again, and again- but even though I experienced such wonderful pleasure, it paled in comparison to the climax I gave her. I still remember the sound of her screams of pleasure- I still remember the taste of her cum. I lay entangled with her in bed, once we had finished. The sheets were haphazardly cast over us. She laid on her back, one hand holding my thigh, the other rubbing my back. I laid on my side, attached to her- my thigh up on her lap, my head in the crook of her arm. I nuzzled against her side, slid my hand up and squeezed her chest, and she giggled. "You haven't had enough?" Mistress Columbia asked me. "I have," I murmured, "But I still want to touch." I raised my head and scooted up, so that I could breathe and speak. "You really think my work is child's play?" I asked, my pride wounded. Columbia pursed her lip, giving an 'mmm' of thought. "Your work is interesting, and it will serve Chimera well. But, it is not why I came here." This admission inflated my ego. I smiled, pleased, squirming and gently sliding my hips up and down, rubbing my wet, gooey pussylips against Mistress Columbia's thigh. "Did you come here to fuck me?" I asked, and the darker skinned woman replied with a sultry chuckle, her hand going down my back to squeeze my ass. "I did," She admitted that too. "But, there was a reason more important than that." My humping became more eager- before I knew it, I was aroused again, and wanted to have sex. "What reason?" I asked impudently. Mistress slid her arm underneath me, and pulled me on top of her. I was smaller than her, and I fit quite comfortably on top of her- our breasts mashed together, face to face, looking into each other's eyes. My eyes shone with nothing less than utter infatuation- hers glimmered with playfulness. "You wet yourself," She told me, and my face went red with embarrassment. Before I could protest, she put her hand behind my head and pulled me in, silencing me by kissing me. Regardless, I frowned at her once the kiss was done. "W-what do you mean?" I demanded. "Your body language- your expression. You give away endless information about yourself, pet, in ways that only someone like me can see," She told me. I opened my mouth to protest, but she put her finger against my lips instead, and shushed me. "You're a bottom," She told me. "Submissive. Obedient. You're exactly what I want. I could see that tell-tale discoloration on your pants, even though you think it washed out." At this point, my face was red enough to serve as a backdrop for a Tarantino film, but still, Mistress wouldn't let me speak. "You pee your pants for pleasure, don't you?" She accused me, craning her neck up and kissing me before I could deny it. "You wet yourself and masturbate, hmm? I'd say... at least three times a week." She was correct. After some minutes of sloppy, passionate kissing, I managed to pry myself away. My face was hot and red, and I had a bratty expression of frustration on my face. "S- so?" I asked, as if it were totally normal to do what I do. "So what? What are you going to do about it?" This was the wrong question- or rather, the right question. Mistress Columbia pinched my nipple and twisted, narrowing her eyes at me, pulling me against her warm, soft body. "I'm going to punish you," She threatened me, twisting my nipple a little harder. I whimpered at the pain. "Pathetic, piss-pants girl. You're my bitch, now. You're never going to make it to the toilet again." We had sex again, after that. ---- I woke up in her arms. I hadn't expected that- Columbia Jacosta had a reputation for being callous, manipulative, and selfish. I had expected her to leave in the night, having gotten her fill. But she didn't. I woke up in her arms, and I was the happiest girl on Planet Medicorp. I squirmed, writhing my way up so that I could kiss her on the lips, but when I opened my mouth, she put her hand against it. "Terrible," she muttered in a half-awake daze, and I frowned at her. "Oh, and your morning breath is better, is it?" I taunted her. One of her amber eyes popped open, and she looked directly down at my face. Ten minutes later, I was tied, bent over, hanging from the ceiling, and being whipped on the ass with a bundle of plastic cords. I genuinely cried with pain from the experience, and also had an orgasm. "This is turning me on," I declared to my Mistress, about half an hour after my punishment session. Mistress Columbia was dressing me up. I was trying to squeeze into a pair of her pants- and I wasn't capable of doing it alone. Despite the fact that the Hispanic woman who I had completely submitted to had a plumper, thicker bottom than I did, I still could barely fit in her jeans. She was holding them by the belt loops, yanking them up for me. "You have to bounce," She told me, and I looked over my shoulder at her. "It feels like you're giving me a wedgie!" I complained. Mistress laughed at me. I love the sound of her laugh- tinkling, classy, rich and passionate. "Do you want me to give you a wedgie?" she asked, and I sheepishly nodded. "I want to wet myself while you give me a wedgie." Mistress tugged hard, and the jeans finally came up over my hips. "That can be arranged." Columbia had dressed me up. I never wore clothes like this, not on purpose. The pale denim jeans that hugged my every curve were one thing, but the black high-heels I was standing in, the white halter-top that didn't cover my belly, the fuzzy faux-fur scarf around my neck- Normally, I wouldn't be caught dead in something like this. "I look like a prostitute," I complained. My Mistress spanked me in rebuttal. "Prostitutes get paid. You're a slut." There was something immensely enjoyable about the way I looked, the way I felt. I knew I looked garish, but I also felt indulgent. I turned on one heel, looking over my shoulder in the full length mirror that Mistress Columbia had shown me my pissed-in pants just the previous day. "I feel pretty," I declared. In the heels, I was only just barely taller than Columbia- she had to pinch my chin, and pull my face down, to kiss me. "You are pretty." Mistress Columbia walked a circle around me, analyzing the fit of the outfit, reaching out and tugging out a wrinkle here, a fold there. "Yes," she murmured. "Yes, you are pretty." To me, this was a compliment beyond God- I was pleased to be pretty for Mistress. I wanted nothing more than to be her pretty plaything. I spent all my years studying, researching, working- It was what I knew, it was what I was good at. Yet, I still felt a pull, a desire to be cute, obedient, and stupid. "Thank you, Mommy~" She treated me like a prizewinning dog, the way that she trotted around me. Her finger pushed into my thigh, running up towards my groin. I stood still, but I couldn't stop the tingling sensation from going to my head. "Plump thighs," She determined. Columbia went around behind me, and I felt her palm grope my butt, rubbing up and down. "Good ass, mmm, yes. Excellent ass," She determined. I blushed girlishly, like just getting fondled was totally normal. "T-thank you," I replied. Her hand slid up my belly, under my shirt. It lingered there on my stomach, and she gently gave a little pinch. "Good. Some fat." That same hand slid all the way up, under my shirt, and cupped my breast. It squeezed, caressed, groped. "Very nice. Pleasant breasts, squeezable." She played with my chest far longer than was needed for a simple assessment- I felt myself giving in to it, felt my body grow warm, my labia swell with arousal. Mistress let go of me, running her hand up and down the side of my body, feeling the depth of my curve. She leaned in, nibbled on my earlobe, and licked the side of my face. "Wet yourself," She commanded me. So, I did. I wasn't aware of it happening, at first. I didn't do it because I wanted to- I did it because she ordered me to. "W... what...?" I asked in vain. My urethra relaxed, and I started urinating well before the command even registered with my brain. A hot, wet crescent of pee gushed across the back of my thighs, under my ass. The tightness of the denim pants I wore had considerable effect in the way I wet my pants. Those glistening crescents grew a little larger, and dozens of rivulets streaked down the back of my thighs. I wasn't wearing any panties, so the force of my pee stream against my jeans made for an audible hsssssssshhhhh, the obvious sound of my wetting serving to further humiliate me. "A-- ahh-- ahhh....." little whimpers and moans escaped from me, as I pissed my pants helplessly. I was drenched- the back of my thighs were soaking wet, down to my knees, before I was even aware I was peeing. My awareness suddenly snapped in, and I looked down at my lap, seeing the wet patch darkening the fabric on my lap. "Ah!!!" I cried out, shocked at what was happening. I managed to cut my pee stream off. "H- How did you--" I stammered out, but Mistress Columbia shushed me, putting a finger against my lips. "Wet yourself," she commanded me again. I'll never forget the feeling that washed over my body. It felt warm all over, I felt tingles in my fingertips. I felt as if my mind had simply melted. My eyes half-lidded, my entire body relaxed. My urethra relaxed. I resumed pissing my pants in full-force, as natural as if I had been sitting on the toilet. Wet yourself, wet yourself, wet yourself... the command was integral to my very being. Mommy told me to wet myself, so I'll wet myself. I'm wetting myself... my pants are wet... I'm peeing in my pants... "M... Mommy..." I muttered, my head spinning from the accident. My pussy was positively burning with need, but I felt like I couldn't move. I felt my pee gush down the insides of my legs, down the back of my thighs, down into my socks and heels. It felt so good! It felt so right. "Mommy, I... I went pee-pee...." I muttered, speaking words that weren't my own. Mistress Columbia breathed deeply, trying to control herself, but it was clear that she was beyond aroused. She turned me, reaching up and taking my chin, forcing me to look over my shoulder. "Do you see?" She asked me. "See..." I murmured, still in a trance. My eyes flitted to my own legs, in the mirror. They scanned up the back of my calves and thighs. Wet... I was wet. My pants were soaking wet. I had peed my pants. Somehow, seeing it like this snapped me out of the trance. My eyes opened wide, my cheeks blushed pink, and I went to start taking off my pants, but Mistress stopped me. "Don't you see?" She asked again. Two of her fingers ran up and down the hot, damp piss patch on the back of my thighs. "Women are most beautiful when they piss their pants." She was right. I'm not sure how I suddenly comprehended this- I'm not sure how my outlook suddenly changed. It wasn't mind control, because I knew about that. It wasn't a perverted delusion. My tight, tight jeans were soaking wet with pee, because I had wet myself, and it was gorgeous. I couldn't help but pose in the mirror. I stroked my wet thigh. I pulled my waistband out, looked inside my jeans. I pulled the waistband of my jeans out, and wet myself, so that I could see the pee stream splatter against the denim. It was beautiful! It was naughty, kinky... but it was beautiful. "How did you do that to me?" I asked, fascinated with what had just happened. I bent over, rubbing my hands up and down the back of my piss soaked thighs. I stared at my wet pants in the mirror, like I was in a trance. "I instilled the command in your mind, while you were sleeping," Mistress Columbia explained to me. She tugged my jeans waistband out with one hand, reaching into my wet pants with her other hand, teasing my clitoris with two fingers. "There are plenty of commands that will work on you. Most, demand obedience... but some..." Mistress didn't get to finish her point. My apartment was fairly small, though it served my purposes well. A connected bathroom, a kitchenette and living room, a bedroom. We were in the living room, in front of a mirror, getting frisky when the front door opened. It wasn't supposed to do that- It had been locked- but, whoever was coming through the door couldn't be stopped by such a simple mechanism. "Some demand what?" A female voice interrupted their session, modulated through a mask that made it sound almost robotic. Her voice had a monotone, a kind of plainness to it, and yet, it was utterly terrifying. Mist. Mist, the de-facto leader of Chimera. Mist, who was Mistress Columbia's boss. Mist, the woman who was an enigma, unknowable, uncontrollable, and unstoppable. Mist, the woman who nobody knew, yet everybody knew. She just traipsed through the front door, and saw me getting fingered by Columbia, in a pair of pissed in jeans. My face turned pink with shame, but the intruder didn't seem to have any shame of her own. Mist wore a full body suit, a compound of rubber, latex, and elastic. The shiny, sleek black fabric covered her entire body, and she wore a helmet on her head which concealed her face. The tightness of her suit seemed fetish-like, but that didn't matter- the suit never, ever came off. "You're late, Jacosta," The woman scolded her subordinate- imagine that! The brilliant, dangerous, beautiful Columbia Jacosta-- a subordinate! "I can see why. Tardiness, however, is inexcusable." I felt an urge to reply, to stick up for my Mistress, but Mommy stopped me by clamping a hand over my mouth. It was quite a strange sensation, being in the direct presence of this kind of power- mainly because Mist was much shorter than I expected. She didn't even make it up to my chest in height, and yet, she was one of the most dangerous, most feared malcontents in the known galaxy. "I was going to be on my way. I swear, after I was done here-" The blonde woman protested. Though Mist wore a full helmet, and I couldn't see her eyes, I couldn't help but feel like she was analyzing every inch of me, and finding me wanting. ****************MESSY BELOW*********************** "Mess," Mist commanded, before my Mistress Columbia could finish her explanation. The events which followed were, at that point, the most amazing thing I had ever seen in my life. Columbia had dressed me in these tight jeans and a halter top, but she herself had dressed rather snappily. A tan skirt that hugged her legs, white stockings, platform shoes, a button up suit jacket, the same color tan. Her golden hair had been done up into a messy, wavy ponytail. Her look seemed a mixture of casual and professional, and she looked very confident wearing it. It was, therefore, incredible to watch her ruin it. Sweat beaded on Mistress's brow. Her knees quivered, bent uncontrollably. "N--no... No, please--" She begged, but the spell had already been cast on her. She trembled, attempting to resist. I watched her clench and unclench her hands into fists, watched her toes curl in her shoes. "N-no... no! A- ahh... ahh!!" Mistress cried out in despair, huffing, sweating, trembling- but she could not disobey. I watched a glistening, dark wet patch blossom across her butt in that tight little skirt. I watched pee streams run down between her legs, pouring off her skirt like little waterfalls. I watched her face turn pink, her fists ball up, her knees bend. I watched her wet herself, but that was only the start. She completely urinated in her skirt, pee streams dripping straight down, off her bottom. "No! Nooo!!" She cried out pitifully, her knees quaking. A little tent poked out in her skirt, on her bottom- the tent grew bigger, more defined. Then, all at once, the little tent bulged out and made a big, dirty lump in her skirt, with a shameful FFFLAAARPTTT!! sound. Blood rushed to my labia as I became aroused. I simply couldn't help it- the woman I idolized, the woman I loved, helplessly and completely wetting and soiling herself right before my eyes. Columbia's legs quavered a little more, before she bowed down and fell onto her knees. Her mouth hung open in shock, her eyes glazed over with despair. Mist strode over to her, her boots clicking and clacking on the floor as she approached, latex-clad glove reaching out to pet the devastated woman's hair. "How embarrassing," She scolded the scientist, patting her a few times on the cheek. "To do such a thing in front of your newest toy. Stop pretending, would you? You love this." A tremor ran through the girl, her cheeks tinging pink, and she looked away. She couldn't face me, not after that. I was still in shock, at this point. I hadn't realized just what I was contending with. Even if watching Mistress Columbia pee and poop her skirt got me hornier than I'd ever been- and I admit, at this point, I was a pee girl only- There was still this unnerving tension, when I looked at the masked woman. I felt the fear of death, I felt the helplessness of submission. That was when I gingerly reached back, felt my own bottom, and realized that I had also pooped in my pants. The command hadn't even been directed at me! "I- I'm-- I'm sorry--" I stammered out, but my voice caught in my throat. My breath caught in my throat, as well. I realized that I was unable to breathe. I watched as the masked woman came towards me, her hand out, and realized much too late the dangerous truth that I ought to have known from the start-- PSION. My feet left the ground, with a flick of Mist's fingers. I quivered, I peed. There wasn't much left in my bladder, but I wet myself in fear all the same. This was a sort of helplessness I was not prepared for- I desired to submit to Mistress Columbia, it aroused me- but submission to Mist was an inevitability, a necessity if I wished to keep my life. This was the secret that none lived to tell. This was the truth behind her mysterious powers, her charisma, her ability to command. Psion! She was a Psion! And I? I was a victim. I floated down, onto the floor. My body moved the way she willed it to, and my fear kept me from moving at all. I was her rag doll. I felt my heart pounding in my chest, as I was lowered onto my butt. I winced, as I felt the mess in my pants mush all over my butt. It felt disgusting. Something like this had never happened to me before, and I hated that it sexually aroused me. I winced and whimpered as I was bounced up and down, slid back and forth. "What a dirty girl you are," Mist said to me. Her words had no emotion, no personality behind them- I got the impression that she simply didn't care. "I- I--" I stammered, terrified and horny. "I'm... a dirty girl." I liked saying that. At least, I convinced myself that I enjoyed saying that. She flicked her fingers out, and I was slammed back, onto the floor. I laid on my back like that, squirming and whining. My pants were soaking wet, cold and clammy. There was a filthy mess all over my ass. I was more turned on than I ever had been in my life. Mist approached me, straddled me. She put her heel against my groin, and started to grind it against my pussy. I made little whimpers of pleasure, and humped the deadly woman's heel. "A harlot, I see," Mist insulted me. "A degenerate. Very well. I know just what to do with degenerates like you." She stepped further up, still straddling my body. Looking straight up, I could see between her legs. It was like a junction of obsidian. Her fingers weaved into a little flap that ran up her belly from her crotch, and she pulled a zipper up, exposing herself. Violet? I could have sworn I saw violet skin. It made no sense to me, so I blocked it out. Even though there was this violet cunt peeking out at me between the zipper teeth, it couldn't have been. Psions were humans. They were always human! There was no such thing as an alien Psion. There was, however, a cunt right above me. There was also a hand in my piss soaked jeans- my hand. She parted her labia with two fingers, exposed her urethra, and started to pee on me. I writhed, moaned, and masturbated. The most powerful woman in the entire galaxy- at least, as far as I knew- was using me as a toilet. I was honored, and very, very turned on. The arc of her pee stream began to fall, her urination began to taper off. Mist squatted down, right over my face, urine dripping steadily off her cunt as she finished. "Good girl," She said to me. She gave me that same condescending cheek pat that she had given to Mistress Columbia, and then reached down and zipped her suit back up. "M-Miss--" I stammered out, but it wasn't necessary. Even without saying it, she knew what I wanted, what I needed. Her latex clad hand dove right into my pee soaked pants, and she began to rub and finger me. She did it with near medical precision, two fingers pumping in and out of my piss and cum drenched pussy, her thumb flicking and rubbing against my clitoral hood. I orgasmed in roughly five minutes. "My, you've found an obedient one," the black clad woman mentioned to my Mistress. After I came, she put her fingers in my mouth, and I quite willingly sucked my own ejaculate off them. "Shameless, as well. I understand now, why you were late. Unfortunately, I cannot allow this to happen again." A strand of saliva stuck to Mist's fingers as they popped out of my mouth, and she looked back to Mistress Columbia, who was still blushing and squirming. I didn't realize it at the time, but Mistress pottying in her skirt and not being pleasured immediately after was driving her mad. "You are coming with me." She hoisted my Mistress to her feet, starting to guide her towards my apartment front door, which the bronze haired woman fought against. "N- no! I can't go out there! I have to clean up!" She complained, and Mist sharply struck her on the bottom as punishment. "You will go where I command you to go. You are going to march with me to your bedroom. Everyone is going to see that you wet and soiled yourself." Dragging the reluctant scientist towards the door, the helmeted woman turned back to look at me, tilting her head with curiosity. "And you... are going to forget," She said with a wave of her fingers. "Forget what?" I asked, but to no avail- there was no way to figure out what I had forgotten, forever. While they were on Planet Medicorp, my new Mistress, and HER Mistress, visited me a number of times. I had many, many orgasms. All in all, it was a mostly positive experience. The only issue I had come to face was the strange water bowl chair, that had it's own room. Why did it have its own room? It didn't make sense! I did enjoy looking at the strange room, however. There was a perverse enjoyment, standing in that room when I wet myself. I also have been finding myself doing much more laundry lately, but I suppose that makes sense. I pee my pants every day, after all. Sometimes I get the feeling that there's supposed to be something that I can use for that... but it's easy to dismiss such a thought. If I'm not supposed to piss my pants, why does it feel so good?
I will 100% say that I'm just using a similar idea to user's OrionBelt's idea which they have also posted here: I honestly can't believe I never considered this idea despite it being so gold. So I hope you like my take on it. --- Warner couldn’t believe his luck, both good and bad. He had just applied and got into college, which he thought was great considering his mediocre grades throughout high school. Unfortunately the bad luck came from after getting through the application process, particularly when it came to his living situation. The standard dorms were full, perhaps this school should’ve had more stricter standards seeing as they let someone like him in. So he was left with some rather terrible sounding options when it came to a small dorm which only housed a handful of students at best. Said handful of students in this case all being girls outside of him. Due to just the uneven number, it ended up that he’d be sharing this small dorm with 5 other girls he had never met before, a nightmare for someone such as himself. Warner wasn’t someone who was a mess when it came to women, but he was far from confident with being with them. He had only gone on one date throughout all of high school and it was a disaster, leaving a mental scar on the man. If he had to live with just girls this year in college, then he knew he would never lose that anxious feeling he had as he pulled into the small parking space besides the building where he’d be spending his college life at. The dorm was a bit rundown, to call it just old would be a compliment. From what he was told, the only private places they’d be able to afford here would be just their bedrooms. Other than that, the kitchen, dinning, and entertainment space would all be shared across them. This also included the lone bathroom in the center. He took a deep breath as he got out of his car and grabbed his backpack. There were many other things he needed to bring inside, but this would be enough to start with as he needed to find his room. Warner used the key given to him to unlock the door and walked inside. He heard the sounds of a television, where he eyed a girl with brunette sitting by herself while also using her laptop. “Hello?” He spoke nervously. “Um, I’m Warner. I’m supposed to be living here?” “Oh?” She turned her head, revealing a pretty face. “Ah, right it’s you.” She got up, smiling as the girl walked to him and introduced herself. “I’m Lorene.” They shook hands as he also introduced himself. From the looks of the main room for this dorm, it appeared that it was small enough that every facet was visible regardless of where one stood. So the only true privacy one could attain was either their own bedrooms or the bathroom, which was separated between the toilet and shower portion. “It looks like everyone else is already here.” He commented, noting the name tags on all the doors besides one of them. “Yeah, we’ve all been living here for a few days now.” She answered, still maintaining her charm. He was glad the first person he met here was kind, hopefully the others would follow suit. “I can’t say that living with a guy was something I wanted to do when I got to college, but I promise we don’t have to make it weird.” “That’s good.” He wasn’t sure how he’d act about the situation too, but Warner knew he didn’t want to come off as some sort of creep. That would lead to numerous complications. “But I can’t promise that for everyone.” For the first time upon seeing her, he saw her frown a bit. “We’ve kind of been talking about it since we all got a head start. So I know some of the girls aren’t happy about this, but I think we can make it work.” Her words only served to make him more concerned about that situation. Those girls who were against his presence could do something to force him out, but he’d have to meet them to know for sure what they might be willing to do. His train of thought became broken when the pair heard a banging on the front entrance. Since it was large double doors with full windows on both side, they both were able to see a short girl banging. “Lorene! Can you open the door?” She yelled, her voice muffled through the glass, as she also danced around. “Oh, did you forget your keys again?” Lorene walked at a brisk pace to open up the door for the clearly desperate girl. “You know, one day one of us isn’t going to be around to let you in.” “I know, I just totally forgot.” The new girl made a beeline towards the bathroom, but stopped when she saw Warner. “Who’s this?” “This is Warner.” Lorene answered. “He’s the guy that’s supposed to be living with us.” “Oh, that’s cool.” She extended a hand and introduced herself. “I’m Rosaline, nice to meet you.” He would’ve properly introduced himself, but she was far too much in a rush. “Sorry, I just need to use the ladies room.” She had her thighs tightly pressed together as she talked to him. A lot of her was on full display with her thick thighs exposed due to her short shorts. Then she finally made her quick exit to the privacy of the bathroom to relieve her bursting bladder. He was unsure about the sight he had just witnessed. The girl was obviously desperate to pee, yet she wasn’t shy at all about it around him. Something about the scene made his own heart race a bit. “She’s such a klutz sometimes.” Lorene commented, giggling about the display. “Come on, you need some help getting your stuff to you room? I got your back.” “Thanks.” He said as they went outside to his car. Warner could tell this would certainly be an interesting experience he would have over the course of the next school year. Edited January 29 by AD51 Font size (see edit history)
Chapter 2 Warner had moved all his things into his room and couldn’t be more unsure about his newfound living situation. Being the only guy with a bunch of girls was nerve racking, especially for someone like him. If he were a more confident man, then maybe, but this wasn’t the case for him. Not to mention they all had to share one single bathroom across the six of them. Even if all those ladies were men, he’d still be feeling a little uncomfortable with the situation, and it appeared he wasn’t alone when he would meet the others in the evening. “So you’re the one who’s going to be living with us.” After being dragged from his room where he had spent his afternoon trying to relax. Warner had found himself seated at the dinner table surrounded with the rest of his roommate. The five pairs of eyes all staring at him made him feel self-conscious, the judgment from some was oppressive. “Yeah…” He answered the girl who made the statement. She was taller than the others, but also more slender at the same time. They hadn’t even properly introduced themselves and she already had a glare sent his way. “Don’t worry about him, Courtney.” Lorene took his side on the matter as she grabbed the other girl’s shoulders in an attempt to calm the situation. “I met him first and he’s a really cool guy.” “Yep, going to agree with her there.” Rosaline also was on his side. He was fortunate that those two were there, but still needed a majority. “I just don’t see how it’s appropriate to have a man here when we’re just fine with the five of us ladies.” Courtney argued. “How can we be sure he’s properly vetted?” “Yeah, he could be a real creep.” There was another girl against his presence. Similar to Courtney, she was also taller than the others. However that was there the similarities ended with her toned muscles and rough fiery red hair. “If I find you doing something weird, I’m going to beat you up.” “Don’t take her seriously.” The only other girl who hadn’t introduced herself finally spoke up as well. She had the palest skin among them all and the bags under her eyes meant she either didn’t sleep much or spent too much time staring at a screen in the dark. “She’s just all nervous because we’ll all have to share one bathroom with a guy now. Oh, I’m Madison, by the way, and she’s Erica.” “Don’t just tell him my name like that.” Despite not being a serious matter, Erica took issue with how lackadaisical her roommate was being. “And there’s nothing wrong with the bathroom concern either.” Said Courtney. Warner felt the awkward anxiety of discussing bathroom usage with a bunch of girls. It only served to remind him of his only other poor experience with one. “What’s wrong? You don’t want men realizing that girls po-” “It’s just not a good thing to have such personal things in what should be a private spot for someone like him to take.” Madison was cut off before being able to say such an obviously embarrassing thing. He couldn’t believe how brash a girl could be. “If he does something bad, we’ll just get him kicked out, it’s okay.” Lorene assured everyone, which only served to make him more worried about himself with how much power they acted as though they had. “Really the only complicated part is the shower time, so we can just set up a schedule for that.” And they indeed set up a schedule that worked out for everyone. For Warner, this meant getting the time set rather late at night, which wasn’t an issue for him at all. His classes afforded him the ability to wake up later than most and he already was a bit of a night owl. So he was more than happy with the situation. What he wasn’t expecting was what would happen when he took a shower in this dorm for the first time. After it reached night and the time he had decided was best for him, the man grabbed his things and headed to the shower room located right besides the bathroom. Stepping out of his room, he spotted Lorene standing by it. “We did say it’s my turn to use the shower, right?” He spoke to her much more confident than before. While he still had his aversions when it came to the opposite sex, she was the one out of everyone here he didn’t mind talking as much. She really was a kind girl and he felt safe expressing himself. “I’m waiting for the toilet before bed.” She answered, making sure to stand up straight upon realizing his presence. Her point about this being right before sleeping made sense as she wore a comfortable shirt with loose pajama pants. “But of course I drew the short stick, had to be last, and now Courtney’s taking forever in there.” “That sounds pretty rough.” He was glad that he could just use the shower to relieve himself right before bed. Though Warner was more concerned about how he would be able to work through all the girls in sharing this bathroom otherwise. “Right.” She simply only nodded with a small smile in response. It disappointed him to see her be much less talkative with him than before. She had been so open earlier, so hopefully the other girls didn’t convince her that he was a bad guy. “Well, go ahead.” She stepped aside so that he would be able to enter the shower room. “Thanks.” He walked in and set down his shower things. Warner turned on the water and began to strip as it heated up. This was when he heard a banging noise followed by a loud voice. “Courtney, hurry up!” He heard Lorene speak. This was a different side of her he had yet to see. It sounded very urgent as she audibly groaned in what sounded like giving up. Then he heard the door handle to the shower room quickly rotate and the door swung open. He had forgotten to lock the door, not thinking about it as he normally didn’t have to do this at home. Before him was Lorene, her hand dug deeply in her crotch and her face filled with desperation. “Oh my god, I have to piss so bad!” It turned out her reserved behavior before had little to do with him. She simple was holding back a massive flood after all the drinks from dinner and having to wait for four other girls to handle their business before getting a chance to relieve herself. So she had been wrestling with not losing control while talking to him while trying not to seem obvious about it. Hearing him turn on the water had done it for her. Her bladder heard the rushing sounds of water and wanted to do the same thing in her pants. “Excuse me, I’m so sorry.” Warner had taken off all his clothes sans his underwear. Still, in embarrassment he grabbed a towel to try and cover himself more as a pretty girl could easily see him almost naked. Though she had more pressing concerns, hence why she wasn’t in mind that she just intruded on something about to take a shower. “J-just move.” She didn’t even have time to tell him to leave the room as she felt the beginnings of her bladder squeezing and forcing her pee out regardless of when she wanted it to. Lorene stepped into the shower, ripping down her pants, and unleashed a torrent that was plainly visible to him as she squatted down. He stared for a couple seconds in awe of the force of her piss jet matching the strength of the shower head. It then dawned on him that he was watching a girl pee, which was wrong and quickly closed his eyes and placed his hand over his own crotch to hide the growing erection from the moment. “Ah…” She breathed a sigh of relief after finally being able to let out the contents of her bladder. After she had finished, the girl stood up and pulled her pants up to cover her decency. Ironically her pants got a little wet from the water splashing from the shower, but there was no damage otherwise. “I’m so sorry.” She spoke, allowing him to open his eyes. Lorene was slightly covering her own face in absolute humiliation over what she had just done. “Just… Pretend that didn’t happen, okay?” With that, she quickly walked away with her face down trying to act like she didn’t just piss in front of a guy who was half naked. “Right…” He spoke after she closed the door. Warner had a hard time controlling his emotions as he took off the rest of his clothes, revealing how much his body apparently enjoyed the sight. His shower time was going to be a little interesting.
Chapter 3 The next morning, Warner still had the moment ingrained in his mind. Lorene had really been in such a state of desperation that she dropped her pants right in front of him and peed. The worst part for him was that the entire experience had turned him on. There was no way to lie to himself about how his little buddy felt down below to the sight. Especially considering what he did during his shower right after, knowing he was standing right over the spot where she had unleashed the waterworks. It shouldn’t be normal to feel that way, right? As he got ready for the day, there was a knock on his door when the sun had barely risen. Warner answered it to see Lorene standing before him. “Hey.” She greeted him quietly. “Mind if I come in and talk with you?” It was evident that she wished for this to be private and it was even more plain on what the subject matter would be about. He allowed her inside without argument, closing the door behind her. “I just want to apologize again about last night.” Lorene spoke, sitting down on his bed. “That’s… Okay.” He wasn’t sure how someone in his position should reply. It was easily one of the more awkward moments in his life, second only to what had happened on his lone date once. “I’m sure it was just bad luck.” “Actually, that’s what I wanted to tell you.” She clarified. “You see, I wish that sort of stuff happened way less often.” “You mean?” He was shocked. Did she mean that she’d have more toilet emergency in the future? “I mean, it’s not easy sharing one bathroom with four other girls. Don’t tell the others I said this, but we’ve all pretty much had some blunders.” “Wow.” The thought ran through his mind of the other girls being in the same state as she was that night. He had already a taste of Rosaline with her thigh squeezing, but someone like Courtney or Erica crossing their legs and holding themselves after the poor attitude they gave him. Then he had to shake such inappropriate thoughts from his mind. “Except for Madison, I guess. I hardly see her leave her room to be honest.” She continued on. “Anyway, I hoped we could all make this work, but it looks like I’m the one who made an idiot of myself.” She frown, turning her face down in shame. “Hey, don’t worry about it.” He assured her. “I’m not judging you or anything.” She had been far too kind to him for the man to just mock and insult her for losing control of her bladder. “So… You wouldn’t say that’s a deal breaker or anything?” She said while avoiding to look at him. “What do you mean?” He asked, confused. “For what?” “Huh? Have you ever dated anyone?” “Once, but it didn’t go well.” Warner answered truthfully. “I hate to say it, but I’ve never been good around girls.” Just having her alone in his own bedroom made him anxious as it were. “So I’m not the best at understanding those kinds of things. Why, is a deal breaker have to do with dating?” “Never mind, forget I said that.” She gave him a smile, finishing their conversation by leaving. “Gotta get ready for class, you probably got somewhere to be too.” Lorene wasn’t wrong as he also needed to prepare for his first day of classes. Warner took care of his morning routine and headed out onto campus for the first time since orientation. The first day going through the standard introductions were boring for him, but the man was thankful there’d be nothing hard to worry about for now. There was already enough on his plate with his living situation. Because things were so easy, his mind was allowed to wonder about what Lorene had said earlier about deal breakers. The more he thought about it and her following question about his history with girls, did she imply that she had been worried about how he viewed her? Was this her subtle hint of implying some sort of interest? Warner shook the thought from his mind. There was no way, he thought. He was just getting a bit much because he was surrounded with girls and needed to stay focused before he made a terrible mistake. Finally his round of classes were done for the day and he walked back to the dorm. Upon getting close enough to see the front entrance, he spotted someone standing there peering through the windows. It was Rosaline, dancing on the spot as she knock on the door. “Oooh, is there anyone back yet?” She said aloud, taking out her phone to try and call someone. “I’m back.” He announced his presence once he got close enough. “Did you forget your keycard again?” “Oh my gosh, you’re my hero.” She took a deep breath, trying to stay still. However her attempts failed as she continued to wiggle her butt in plain desperation. Said butt was barely contained in her tight short jeans. “Now come on, unlock it.” She begged him as he reached out the keycard to scan to the card reader. He didn’t think he took long at all, but apparently even these short seconds were too much for Rosaline. She gasped as he unlocked the door and opened it for her to make the dash to the bathroom. “Uh oh.” Her bladder had begun to fail her as instead of running inside, she stepped off and leaned against the wall besides them. There she undid her jean short, ripped them down, then squatted as a torrent of her pent up piss shot out and hit the concrete with so much force that even some spatter hit him. “Whoa!” He was taken aback as Warner fell into a trance, staring at her as she pushed out the full contents of her bladder onto the ground. “I guess your timing was pretty bad after all.” She giggled, appearing impressive with her flow. “Oh, um, I’m sorry.” He stumbled over his words as he got a full view of her as she continued to release her waterfall of piss. “Don’t worry about it.” Unlike Lorene, Rosaline didn’t care that much that a man got such a view of her. “I mean, when you gotta go, you gotta go, right?” “Um… Right.” He couldn’t do anything else but stand and wait for her to finish. It would be too awkward to walk inside and close the door only to have to open it again for her. But having to stand and basically watch while holding the door was also its own brand of strange. “Ah, finally.” She breathed a sigh of relief as her stream slowly trickled down. Her bladder really had reached max capacity if the massive puddle she left behind was any indicator. “Well, guess I didn’t make it this time.” She said. “Thanks for holding the door.” Then Rosaline talked as if nothing happened as she walked inside. “Um, no problem.” He was at a loss for words, for this was now the second time he had watched a girl succumb to her bladder in as many days.
Chapter 4 Warner was unsure of how to feel about his living situation. Not because he was the only guy living with girls, but that somehow it turned out that sharing one bathroom with five other people was more difficult than he thought. It made him appreciate being an only child in a household that had two bathrooms. Or was it particularly because of the girls themselves? Rosaline didn’t mind him seeing her unleash her flood right onto the concrete, so she likely had gotten used to being caught short. But Lorene was most certainly embarrassed about her display, but it could’ve also been because she gave him front row seats to her dropping trou. On one hand, seeing their bare bottoms weren’t a bad sight at all. On the other, it was also accompanied with seeing their golden liquid and he was unsure if he should be okay with how he felt. It probably wasn’t a good idea to “think” about Lorene squatting down and pissing in the shower as he did some personal things to himself. But he couldn’t help it either. As he sat down at the couch, watching some random TV show he didn’t particularly care for. Warner heard the front door open violently as Erica rushed inside. She had just finished a workout, it seemed to him, as she wore a light tank top with some tight gray leggings that showed off her shapely butt. She made a beeline straight to the bathroom, only to find it locked. The girl then proceeded to knock on it and make her complaints clear. “Courtney, are you in there again? Can’t you stop hogging the toilet?” “Actually it’s me, Rosaline.” A less sophisticated voice answered. “I’m just cleaning the bathroom, it shouldn’t take that much longer.” “Ugh, fine.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall to wait. In doing so, she noticed him sitting on the couch. “Just go away.” That was all she had to say to him. “What did I… Never mind.” He realized her entering had caught his attention, so he went back to watching TV. Shortly after her arrival, another girl entered through the front. “Yo Erika, didn’t you see me?” It was Madison coming back from class. “Why didn’t you keep the door open…” She noticed the girl standing besides the bathroom door. “Ah, I see.” She said with a smirk, putting her backpack right besides the couch to sit besides Warner. “How was class?” Warned greeted her with some small talk. When it came to the girls, he had barely interacted with half of them. Madison was one of the girls who didn’t outright hate him, but it wasn’t as though they were friends either. “Boring.” She answered, lying back to get herself comfortable on the cheap couch. “But at least you got something interesting on.” “I do?” It wasn’t a show he was into, but he didn’t think she’d be into either. However as they sat next to each other. Warner couldn’t help but slightly turn his head back to see Ericka continue to be in her desperate situation. She did her best not to appear like she was on the verge of wetting herself, but all the water she had consumed during her workout had to go somewhere and it seemed they had already made their way into her bladder. Her legs were tightly crossed, showing just how toned her muscles were as she flexed her thighs. Her face had a slightly strained expression. “Looks like you’re interested in what you have on too.” Madison made a small comment, bringing him back into reality. “Oh, um.” He didn’t know what to say now that he had been caught doing some so clearly perverted. “I’m just watching TV, that’s all.” Warner gave a fake chuckle, trying to keep himself calm as he felt his little guy get not so little. “Heh, sure.” She gave him a smirk, not believing his story. “Hey Erica, didn’t you just finished working out? You’re probably all sweaty and stuff, so why don’t you just hope in the shower and take care of your need at the same time?” “I don’t do that!” Erica responded quickly. “It’s disgusting and can’t you have a tiny bit of a filter? It’s not just us here.” “Come on, we’re all adults here.” Madison cared little for her concern and seemed more interested in making fun of the situation. “Finished.” Fortunately for Erica, Rosaline completed her task in cleaning the bathroom. A part of Warner was disappointed, but then he had to mentally slap himself for somehow wishing a girl would have an accident. Even if it was someone who had been mean to him, like her. “Finally.” Erica exclaimed, quickly moving past her roommate and into the bathroom. Warner had been paying too much attention to her desperate need that he noted a small wet spot around her butt as she entered and shut the door behind her. He thought he might’ve been too perverted in his mind and he was overthinking it, but the man couldn’t help but keep an eye on the bathroom door while she was in there. Finally, after a bit of time, she exited quietly, like she was trying to keep attention away from the others. There she walked towards her room, where he saw her hands unnaturally hanging around her toned butt. Sure enough, there had been a wet spot that couldn’t simply be explained as sweat. She had been leaking while they were talking and might’ve really been on the verge of wetting herself completely. He pictured her rushing to the toilet, barely ripping her leggings down as piss uncontrollably gushed out all over before she sat down. It got him uncomfortable again to an extent where he couldn’t sit besides Madison in good conscience. “I’m going to do some homework now.” He got up and headed for his room.
Chapter 5 Aside from all the toilet troubles, college life was a lot more boring than Warner had anticipated. Somehow despite the supposedly exciting prospect of being surrounded by girls. He found himself with little to do when he had no homework after classes. Truthfully this was because of his own doing. He wasn’t kidding to anyone about being bad with girls. They made him tense up just by being near and he didn’t talk to most of them outside of casual small talk. Not to mention that half of them didn’t even like him, so they didn’t have anything to say to him at all. This left him in an awkward position, especially in this moment as he did his homework on the dining table. As for why he was at the dining table and not in his own room, the multiple men in construction uniforms going in and out was the answer. “The heck is going on?” Madison returned from class and was treated with this sight. While it wasn’t her room, it did bother her a little as his room was adjacent to hers. “There were some wiring issues that couldn’t be ignored.” He answered. While he didn’t listen to the details, all he knew was that it would be dangerous to keep it the way it was and it would only take the day. “So I’m stuck out here.” Not only was the work loud, but being in the main room while some of the girl girls were watching TV weren’t helping his concentration either. “That’s rough.” She didn’t sound sympathetic to his situation, but her actions indicated such. “You just want to study in my room?” She offered. He was surprised and upon asking for confirmation she assured him it was fine. “Relax, I’m not like Erica or Courtney.” With that, he followed her into her room. A part of him wanted to decline as this would’ve been the first time he had been inside of a girl’s room. However he also realized he needed to understand he was an adult now. These things were just normal and he shouldn’t be overthinking it. When he got inside, it was not at all what he had been expecting. Perhaps because it was Madison, someone who didn’t appear particularly girly. But her room was a mess, with clothes strewn on the floor. There was a scent he couldn’t understand under the musky feel and her desk was topped with cans of energy drinks and bottles of sodas. She didn’t even attempt to pretend the mess was temporary. Nor did she do any pretense of saying, she hadn’t cleaned because she didn’t expect any guests. “You can just push my clothes to the ground and lay on the bed. It’s cool with me.” “Uh, sure.” He was uncertain on if he truly went into a better place for his educational pursuit, but it was too late to back out now. Warner did as she suggested, trying to lay comfortable on her bed to read his assigned chapters. Meanwhile she hopped onto her computer, which surprised him to see someone with a fully built PC with all the lights to go along with it. Despite inviting him in, she didn’t speak to him anymore as she put on headphones and chugged one of the energy drinks she produced from her bag. Though it did make sense as he was only in here to have a quiet place to study. So she had given him exactly that. He could’ve lived with her choosing to engage in a hobby which required less action from her as she decided playing a video game was the best option. So he did have to deal a little bit with the constant clatter of her keyboard and clicks of her mouse. Which was easy as he engrossed himself into the book, absorbing the knowledge it had to offer and memorized the contents which would most likely be on a future test. Notes were taken thanks to his laptop, which he had set besides him. Thanks to the ability to have a quiet place, it was easy for him to finish up what he needed to take care of. So Warner ended up not having anything else to do as he closed his laptop. Madison appeared to still be engrossed in some game as the screen illuminated her pale skin. He looked around her room, where he only saw more of a mess than when he first stepped foot inside. A lot of her clothes were thrown about, some of which included her undergarments. It astounded him that she didn’t care he could see, but ultimately would it even matter? Warner knew he should’ve left by now, but it wasn’t as if he had anywhere to go until his room was fixed up. So instead, he laid back and looked at her as she seemed to have forgotten about him. This was when he noticed her in a more tense pose than when he last paid attention to her at the start of his study session. Her legs were crossed as she wiggled about. Then Madison blindly reached for one of her empty bottles during the action of her game. For a moment, he simply thought she had absently mindlessly grabbed the wrong one while being so distracted. This line of thinking would end when he noticed her using one of her hands to pulled down her pants, exposing the underwear underneath and place the bottle between her legs. “Hey, what are you doing!?” He couldn’t remain silent any longer, speaking out loudly in hopes she’d hear him over her headphones. “What!?” She had been given a fright, dropping the bottle and turning to see him. “Oh crap, I totally forgot you were still in here.” Quickly, Madison pulled her pants up to hide her decency. After seeing this girl be so laid back the entire time, her being embarrassed was a new experience for him. “Were you about you…” He didn’t want to finish the sentence, but it was evident she was about to use the bottle as her own toilet. “Just don’t think about it.” She cut him off, quickly pausing her game and jumping from her seat. Madison ran to the door, but when she opened it and checked outside, she immediately closed it shut. “Why am I not surprised.” She muttered to herself. Unsurprisingly a bunch of random workers showing up to their dorm to work would have issues. Particularly in the fact there was only one bathroom and now those men were lined up to use the only toilet available. Madison’s legs bounced up and down as she did a potty dance in front of him. She had put off her need for a while and that energy drink she chugged had worked quickly through her bladder as those drinks tended to do. It also didn’t help that she had already relaxed her bladder for a moment before he interrupt her, so it tasted the need for relief much greater than normal. Author’s note: I want to have a little fun and leave this off as a cliffhanger 😉 But really I just want to hear if anyone wants to have anything specific from this hot situation our “hero” has found himself in.
Here's the outcome of this little moment and thanks everyone for the suggestions. Chapter 6 “Oh my god, oh my god.” Madison did not make any attempts in being subtle on her desperation. She jumped around for a bit before sitting down on her bed. She sat right on the edge, crossing her legs tightly and shoving her hands right onto her crotch. She had to put nearly her entire focus on not leaking out any more urine after her body had already sent the signal to relieve herself. Warner didn’t have anywhere to look other than right at her in this small room. It felt wrong to see a girl right on the verge of an embarrassing accident. Unlike before, it wasn’t like Lorene or Rosaline who could just drop their panties and squat and Ericka at least made it on time. Here it seemed Madison was about to suffer from one of the worst things possible, and he knew from experience. “Hey.” He tried speaking up to calm her and figure a way through this situation. “How come you don’t need to piss?” She asked him with a strained voice. It was a good point, none of them had seen him desperate for a toilet this entire time. Not to mention they had both gone the same amount of time without using one. “I’m just better at hiding it than you.” He answered, also admitting his own need. Warner had been wanting to go to the bathroom for a while, but didn’t want to leave since that meant he likely wouldn’t be allowed back in her room. “I don’t like other people knowing I need to pee.” “Well lucky you that it’s me who’s…” She faded off, realizing how dire her situation was. He was surprised she didn’t tell him to just leave her room. Then she could do what she was about to do in privacy. Though perhaps now that her unfortunate situation was known, she had gotten too self-conscious as it would be obvious what she’d do once he left. “You probably don’t want to hear this, but there is still that bottle.” He pointed over to the plastic bottle she had been about to use. It was just a standard water bottle anyone could buy in a store. At 16oz, it should be enough for one full bladder. “You’re not going to tell anyone, right?” She looked at him intently, not moving in fear of her impending flood coming out and soaking her bed. Warner shook his head. It was at this point he realized why Lorene had stated no one had seen Madison have any problems with bathroom needs. It was that she had quietly been resorting to relieving herself via these bottles instead. His silent confirmation was more than enough for her to get past her shame. She bolted straight for the bottle, picking it up and sitting back onto the bed. She pulled down her pants just enough to have room to place it in the important spot, while also maintaining as much dignity as possible. Then it all spurted out as a jet of piss shot out of her pussy and into the container with full force. The loud hiss as he remained on the bed filled Warner’s ears. Which both aroused him as he also couldn’t help but stare, forgetting his manners, while also being reminded of his own needs. The man couldn’t help but grab himself down there, holding back his own bladder. This apparently did not go unnoticed, as Madison’s stream came to an abrupt end by her own effort. “Hmm? What are you doing?” He asked as she put it up to him. “You need to go too, right?” She said, breathing heavily from her mix of relief of a full bladder and exhaustion from holding it in. “I think I get your type, so you must really have to go.” She wasn’t wrong. Even though he didn’t outwardly show it much, his own bladder was bursting as well. “O-okay.” He accepted the half filled bottle. Normally he’d never agree to this, but his own needs were going to overwhelm him sooner rather than later at this point. Quickly he shifted over to the opposite side of the bed, pulling out his dick and sticking it right to the lips of the bottle. Her own warm fluids swished around as he angled it just right. Then his own floodgates opened as the man relieved himself into the bottle. His piss made a more muted sound as it mixed with hers. Quickly it filled up and knowing that it would overflow if he didn’t stop. Warner grabbed his cock tightly to stem the flow, with a little bit ending up onto the bed as he was not used to doing something as disgusting as this. “Ah, sorry.” He quickly apologized for making a mess on her bed as he capped off the bottle. The plastic warmed his hand as he held the bottle mixed with a concoction of both his and hers piss combined. “Just put it down and I’ll take care of it later.” She spoke without turning to look at him. “And then you can just leave.” He couldn’t see Madison’s face, but it was obvious from her tone that it wasn’t the Madison he had grown accustomed to from their short time together. “Right.” He said, doing as she said. His bladder still ached, but it was better and more manageable than before. Though their relationship certainly took a turn he couldn’t imagine would occur.
Chapter 7 Warner hopes that today would be a nice, chill day. For once he didn’t have to deal with any homework and things were quiet with most of the other girls gone doing whatever it was. Not that he kept track of any, seeing as most weren’t close friends to him. “You.” Courtney was one of those girls who were far from being close friends to him. Especially given her disdain for him existing. “Is that your car in the parking lot?” “Yeah.” It seemed most of the girls didn’t drive themselves here. Once things got settled down, the only one normally using the parking lot who weren’t him and the students living off campus was a brand new sedan where he had a sneaking suspicion on who the owner was. “Then it’s time for us to go shopping.” She said. “I’m the only other one with a car, so everyone else just said it’s my responsibility to do it, but I’m tired of driving.” “I didn’t even realize we just put it all on one person.” Though if she was the only other person capable, then it made sense. “Sure, my car’s better for grocery shopping anyway.” Warner owned an old used minivan. It was far from anything special, but he paid for it himself so the man needed something he could actually afford after working part time after school for his entire senior year. “Ugh, this is dirty.” She complained when they got into his car. “Sorry, I haven’t cleaned because I wasn’t expecting to drive today.” He hadn’t needed to drive since arriving, which made him wonder if there was a need to have his car. Though Warner did see there could be some uses in the future. “So, how are you today?” “I’m not interested in talking.” She shut him down quickly. “The only reason why I’m asking is because my car has a flat tire. So this was the only option.” “Okay then.” He resumed driving as she constantly shifted in her seat. If he didn’t know better, then he’d think she needed to pee. But that wouldn’t make any sense as they had just left and she was more than free to use the bathroom as no one else was around. Their silent drive went by eventually and soon enough he pulled into the store’s parking lot. She quickly got out as if staying in his car was torture and led the way inside. Courtney chose to wear a tight pencil skirt with lavender blouse as they went shopping. He figured it was a bit formal for a couple of people going grocery shopping, but she clearly wanted to look presentable in public. “I just need to take a quick stop to the restrooms.” She said the moment they got inside, pointing to one of the carts. “Just go and I’ll meet you in the aisles.” So she did need to pee, he thought. A bit strange of her to not choose to use the toilet back at the dorm, but it wasn’t like the trip to the grocery was long either. So she must’ve figured it’d be more convenient this way. He went for the first aisle, trying to make it easy for her to find him, but the man didn’t have to wait long for her return. “That was quick.” He said having barely entered the aisle. “The ladies restrooms are closed.” She answered with irritation in her voice. “Broken apparently, so the men’s are open for both with some privacy divisions.” He was about to ask the obvious question, but she was quick to answer preemptively. “I’m not using the men’s, by the way.” “Okay.” He didn’t agree with her decision, but it was her bladder needs, not his. So the pair went on shopping, barely talking other than to discuss what would be a good idea to purchase. As they went along their errands, he would occasionally take peeks at her situation. Warner had taken notice her need to relieve herself was greater than usual. It was at the point where Courtney would be looking for a bathroom as soon as possible. When they walked, she would keep her thighs pressed together with each stepped. When they stood still to look at certain items, she would keep her legs crossed. Then, when she thought he wasn’t looking, she’s sneakily push on her crotch through that tight skirt in a futile attempt to hold back her filling bladder. Needless to say, it gave him a hard on to see such a beautiful girl, even if she was a bit mean, having to do battle against her bodily functions. In a sense, enjoying her being knocked down a peg. “Could we have picked a longer line?” She asked quietly, complaining about her pee need. He didn’t respond, only focusing on getting their items through the scanner and paid for as soon as possible. Warner might’ve enjoyed looking at her desperation, but that only made him guilty on how strange such enjoyment was. Not to mention it wasn’t like he wanted her to suffer or anything. Finally they got their things and began placing it in the car. She was of little help, now with the pressure requiring her to take more effort towards holding back her urine rather than filling up the car. Though her bladder was being filled up either way. “Are you sure you don’t want to make a quick stop to the restrooms?” He asked. “I know it’s the men’s, but-” “Are you insinuating I wouldn’t be able to hold it on the short trip back?” She replied, offended by his offer to help her. “I’m a fully grown adult. I think I know my body better than you.” “Okay, let’s go home.” He gave up trying to convince her. After all, she was right and it wasn’t like he was her dad or anything. It would be a bit weird for a guy who barely knew her to be deciding how her toilet relief should go. And the trip was short anyway. At least it should’ve been, but they hit bad traffic on the way back. Cars were so backed up that he barely drove a foot before having to stop yet again. “Huh, I guess we should’ve picked a better time to go shopping.” He commented, not thinking much of it. “R-right.” She now realized how dire her situation had become. “Whatever, we’ll be home eventually.” Courtney had become quieter, but still had some bark in her words towards him. She had her legs crossed, with one tightly over the top of the other while gently leaving her hands right above her crotch. She hadn’t yet grabbed herself openly. She didn’t want to given that he was in the car with her with a great view of the action. But the longer the seconds ticked and the longer they were trapped in his car, the less time her bladder had before it forced out its contents whether she liked it or not. Author's Note: I'm going to ask again for viewer ideas. There are a lot of ideas and I'm glad to do something that doesn't revolve around the single shared bathroom in the dorm being shared as the reason for desperation. Now Courtney doesn't have that excuse like the others did, wouldn't it just make the potential accident worse?
Sorry for leaving the cliffhanger there for a while. I honestly kind of forgot and was busy from writing. Chapter 8 Warner and Courtney were now stuck in near standstill traffic. He didn’t think rush hour would be a problem since the town’s population wasn’t large, as it was mainly a collage town. However, the small relative size did have a few issues here and there, especially if there was a car accident. Speaking of, Courtney was in the middle of trying to avoid one herself. Though hers was a manner of some liquids wishing to escape her full and filling bladder. She had her leg fidgeting up and down in a steady motion as they sat, not speaking to each other. The only sounds filling the air was the car radio playing some random pop song. She constant motions and hands tightly pressed down her crotch in a manner to stay subtle were distracting him. As he wasn’t actively driving, Warner couldn’t resist the temptation of his eyes wandering down to look at her. Courtney was evidently desperate to pee and his heart beat crazily on the thought of her possibly wetting herself. He couldn’t believe his luck that now he had witnessed every single one of his roommates in various states of desperation. But he didn’t want to say good luck, since why would he be enjoying a girl’s need to pee? That felt wrong, disgusting, and in this moment he didn’t want his car seats to get soaked with piss. “Um, are you going to be okay?” He asked as the minutes ticked by. “Do you get off on asking me that?” She replied hastily, her voice filled with irritation. “Huh? I was just worried…” He defended himself, but Warner realized how humiliating it was to have him acknowledge her need. She was a college student, and adult, yet here he was asking her this question like a parent would to their five year old. For a moment, he wished to say something to the effect of, ‘I hope you don’t make a mess in my car’, to rub in the humiliation after her bad attitude since the day they met. But Warner was sympathetic to her situation. “I can park over there by the curb.” “I’m not peeing outside.” She quickly cut him off, even though he wasn’t going to make that suggestion. “I mean, there’s a park we’re driving by.” He pointed out her side of the window. In her desperation, she didn’t even notice their surroundings. “Looks like there’s public restrooms here. So you know…” “I hate those kinds of bathrooms.” She bit her lips and closed her eyes to concentrate. “But fine, go ahead and pull over.” He could tell from her admission she was near her limit. So Warner found a gap in the sea of cars and was able to park themselves safely. Even though he could tell she was bursting, Courtney did her best to only slowly get out of the car. As if showing how desperate she really was to him would compound her growing embarrassment to him. Without saying anything, he would follow her along to the restrooms. “What are you doing?” She asked, annoying with her brisk pace. “I just wanted to take a quick rest stop for myself too.” He figured with their bad luck someone would be using the only bathroom when they got back. Warner didn’t need to go bad at all, but it didn’t hurt to play it safe. Though him playing it safe was pointless anyway once they reached the park’s only restrooms. “What do they mean out of order!?” She nearly yelled out. Courtney doubled down as she put both hands to tightly press on her crotch. The tight skirt she had on made it difficult to do the usual things one might do to hold back the flood of a bladder. “Unfortunately the pipes busted here too.” His poor choice of words aside, Warner was sad to see this. It meant she’d have to suffer more… Or perhaps have to find another way to relieve herself. “Come on.” She beckoned him. “Let’s just get back in the car and go home. I’ll just wait then.” Courtney’s speaking turned strange to him. She had difficult speaking as her body appeared to be taking more control. “Hey, you probably don’t want to hear this.” He could tell there was no way she’d make it back home dry. “Look, just find somewhere private to take care of your business, okay?” “Ew, how could you even say that?” She took great offense to his words. While he could agree that a man just telling a woman to drop her panties to piss in public was rude, to say the least. Warner knew it was the only option she truly had. “I’ll be honest, I don’t think you’ll make it back.” He pleaded with her, crossing the line by telling her that she was about to have an accident. “I won’t judge you, I’m sure there’s a good spot-” “No!” She told him off yet again. Courtney breathed heavily as she tried to tell him she was fine. “I can… Wait until we get back.” She spoke, struggling to stand up straight. “It’s… I mean, I’ll just…” The sound of water spattering the ground entered his ears. Warner’s eyes widened as he looked down to see the unimaginable. Courtney was having an accident. “A-ah.” She barely was able to speak as she looked down to see what she was doing. “I…” The piss ran down her legs as her tired pussy had enough of holding back the flood gates. Her bladder convulsed as it pushed out all her fluids forcibly out through her panties, which got soaked. Even her skirt caught some of the wetness as he saw a patch form in front and the way it ran down certainly meant it left its mark down the back. “I…” She continued to be speechless as Courtney shamefully was wetting herself. Slowly, the stream weakened as her bladder emptied itself. Beneath her feet were the obvious puddle showing to the world what she had just done. Then, after her legs were down having water run down, another part of her body felt water dropping. Courtney began to cry as the shame and humiliation of pissing herself as an adult in front of a man hit her. She covered her face with her hands as he just stood there, unsure of what to do. “Hey.” He said, trying to get her attention. “Just go ahead.” She said in response. “Huh?” It confused him. What was it that she expected him to do. “Don’t act dumb, go ahead and laugh.” She said. “Go and take pictures if you want. Not like I can stop you.” Courtney knew they’d have to go back together like this. So there was no way for her to hide this from him. “Go ahead and tell the rest of the girls so they can all make fun of him.” She continued to speak without showing her face to him. “I don’t know why they would…” He was aware of all their other incidents, so it would be odd to make fun of her for the same things. “I mean…” Then, it hit him. Courtney didn’t just have some mere accident because of their bathroom situation. They all agreed that part sucked, but it had nothing to do with right now. She just had an accident from her own decisions while out in public. Something much more humiliating with nothing to blame other than herself and some bad luck. Warner had figured out what she had in mind as well, but that didn’t change his mind. “It’s alright, I’m not going to tell anyone about this.” He placed a hand on her arm, bringing it down so he could see her crying face. “You won’t?” She was shocked to hear. “But, I’ve been-” “I don’t care.” He only felt sorry for her. There was no ounce of revenge in him because there was no way he’d bully someone for this. “Look, just take my jacket and wrap it around your waist. We’ll figure out how to hide it if anyone’s back at the dorm yet.” She took it and did as he asked. While it wasn’t the best way to hide an accident. One would have to be looking specifically there, which most wouldn’t think as they wouldn’t assume she just pissed herself. Courtney wiped off the tears as they went back to his car. “Thank you.” She quietly said, barely loud enough for him hear as they got in.
Chapter 9: Somehow in his short time here, Warner had seen all the girls go through some pissing mishaps. This also included one of them seeing him piss into a bottle. Not what most would expect their college experience to start off with, but maybe once they all got settled into their living situations, it wouldn’t be a problem for long. As he hung out alone in his room, as was usual, simply browsing the web on his laptop. A knock on the door got his attention. “Come in.” He said, turning to see Lorene opening the door. “You busy?” She asked with a laptop in her arms. “I was wondering if you wanted to watch a movie together?” “Sure.” He wasn’t doing anything interesting anyway and having an excuse to hang out with Lorene was always nice for him. Warner stood up, but she stopped him from going further. “Not in the main space.” She pointed to her laptop. “I was thinking we could just hang out here together and watch something on Netflix.” Watching something alone with her? He got nervous just thinking about it. “Like, on your bed? So it’s comfortable, you know.” “Yeah.” He went along with it simply. As much anxiety as it caused him, Warner had to calm himself so as not to make a mistake and look like a creep to her. All they were, were a couple of friends hanging out and watching a movie together. That was it. He neatly tucked his bed so that she could lay down on it, then laid besides her as she looked through a couple movies to put on. Warner couldn’t help but stare at this attractive girl besides him. While she didn’t have any standout points with her long brunette hair and slender body. It was not to call her anything but pretty. “I think I’ll do this one.” She said, choosing some random comedy. “I mean, it’s just something to put on, but we can talk, right?” He nodded his head in agreement. It wasn’t a film he was interested in, so he needed something to keep his mind steady with them tightly pressed due to his small college bed. “So is there anything you wanted to talk about?” She was the one who came into his room, so there must be something she wanted out of him. “Actually, I was in Courtney's room earlier today.” She began. “When I was in there, I noticed that your jacket was there too.” His heart raced upon her getting straight to the point. Hopefully she wouldn’t take it the wrong way. “I asked about it and she told me you were kind enough to lend to her when it was raining so she wouldn’t get wet.” “Oh yeah, that’s right.” Ironic that Courtney’s story was the complete opposite compared to the truth. The jacket was after she was already plenty wet as it was. Which was also the reason why he didn’t have it back yet as she promised to have it washed first before returning it as a means of thanks. “I’m glad the two of you are closer now.” It was no secret that Courtney was a hater of his when it came to living here. However after seeing him choose to protect her dignity and reputation. She realized he could be trusted. “But I hope you don’t forget who was nice to you first.” She gave him a cute smile, inching closer to him. “I do appreciate it a lot.” He responded. “It helped me get some confidence, knowing that not all of you were going to give me a hard time.” “Yeah.” She spoke quietly, putting her hand on his arm. “Anyway, could you move? I’m just going to take a quick bathroom break before this movie really gets going.” He obviously had no reason to stop her, so he moved aside and she left the room, still leaving the laptop running. He didn’t have to wait long for her to return, she was only gone for about a minute before returning. Warner scooted over on the bed to allow her on where he originally was as they resumed the movie. The pair began to pay more attention to what was going on the screen, but did continue some small talk. He could even say he was more comfortable with the arrangement as time went on, but eventually she switched the subject to one more intimate. “You know, I hope I don’t make things awkward between us.” She said, wanting to speak what was really on her mind. “I don’t know if you’re good with hints, but I think you’re kind of cute.” “Oh, um, thanks.” At least he didn’t have to concern himself on wondering if he was the one taking things too far. “I mean, I think you’re really pretty too.” He then fumbled a bit upon realizing that he should give her affirmation after her being kind enough to compliment him. “But, you know with everything it’s not like it’s easy to just go around dating.” She shuffled a bit, which he chalked up to nerves. “And I’m not looking for a relationship anyway. The last guy I was with cheated on me, so I don’t think I’m ready for anything serious right now.” “I’m sorry that happened to you.” He had no clue who would do that to someone like her. “But then, what are you looking for?” “For now, I think something casual.” She snuggled up to his body. Warner felt Lorene’s warmth spread over him. “And open, since I’m sure you’ve been talking to a lot of girls lately.” He certainly had, though Warner would disagree that any of those conversations were romantic. “We just started college, so it’s way too early to get committed right away.” “I can live with that.” When he first started, he didn’t even consider dating a girl to be a possibility. It certainly was not planned by Warner to go for anyone in particular. “Hmm, you’re a pretty reserved guy.” Lorene realized she needed to be the one to make the first move. So she moved closer to him, planting a quick peck on his cheek. They turned red from the embarrassment. “I hope you don’t think I’m lame, but I’ve never actually kissed a girl before.” He admitted. “In the hopes to not sound too bold, maybe you could teach me a thing or two?” “The way you say it makes it sound like you know what you’re doing.” She took his line as his attempt to bring them in for an intimate session. Which on one hand, she looked forward to. On the other she had another pressing concern she had done well to conceal from him thus far. This being her pending need to pee. While he had assumed she had gone during her short break, the truth was that the bathroom was occupied with another girl already in line during her short wait. The reason why Lorene didn’t want to simply wait her turn was feeling self-conscious he might assume her to be using the bathroom for a reason other than peeing. Upon returning she didn’t want to get up and leave too soon, as it would be strange to him after thinking she already peed earlier. So Lorene had put herself in a bad awkward situation for no other reason other than wanting to avoid any awkwardness. She crossed her legs subtly with her bladder now fuller than before as she mulled over the decision. As much as she needed to pee, this was also the perfect mood with him. If she left now, then there would be no way to recapture this moment and anything intimate would have to wait for another day. Author's Note: Obviously the tags already warned it, but I will mention the next chapter will have light sexual scenes.
Chapter 10 “You’re the one who knows more than me.” Said Warner as the pair quietly and awkwardly looked into each other’s eyes. She had grown distracted by her growing need while he was unsure of how to progress. “I’m sure you like guys who take some initiative, but I don’t even have a clue.” That’s fine.” She needed something to keep her mind off her bladder. While she had cuddle and make out sessions that lasted at least an hour back in high school. Her need to piss meant she needed to make sure to cut things short without making it seem to obvious. After completely unleashing a stream right in front of him. Lorene had grown a bit self-conscious about her toilet needs in front of him. She was in college now, so it would look bad for her if he got the wrong idea that she had issues with her bladder. That would go beyond just killing the mood and end any chances of them sharing a relationship in the future. Not to mention the bitter humiliating of a guy thinking she wasn’t properly potty trained. Without saying anything more, she leaned in closer to him, getting good contact into his chest. “You’re very warm.” She broke the silence after waiting for him to get antsy. Warner had never been with a girl like this, so it was easy to get him all hot and bothered. “It’s just cause you’re close.” He got embarrassed about it. Things weren’t aided for the man when he felt his little guy begin to stiffen up just from such contact with her Lorene. For whatever reason, he got nervous thinking she might get creeped out from him getting so excited over what was a fairly basic action. “Don’t get shy now.” She slid around, turning her back to him as the girl took his arm and wrapped it around her body. She could feel him down there through the thin fabric and without needing to see it she wasn’t disappointed either. Lorene smiled, but didn’t let him know her opinion on it. After all it would reflect poorly on her to put out too much when they hadn’t even gone on a date. Plus it would save for some interesting times in the future, especially since right now there was a more pressing need. “You don’t need to hold back. There’s no need to act like I’m sick or something. You can touch me, you know?” The girl encouraged him. Guys she knew normally tried to be the ones in control, so she had a bit of fun in turning the tables for once. Eventually he’d get some confidence where he would do things unprompted, so she wanted to enjoy it while it lasted. “Anywhere, I’m not gonna judge.” “Anywhere?” He repeated, taking a good look down her body. There was one part Warner had been fixated when the thought of getting intimate entered his mind. He only held back because it seemed a bit bold, but if she was okay with it for now… Without saying anything else, he slid his hand down and gently touched her pussy. This caught her off-guard as she felt her body tense up. Her need to piss suddenly increased greatly, but as much as she wished to tightly hold her crotch, she resisted the urge. “Ah!” She couldn’t help but audibly react to his touch. “C-careful, I’m a little sensitive.” Lorene tried to play it off so he wouldn’t be aware of her nearly pissing herself on his bed. She also couldn’t bear to tell him to stop after she told him he was free to experiment as a newbie. “Huh, so it’s more sensitive if someone else touches?” He said to himself, thinking about what if the shoe was on the other foot. While he masturbated perfectly fine on his own, having a girl like her give him a handjob, or something even more, did interest him. Knowing that he enjoyed pleasuring himself, Warner figured she might like it if he just teased her a bit. So he rubbed his fingers over her vagina with only thin cloth between them. It wasn’t just rubbing though and without thinking, he pressed right onto her bulging bladder. Lorene gasped as she felt a short, but strong stream gush out. Her mouth dropped in shock as she had suffered a small accident right in front of him. Fortunately it was only a small amount, but due to where his hand was, Warner felt the warm liquid wet his fingers. “I’m sorry, I…” She tried to explain herself, but her voice was unable to say anything honest about what she had just done. “Oh, you just…” He was about to say pee, but Warner stopped himself when thinking of the situation. “I guess you’re that type of girl. The type to squirt?” The man had seen this porn, but never in a real life situation. So he wasn’t sure how accurately it was depicted. Perhaps this was just how it actually was, he figured. “Uh… Yeah.” She took his misunderstanding to save herself from humiliation. Lorene quickly got up, now feeling the need with her bladder convulsing from the pressure. “Sorry, this is probably too far for you. I should get going.” The girl did her best to not squirm as she felt herself mere moments away from fully emptying her swolen bladder on his floor. “No, I’m sorry, I…” He attempted to try and save the moment. As Warner believed her sudden desire to leave was his fault entirely. “Sorry, bye.” Unable to wait any longer, she bolted out of his room. He sighed, burying his face into the pillow in disappointment as he figured he had just messed up his first proper experience. Meanwhile Lorene dashed straight to the only bathroom. She was thankful it was unoccupied this time as she rushed inside, slamming the door behind her. Then in one quick motion, she ripped down her pants, plopped herself onto the toilet and unleashed a torrent. It made a loud hiss as the strong flow hit the porcelain bowl with full force. “Ugh…” She covered her face with both hands as her body finally relaxed from her pending need. Her piss went on for nearly a minute as Lorene finally got her much needed relief. She pulled up her panties as she still sat to see them soaked from her involuntary leak. As glad as she was for him not to realize she had just pissed herself in front of him. She was worried how he might feel from her sudden departure. Maybe any chance of a relationship between them was over before it even began.
Author's Note: Sorry, I know it's been a real long time since the last update. Just that I don't really have time for this story anymore, so I can't promise consistent updates at all. Chapter 11 Warner found himself in a tough spot. Not anything urgent, but only that feeling of overwhelming disappointment as he sat idly watching some TV during some free time he had. It had been about a week since that fateful day with Lorene, where ever since then they would occasionally run into each other, say something quickly and then move on without any meaningful conversation. He knew something had gone wrong between them, but didn’t know what exactly. All he could figure was he did something wrong and it probably made her uncomfortable. So while it would’ve been nice to see more of her, his first proper encounter with a young woman came to a bitter end. “Warner, I bet you’re free tonight.” What brought his lack of fun to an end as Rosaline grabbed both his shoulders from behind. His entire body shivered as he avoided screaming from the fright she just gave him. “You should totally join me at this party happening across town.” “Why would I want to go?” He asked. “And why are you assuming I’m free tonight?” “Because you definitely are.” She spoke with confidence. “Something happened between you and Lorene, so things are real awkward. So I figured you’d want to live it up and forget about her.” “What? How do you know about that?” He never mentioned anything to anyone, as that would be embarrassing. So what has Lorene been talking about to them? “It’s pretty obvious. You two were probably the closest out of all of us, but all of a sudden you don’t talk.” She laughed. “I hope it’s not because you disappointed her down there.” “I’m not going if you’re going to insult me like that.” He returned to watching the show, where she hopped over the back of the couch to sit besides him. “Ah come on, I was just teasing you.” She said. “I think it would do you good to party for once. I’ll even talk smack about Lorene if it’ll make you feel better.” “Fine, I’ll go.” He relented. She wasn’t wrong about him needing something to take his mind off of Lorene. She was just another girl he failed to impress, so Warner knew he should try to enjoy his college life as he originally planned instead. “But don’t talk bad about her. I don’t hate Lorene.” Rosaline did a little cheer from him accepting her offer and soon enough, the man found himself at a college party for the first time. It was entirely one to forget about, if he could even remember it. Warner didn’t do much during the party as he would just awkwardly sit around with some water. He didn’t even drink any alcohol as the stuff just never sat well with him. Rosaline, on the other hand, had a great time getting drunk and dancing with a bunch of strangers while he just sat and watched. She put on some nice moves, or at least they looked about as good as someone who was wasted could with a body like hers. Unlike him, who wore something more reserved, Rosaline had one a short, tight skirt that barely hid away any semblance of decency. There were multiple occasions where it rode up high enough to expose the black thong she wore underneath. Finally, after what felt like forever to him, they left the party with her staggering about with the linger feelings of drunkenness. “Thanks for coming with me.” She said as they walked with her taking slow, but steady steps. “Having a guy with me means that it’s great for getting other guys from wanting to come home with me. You make a great fake boyfriend.” “Um, sure.” He wouldn’t agree on him being good at the job. A lot of other guys looked at him weird, probably wondering why he just sat back most of the time and didn’t actually interact with the girl until right at the end. “Crap, I should’ve went before we left.” She realized a growing need after a night of consuming copious amounts of alcohol that it would all end up somewhere. “You’ll make it back fine, right?” He asked, feeling himself getting stiff down where it mattered. Even though she couldn’t see it, he cursed himself for getting this way upon hearing something like a girl announcing her desperate need to relieve her bladder. Shame washed down his body as they continued to talk. “Definitely not.” She had a hand tightly grasped over her crotch. Doing so caused the skirt to ride up, barely covering the bottom parts of her butt cheeks. They were crossing the school campus at this point in time, but as it was late at night, everywhere was closed. So there were no toilets open for her to use. “I’ll just go over there.” She pointed over to a section that had grass. “That way, no one’s going to know I did anything.” “Are you sure?” They were fairly exposed publicly in this area. Fortunately it was a part that not surveyed by any security cameras, but his heart raced for both the fact she was about to pop another squat and that they could easily be caught. “I’m gonna seriously piss myself if I don’t.” She slowly hobbled over from her drunken state and dire need. “Come here, stay close to me.” This was another thing he was caught off guard by. “Don’t you need some privacy?” He followed her, but only to ask this question. “Too late for that.” She giggled, as if this were no big deal. Sure, she had already popped a squat in front of him before, but he wondered if now was due to her being drunk. If so, then he only felt more guilty that he’d be taking advantage of her in this state. “Can you help me stay up? I can barely stand, let along squat right now.” Rosaline didn’t wait for him to answer as she hiked up her skirt and pulled down her panties. The girl’s bare bottom was laid out for anyone to see as even he couldn’t resist the temptation of catching a glimpse. She took her underwear off one leg, having it hanging on the other as she simply plopped herself down in a sitting position on the grass. “Ahh, finally.” Forgetting that she asked him to help her squat, she found relief as a powerful stream of piss shot out, arcing up into the air and landing quietly onto the grass. It glistened thanks to the light lamps that still provided visibility during the late night. Warner was in awe to be able to see a girl’s piss flying the way it did. She wasn’t kidding about her desperate need. He was so mesmerized, that he ended up staring at it for way longer. Only upon realizing this after about 20 seconds did he avert his gaze. After about a minute, her stream died down and the subtle sound of it landing on the grass faded away with her taking a deep sigh. “Phew, now I’ve really broken the seal.” She didn’t sound the least bit embarrassed about her display. If anything, Rosaline sounded proud for having done this in front of him. She got up slowly, but got into that squatting position she had original planned for and shook her shapely ass to make some attempt to dry herself. Then she stood up and pulled her underwear back up to cover herself. What she said next surprised him as the girl turned to him with a mischievous smile on her face. “So, did you like what you saw?”
This is another story, set in the same universe as another story I posted in here called "I Wet Myself for Mistress Columbia". The plot is, a horny degenerate psychopath decides to get cute, loses her diaper virginity, has a huge accident, and gets Mommied. There is a lot of sexually explicit stuff in this one, as well as lots of vulgar language. There are multiple instances of wetting and masturbation, and one instance of diaper wetting and messing. You've been warned! Here is the narrator, and the main character of this one- Seliyne. It's not TOTALLY accurate, but this is a commission of a game character that I based her on. Mist is also in this one, as well. She's kind of the main character of the whole universe, I guess. The Diapering of the Shrew I'm gonna tell you guys an embarrassing story. Normally, I wouldn't tell a damn soul about something like this. It's, you know, really embarrassing. But, after that experience... I've come to realize that it feels kind of good, to fess up about something like this. It's hot, you know. I've got a reputation to protect and all that, but honestly, who the hell are you gonna tell? You'd out yourself as being a nasty little pervert that gets into shit like this, anyhow. I bet you got your dick in your hand right now, reading this paragraph, thinking you're gonna beat off to some filthy, degenerate shit, huh? Well, you're right. It's gonna be a pretty nasty story. I'm gonna tell you the story of the time I got caught by my boss. Not caught masturbating, I mean. That sort of shit happens all the time. Nah, I'm not embarrassed about that. I don't even stop, half the time. It's their fault for walking in on me. I have a door, they have a fist, and hopefully now they've got an inkling to fucking knock next time. Though, one time, one of my coworkers... roommates, allies- whatever. Anyway, one time she just came in and screwed me. I was totally blown away- She always struck me as a real ice cold bitch, all business, no play, fuckin' cobwebs in her vagina. I didn't find any cobwebs when I checked in there with my tongue, though. Yeah, I'm basically horny as fuck. Indulgent, shameless, violent- you know the type. I'm the Vice-Lieutenant of the Enforcement branch of Chimera, you may have heard of it- we basically conquered a third of the galaxy. Killing's good business. It's a good job, you know. I get to indulge in all kinds of violent desires. You never work a day in your life if you love your job, right? Money's decent, too. Oh, my name- Seliyne, that's pronounced "Sell-een", like that one singer. People call me Seli, usually. I'm barely over five feet tall, I got a chest like a pre-teen boy. I'm the wiry, quick type- agile and ruthless. I pride myself on that. I'm also red all over. Cliff notes version here; I'm a Luciferian. Reddish skin, sharp little brow ridges- We basically look like demons. That's because, technically, we are demons. Long, long time ago, back when your planet was still in it's dark ages, we were a fairly sizable Empire, and we were at war with Seraphs. Serpahs look pretty, have wings, can manipulate the mind to produce illusions, and are totally fucking full of themselves. A few squabbles over your primitive little planet, they tricked dumb humans into worshipping them, working for them. It set the foundation for your early era religions. Demons, angels, that stuff. Truth is, we were just aliens the whole time. I wasn't in that war, though. That was like, millennia ago. I'm only 23. I just know what I read in the history books. Humans run the show now, and you see maybe one, two Luciferians for every like, hundred thousand humans or some shit. I'm also technically a Psion. This is a real big secret, so keep quiet about it. The Psionic order really doesn't like non-human Psions, so I never joined the order, never got any training with my powers. I just had to teach myself. I developed my own style of killing with my powers. It works pretty well for me, but I can't really hold a candle to someone who's gotten actual training, like my boss. I'm what they call a "Dusk Psion", I can manipulate gravity. It's harder than it seems. I can't do shit like, make singularities, or pull meteors out of space like some of the top dogs can- but I can make myself lighter and heavier at will. It's real handy for acrobatics. They say that Dusk Psions are naturally depraved. Something about the glands in the brain that let us use our powers having an affect on our psychology, I guess. This might explain my nature, but I think I'd probably be like this no matter what. I like to drink, fight, fuck. I do some real freaky sex shit. Guys, girls- whatever. I even fucked an android once. I can't seem to get enough of it, so I masturbate a lot, too. I've tried almost every fetish you can think of, but my favorite is toilet stuff. You know, piss and all that. That's what I was doing, when we start this story. I've got my usual set up going on- towels under my desk chair, plastic on the chair itself, a half-dozen porn channels up on my view screen. I've been holding it awhile, and I know I'm gonna pop. The pangs of pain from my lower abdomen, the sweat on my brow. I can feel the hair on the back of my neck starting to rise. "Hnnn... Nnnn... Hnnn..." I'm moaning, bouncing my knees like I'm impatiently waiting for something. I've got my vibrating wand, the "Cum-maker 5000" in my hand, sliding it down, pushing on my clit through my pants. It's about to happen. "Ah... ahhhhh... ah-- nnnn!!" I can't hold it anymore. It starts to trickle out, then gushes though the fabric of my panties in a solid stream. The wand's making pee splatter all over my thighs. "Ooooh, ohh, ooooohhh..." I'm moaning. I throw my head back, losing myself in it. I can feel it spreading across my ass, soaking into my pants. I can hear it running off the edge of my chair, dripping down on the towels underneath. As I totally drench myself, the wand brings me to a thunderous climax- you know, I'm moaning and screaming super loud. My "Roommates" can definitely hear me, but I have never, ever given a shit about that. I let arms drop down to my sides, the wand clattering to the floor as I drop it. I've got this contented, almost smug expression of pleasure and relief on my face. I squirm a bit, feeling my piss splash around on my seat, under my butt. Often times, I'll just stay this way for awhile. I like to be disgusting, sometimes. It brings me a sort of pleasure that's different- definitely sexual, but of a more perverse nature. I sit up and lean forward, rubbing and squeezing my wet pants idly, going to click off the porn channels- when something catches my eye. This is the embarrassing part. It's an advertisement for diapers. You know, the fetish kind of diapers. I don't typically indulge in them, it's not quite my thing. But these ones... they're adorable. They're all bright, pink, girly. They're patterned with flowers. My mouth starts to slowly fall open as I stare at them awhile. Before I even realize it, I'm waving my hand and flicking two fingers over the ad- and just like that, I bought them. Advertising is real fucked up stuff, honestly. You just start clicking and buying before your brain cells fire. I want those diapers more than anything, right now. It's not because of the fetish, really- it's because of the cuteness. This is my big secret, my real, real shameful secret- psychopathic, violent, horny, filthy Seli likes to be cute, sometimes. Yeah, I like to wear poofy, colorful little dresses, lacy stockings, frilly sleeves, alright? I'll even pose in front of the mirror- sometimes I even do those god-awful cutesy little dances you see all over the Galacta-cast. I already know exactly what outfit I'm gonna wear those diapers with. I can see it in my mind, now- those garish, pink poofy garments on my bottom, sticking out from underneath the shortest mini-skirt you've ever seen. I can see the shy, embarrassed look I'll make when I wet myself in them. I can even see the pout on my lips, the forced tears running down my cheeks, the expression of shame when I shit myself in these gay-ass, flowery little diapers. "I'm gonna cum so goddamn hard," I say to myself. I'm broken out of my trance by a sharp rap at my door. "Thirty minutes until deployment. Get yourself ready. And take a shower, will you? I can smell you through this door!" Columbia Jacosta, of course. One of my 'coworkers'. "Fuck off, Jacosta!" I sneer and give the middle finger to the door, as if she can see me. I never liked her. Arrogant, prissy cunt. Thinks she's so damn smart, so damn special. The single redeeming quality of hers, other than that tight ass she's got, is the fact that she likes to piss on me sometimes. I set out to getting the room cleaned up- I want everything to be tidy for my special dress-up time, once I get back from the mission. --- The Initalizer. That's what Mist named her ship. Kind of a stupid name, if you ask me- I think she was just trying to come up with something that sounded cool. When I asked about it, she gave me some shit about this ship being the initial incision that will kill the Psionic Empire with a million cuts. That's the REAL purpose of Chimera. The foundation touts all this bullshit about liberation, new opportunity, the unshackling of chains, but really, this is all just about deposing the power. Confusing, I know, since Mist is a Psion too. It's like a revenge thing. Don't think too hard about it. Anyway, that's the name of the ship. We all basically live here, the six top dogs of the Chimera Foundation, plus the boss, Mist. It's not too bad of a place. Nothing fancy, not too roomy, but it isn't cramped. The halls and floors are all winding, though, and it's real easy to get lost if you're drunk. I got put in a room near the sublight engines. They're noisy, but I'm used to it by now. I had originally chosen a room near the starboard bow, but I guess they got tired of hearing me screaming at the monitors when I'm losing in a game, or cumming loudly and violently, so they made me move. Upside to this room in the back is that it's got a washroom connected directly to it. This comes in real handy, as you may have guessed, when you've got a fetish for peeing everywhere. First thing I do is toss my swords at the wall. I curl my finger and use a little space magic, and they gently float themselves right onto the magnetic docks built into the wall plaque. I step out of my carbo-steel plated combat boots, kick them towards the other wall. I take a deep breath in, close my eyes, and let it out through my nostrils, relaxing and decompressing my body. As I'm exhaling, I let go of my bladder, and piss myself. This is sort of a ritual for me- I don't do it every time, but I usually do. There's something incredible about the sensation, after getting done chopping heads. I'm still hopped up on all that adrenaline and bloodlust, and when I do this, it all sort of just... comes out of me. It all came out of my bladder, too. It's noisy, splashing and splattering on the floor between my legs, running down my tights into my socks. It's hot and wet across my lap, down the inside of my legs. "Aaahhhh..." A little sigh of relief escapes me, and once I finish, I flick my hand to drag a towel over the puddle with my powers, and then go sit right in front of my console, plopping my wet ass into the seat like it's not a big deal. I giggle to myself at the way my wet butt squelches in the fake leather. My eye is drawn to the counter in the corner of the room that has my Microportal on it. Brief explanation: Microportals are space mailboxes. You order something on the Galacta-cast, you punch in your portal code, they pack it up for you, and drop the item through your portal. Big things have to be shipped still, though. Now, you may be wondering, "What's to stop someone from using your portal code to break into your room?" The answer is nothing. I killed a man this way once, back when I was a regular run of the mill Mercenary. Most people wouldn't fit through a microportal, though. I'm just that small. I had almost completely forgotten about what I ordered before I got sent out to fuck around and wreak some havoc. They were here. The packaging was discreet, but from the pink color and the flowers, I knew exactly what it was. "Fuckin' poggers," I say to myself as I hop out of my seat and rip open the packaging, running my fingers over the crinkly plastic backing. I pinch the padding, just to see what it felt like. I looked down at my pee-soaked leggings with a little frown, feeling like I sort of wasted that one, but the prep work I was gonna have to do, I'd be ready to go again in no time. One cleaned-up piss puddle and a bottom half shower later, I was ready to start dressing up. I tousled my hair with a towel, threw it haphazardly at the laundry chute, and pulled one of the diapers out of the box. I unfolded it, laid it on the bed, and stared at it like a damn retard. A flick of my wrist dragged one of my viewscreens over, and after searching "How to diaper" "How to diaper adult" "How to WEAR dieper adult" "What the fuck is diaper tape" "Cute Twink Boys in diapers" and a few other unimportant things, I finally figured out how to go about the process. Unfortunately, I fucked it up the first time, but I still had plenty left. Eventually, I got it right. I ran my palm over the puffy front of the humiliatingly cute diaper I was wearing. I kneaded my fingers into it, pushed the padding against my pussy. I was in love. "Why the fuck did I take so long to try these things?" I asked myself, sliding off my bed and onto my feet, to have a look at myself in the mirror. I was totally awed at how... CUTE, I looked. Completely nude, save for the flashy pink diaper- the light tone of it contrasted wonderfully with my ruby red skin. I turned on my heel, looking over my shoulder so I could get a glance at my padded butt. My cheeks were already red, but if they could, they would have gotten redder. "C-... Cute..." I damn near whispered to myself. I felt like a princess. For a few good minutes I just pranced and twirled around, giggling like a child. My head felt light, tingly. "Cute. I'm cute. Cute diaper baby Seli. Mm." I had not even hour-old memories of literally setting a man on fire and Psionic kicking him into his allies, and here I was fawning and cooing over a god damn diaper. I pulled my lower lip down with my index finger, staring at myself in the mirror and trying to look as head-empty as possible. "Widdle baby Seli needs her diapers!" I taunted myself, as if I were speaking to another person. "I need my diapers in case I have an accident!" This was when I remembered that diapers were originally intended for going to the bathroom in. I was thrilled about this- I squatted down, clenched my fists, and tried to soil myself. I stopped short, though- "No- I'm being impatient," I murmured. "Everything in it's right time." It was time to begin the method. First, the intake of water, and maybe a few shots to take the edge off the nervousness. Then, a few medications that I borrowed permanently from Columbia's Medlab without asking (Fuck you, Jocasta) that help make things a little bit more, mmm, 'difficult to control', shall we say. Now, it was time to dress up. I had a number of cute clothes hidden in a secret drawer underneath a box that's behind some spare ship parts. Don't tell anyone where I keep my stash. Today, I'm going with the frilly white dress. It has a big pink ribbon on the front, gold tassels, lace patterns, and a matching skirt that was so short it might as well have just been a tutu. (I also have a tutu.) I also wore white flat slippers, with ribbons that went up my legs. My hair is a little short, but it's long enough that I can pull it into two tiny pig tails on the sides. Next comes the pink lipstick, the concealer, the eye shadow, the mascara... I've done this enough times that it doesn't take too long, by now. Once everything was done, I went back to my bedroom mirror to look at myself. My mouth hung open just a bit, and I simply stared. I was adorable. This, the whole thing... with this crinkly, big, obvious diaper on my butt, it was all so much better than I could have imagined. I was so excited I peed a little bit. "Oop! Not yet, sweetie~" I chided my own urethra, rubbing my diaper against my crotch. At this point, I'm starting to feel a little desperate. I put it out of my mind- for this one, I don't want to have any control. I twist and turn in the mirror, making cute faces, putting my fingers up in a V, sucking playfully on my thumb. After preening for awhile, I turn to head back to my lovely fake leather seat and distract myself with games until I get more desperate, when I hear the hydraulic hiss of the door behind me. The color drains out of my face, leaving my cheeks as pink as the shade of my diaper. You remember when I said that I got caught by my boss? This was it. "Seli," Mist said with that creepy-ass, emotionally dead tone of voice that she always had. She was looking down at a datapad, so I had just enough time to get behind my chair. She might see me in this ridiculous get up, but she wasn't seeing that diaper, so help me. "I need your after-battle report--" It may have been the very first time in my life I had ever seen Mist stunned. Well, she always wears that freaky helmet and full-body suit, so I can't really say I've ever ACTUALLY seen Mist at all. Anyway, the way she stared at me from behind that black visor saying absolutely nothing communicated more emotion than I would have seen if I could actually see her face. Meanwhile, I looked like a fucking crack addict, with my eyes wide open like that. "GET THE FUCK OUT!!" I screamed at her. "Well," She replied, frustratingly cool and collected. She clipped her datapad to her belt, and went to turn around. "It seems that you are a girl, after all. I'll speak to you later." I reached behind me and picked up an empty beer can, chucking it at her in a rage. "DON'T YOU FUCKING KNOW HOW TO KNOCK?" I continued to berate her as the beer can bounced harmlessly off her reinforced carbon plastic helmet. It is frustratingly impossible to get a rise out of her, so she just ignores me and goes on her way. Mortified, I slump down and sit in my seat, and my diaper crinkles audibly as I fall on it. Mist stops. I'm about to cry, but I'm holding it back- bad enough that I got seen in this gay ass skirt, I can't let them know I CRY too. I do cry sometimes, it's true. I'm not made of steel or anything. I'm rubbing my eyes with both hands, acting like I'm just frustrated, when I realize I haven't heard her leave yet. "What was that sound?" the boss asks. I drop my hands and put them in my lap, tugging the tiny skirt down. She can't see it if I'm sitting on it, right? "W- what sound?" I lie. I hear my door shut, but she didn't leave. A cold sweat is beading on the back of my neck, and I'm starting to feel a twisting in my gut that could either be fear, anxiety, or bathroom desperation. "Why don't you leave me the FUCK alone!?" I scowled back at her, and with a foomp, I was effortlessly lifted up in the air. I squealed with shock and tugged my skirt down in vain. I'd wondered about this kind of situation, whether I could beat Mist in a fight- But I don't think I could do it without my weapons. I mean shit, she's got actual academy training. She's basically a Jedi, and I'm a cracked out adrenaline junkie that can do flips. "Ah, I see. That's what that sound was," the cruel and unusual bitch taunted me, reaching up and prodding my diapers with a finger. "I see now that not only are you a girl, but a little girl at that." The rollercoaster of emotions I was experiencing had just left the tracks and crashed, like when you build a shitty coaster on Rollercoaster Tycoon. I bit my lower lip and screwed up my face, but I couldn't hold it back anymore. "I- h--h-- hate--" I stammered miserably, tears starting to streak down my cheeks. "Y- you..." But it didn't matter if I hated her, or if I said anything at all. I was defeated, here. There was no way out, no going back, no going forward. I got floated back down, and to my astonishment, I was gently shushed. "A crybaby little girl, too? Isn't that endearing." I sniffled and tried to get myself back into my usual aloof and shameless frame of mind, but I couldn't. Mist lowered me down right in front of her, and reached up to rub away my tears with her thumb. It was at this point that I really hated my shortness- she seemed like a giant in comparison, the way I had to look up at her. "Now, now. There's no need to be sad," She cooed to me. Her voice sounded sweet and motherly to me, even if it was still dead and emotionless. Maybe I was in a state of shock, or just desperate for some kind of approval, but I enjoyed it. I felt... so vulnerable. This was a new feeling, something I hadn't experienced before during my dalliances with cuteness. "I won't share your adorable little secret. You might not be aware, but I happen to be very good at keeping secrets." This much I knew for certain- nobody even knew what this bitch looked like. I felt like I could trust her. I wanted to be comforted. Words and logic were sort of failing me, but it was like she knew exactly what I wanted, and invited me into her arms. I buried my face in her breasts- I was always envious of those perfect titties Mist had. Even trapped inside of that suit, they still felt soft to me. "It is about time that you realized you needed these," she gently teased me, reaching back and patting my diapered bottom condescendingly. "Did you think I hadn't noticed how much laundry you go through?" My voice was muffled, but I managed to sheepishly reply "...No...", starting to accept my fate. Cute. I was being cute, babyish, and sweet- and I was doing it in front of a person. In front of my BOSS, of all people. How did she know how to do this, how to treat me like this? Why did I suddenly feel all okay with what was going on? Just as I was sorting these emotions, I felt that tremor in my belly. My knees unconsciously pinched together. I didn't have much time left. I ought to have been far too ashamed to do THAT in front of her, but... A little groan escaped me, and I wet a little bit. "My," my tormentor turned caretaker commented dryly. "I see a little girl who's going to have an accident. You can't make it to the washroom? It's just right there." This inspired me, for some reason, even though I had put them on to use them in the first place. I wanted to make it! Or try to make it, anyway. I wanted to impress her, so I took a few bumbling steps towards the washroom, but a cramp froze me in my tracks. I was really sweating now- this was gonna be a bad one. I leaked a little again- at this point, I typically know I'm past the point of no return. But Mist, she stepped up behind me, put her gloved hands on my hips tenderly. "Just give up," She whispered to me. This was so much more different than I had expected. Typically it's simple, I groan and writhe, I lose control, I squirm in my filth, make myself cum a few times, and then I'm done. Simple and clean- well, figuratively clean. This time, when I heard those words, I experienced a sort of... sinking sensation, in my head. I felt comfortable, warm... free, in a way. I obeyed, and proceeded to massively wet and soil my diapers. I just... lost control. I no longer felt like I NEEDED control. I started by just gushing piss, relaxing and wetting myself. It felt so wonderfully warm, and I could feel it spread all over my crotch. I could feel my diaper swelling up, forcing my legs apart. My legs quaked, and I dipped down a little bit, and the rest came, too. It was filthy, like I expected- totally uncontrollable. All kinds of disgusting noises came from my backside. I could feel a flush of heat in my cheeks. I felt dirty, and usually when I feel dirty, it turns me on- but not this time. I was mostly just astounded- I kept looking down because I couldn't believe that I was having this kind of total loss of control, but everything was... contained. Suddenly I felt weak. I felt this rush of blood to my head, and I wobbled and began to fall backwards. But she was there... she caught me. "I suppose you do need those diapers after all. Fascinating. In such a short time, you've become an adorable, stinky little baby. Is it everything you had hoped for?" She asked, but I wasn't really listening. I was enraptured by this feeling- I felt utterly filthy, but it also felt incredible. I had to see. Once I found my feet again, I waddled over to the bedroom mirror, to look at myself. My cute pink diapers were swollen from my accident. The bulge on my bottom was enormous, clearly visible. I had to touch it- tracing my fingertips over it. "C-- cute..." I muttered to myself again. Somehow, being in a dirty, soiled diaper made the whole outfit look even cuter. I couldn't help but to suck on the tip of my finger, and stare obsessively into the mirror, like that stupid-ass dude who died from staring at his own reflection for too long. "Very cute," Mist concurred, coming to stand behind me. My knees felt weak again, and I slowly slid down until I was sitting on the floor with my knees bent, right in my accident. "Is it time for a change, little one?" She asked me, and I shook my head. No, I was enjoying this. "Ah, I see. You want to be a stinky diaper baby, yes?" I giggled, and although I could hear my own voice, it felt as if it were very far away. "Y-yea... I wanna just... mm..." I unconsciously rocked back and forth, making the whole thing worse. "How... are you doing all this sh... shi..." The word wouldn't come out. I just couldn't say it, I was incapable of swearing for some reason, which is sort of like a fish being incapable of swimming. "I have dabbled in such a thing before, with a previous lover, long ago. Allow me to show you some more..." Mist hooked one of her arms under mine, and lifted me up, guiding me over to my bed. She plucked my vibrating wand out of my drawer of sex toys like she had always known it was there, and pushed it against my soaked diaper. It wasn't nearly as intense as usual, but eventually, she brought me to climax with it. It took some coercing, as I had started to become more bratty and sullen, but she eventually got me into a clean diaper, too. I had no idea how long it had been, but eventually I was calmed and soothed, and I ended up sitting in her lap, facing her and resting my head on her chest, eyes glazed over and ready for a nap. "When you are feeling this urge," Mommy Mist cooed to me, rubbing my back to keep me relaxed, "You may come to my quarters. I still have many cute little things that would be perfect for you." I murmured some kind of understanding in response, turning my head the other way and bringing my thumb into my mouth. As I closed my eyes, I was vaguely aware of a not-at-all urgent need to pee. Normally I could hold it, but I was compelled to just let go, and wet my diapers again. The hissing sound of my pee against the padding was almost like a soothing white noise. "Silly, wet little girl," Mist teased me- but I was already long gone, and fast asleep.
Welcome to my first ever double banger! I usually try to make stories that build socially and then end in desperation and wetting, but I decided one that's exclusively about these situations would be welcome! The only two who won't be participating in the desperation and wetting elements are Damien and Travis. These two are also in my ongoing series Roxy - Friend Turned Family where an animalized human is discovered in the woods and struggles to discover what she is, where her abilities come from, and how to help those around her. Note that Damien and Travis' descriptions and personalities are copy-pasted from Roxy - Friend Turned Family. Let's meet our troublesome duo before the real story begins! Damien is a tall 26 year old man that lives in the city. He works on his sportscar and loves driving fast. He stands 5'11", often sporting black Dickies cargo jeans, a blue Summit Racing Equipment shirt and a white-on-gray hat with the 3RK logo on the front. He has blue eyes, brown hair parted high and swished over to the right, as well as black plastic glasses with blue accents. His car of choice is a 2004 Audi TT Roadster. The turbo charged, all-wheel-drive convertible captured his heart after the first test drive! At 30 years old, Travis stood at at 6' 5" and was incredibly muscular! He featured a rather square face with green eyes and a partial beard. The man was a fitness nut, having become a manager at a local gym. His broad shoulders held onto long arms packed with muscle. You couldn't see it under his shirt, but he had a rather visible eight-pack. His chest was large and wide, as was his stomach and muscular legs. Everything about this man's figure was turned up to 11. Story begins here! This was shaping up to be a wonderful evening for the troublesome duo! They'd both secured dates with TOTAL HOTTIES that would start early in the afternoon and continue on through midnight! Both men were so deeply involved with their hobbies and passions that they put that on their profiles, narrowing their searches down to people who are into the same things. They'd ended up with Kristen and Bailey, two young and beautiful girls looking for a fun night! At only 1:00 in the afternoon, Damien left to go pick up his date! At a current 75 degrees and a high of 82, it was perfect weather for Damien to put his convertible top down! He'd spent the previous day doing touch ups to the polish on his baby, and she currently shined like a diamond! He'd stored extra water bottles in a compartment behind the cupholders, those would be useful later! Travis did the same. His Lincoln Town car was also a convertible, and it had space for some more goodies than just water bottles! He had some real fun planned! At about 1:45, Damien reached his destination. He texted Kristen that he was there and honked his horn once. He was only waiting for a moment before she stepped out of her apartment. Damien got out of his car and greeted his new favorite person on the planet! Kristen was a 24 year old racecar driver who loved the challenges of the back roads during rain and snow! A perfect fit for Damien! As the duo exchanged pleasantries, they naturally checked each other out. Kristen couldn't help but notice how perfectly in shape Damien was! At 170lbs, Damien was exactly where he wanted to be! Kristen on the other hand, she was even more perfect! At 5' 5" and 145lbs, she was also exactly where she wanted to be! Her C cup breasts perfectly filled her light blue party dress! Her perfect butt also filled the lower portion of her dress perfectly! The thin fabric swayed as she walked, creating a truly mesmerizing effect! Her blue eyes and brown hair only added to her perfect figure! She was even more beautiful than she was in the pictures online! Damien was going to have the time of his life! At roughly 1:50, Travis reached his destination. He texted his date that he was there and also was not kept waiting. Out of the front door came Bailey, a 27 year old daughter of a gym owner! She often helped at the gym that her father owned and she liked it so much that she'd asked her father to hire her! Naturally, she was now the manager directly under her father! As the two exchanged pleasantries, they checked each other out as well. At 5' 2", Bailey wasn't too tall, but she had everything where it was needed. Her DD cup breasts meant she had to have a party dress made to fit her, and man did the light blue dress do just that! It also did its best to cover her large butt, which was proportional to her DD size breasts! Her brown eyes and black hair added to the look she had going on, making her even better looking than the pictures online! Travis was truly going to have the time of his life! Both men texted each other that they'd pickup up their dates and were ready to head to the lake! Both couples departed with their convertible tops open, with both girls enjoying the weather on the way there. With it being slightly warm and no clouds in the sky, both men offered a water bottle to their dates. Of course, both girls drank it over the course of the ride to the lake. Damien and Kristen arrived first. They got out, stretched, and claimed a picnic table by the swan-shaped paddle boats. They'd began talking about themselves, what they like to do, and what they'd do for the rest of the day! The afternoon fun was to be had at the lake, while the night fun would be had at the club! A few minutes later, Travis and Bailey pulled up. The couple claimed a picnic table next to Damien and his date. They also began talking about whatever came to mind, and went over the plan for the night. Both Damien and Travis purposely withheld the other plans they had... 😉 After about half an hour of chatting and getting a good understanding of what everyone liked to do, both couples got their swimwear out of their cars and got changed in the nearby locker rooms. You see, there was a wonderful secret about this lakeside park... There were no bathrooms in the locker rooms! The only bathroom (yes, singular) was attached to the pavilion on the far side of the park. You could barely even see the pavilion from the lake, and there were no signs for the bathrooms, so both girls had to get changed into their bikinis and come back to their dates without a bathroom break. Damien and Travis packed a late lunch and a couple water bottles into picnic baskets which they placed in the swan boats. Greeting their dates, the duo showed their girls to the boats and both couples paddled out to the center of the lake. Now comes the fun part! They all four stood up on their swans and dove into the lake! Naturally, the muscular men were the first to make it back to the surface, with the girls only a few seconds behind. The two couples swam a small distance away from each other and began a game of splash ball, followed by a foam frizbee. After about an hour of swimming and goofing off, they'd all returned to their swans and began eating their late lunches. Naturally, everyone had worked up a hunger and a thirst. Even though they still hadn't gone to the bathroom, both girls went ahead and had their water bottles over the course of the next 20 minutes. After finishing lunch, the group retreated to the shore and reattached the swans to the pier before changing back into their good clothes. "There has to be a toilet in here somewhere. Who's ever heard of a locker room without a toilet?" Said Bailey, doing a lap around the locker room. Kristen helped her look, but both came up empty. They just stood there, angry at who on earth designed a locker room with changing booths and showers but no toilets! Damien and Travis simply peed in the showers, then ran the water for a moment to "flush" the showers so they wouldn't smell. Once out of the locker rooms, Damien and Travis packed their picnic baskets away and waited for their dates to return. "Maybe we should just ask." Said Kristen, upset that she was now reaching the limit of how much she could hold without showing her desperation. "Yeah, can't hurt anything. Besides, I gotta go pretty bad too." Replied Bailey, also consciously stopping herself from showing her desperation. The two girls came out of the locker rooms with their bikinis and placed them back in their bags. Kristen was the one to ask. "Hey Damien, where are the restrooms around here?" "Yeah, about that. Travis and I have a bet going. Whoever can hold it the longest gets $100! Loser gets $50, so it's worth your effort even if you don't win!" Said Damien, grinning like an idiot as he waved his $150 around in front of the girls! "What?" Replied an angry Bailey. "Simple. Whoever bursts first gets $50. The other gets $100. You're free to use the restroom at the pavilion if you'd like, but that will be considered a forfeit and you we'll cut your prize in half." Spoke Travis, using his booming voice to make sure the girls understand what's going on here. "So it's just a holding contest with a prize?" Asked Kristen. "Yep. That's all there is to it." Replied Travis. "Awesome! This'll be the easiest $100 I've ever made!" Screamed Bailey, jumping with joy! "In your dreams! That's my prize money, just you wait!" Yelled Kristen, taking one of her signature stances and pointing her live little finger at Bailey! And wait they did... Over the next hour, both girls grew considerably desperate for the toilet. Neither could sit still anymore. "Hey, if I were to... Go in the grass... Would I still get my $50?" Asked Kristen, her hands burried in her crotch! She was lifting one leg at a time, keeping her knees together, and her hips swayed from side to side! All this while she was slightly bent forward, a look of pure desperation on her face! Her modest size breasts were caught between her arms, squished together and protruding outwards! They bounced every time she swayed! "Why wouldn't you? You'd lose the contest of course, but you'll still get your money." Replied Damien. "Ready to give up over there?" Teased Bailey, a hand tugging at the end of her dress while she switched from foot to foot and swayed her hips side to side. Her large breasts bounced about as she bobbed, making for quite the show! "No, not yet. I just don't wanna ruin my dress." Replied Kristen, holding back a humongous wave of desperation! "Good! It'd be rather pathetic if you burst so soon!" Teased Bailey, desperately holding back the urge to jam her hands into her crotch! Another 10 minutes went by before the first sure signs of a winner and loser became obvious... Sweating from the effort required to continue her struggle, Bailey had both her hands burried in her crotch! She was doing a rather frantic pee dance, twisting and switching feet, bouncing on her heels, doubling over at times, bouncing her perfect ass and boobs to the ends of the world, and sporting a truly desperate expression! Kristen wasn't doing too hot either... She was the first to put her hands in her crotch, and they still hadn't moved much. She'd often reposition one hand while the other stayed burried into her burning pussy! She continued twisting and shifting, doubling over once in a while, stomping and lifting her legs, anything she could do to keep the flood gates closed! Finally, Bailey had reached her limit! "Alright alright I give up! I can't do it anymore!" She screamed, frantically looking for any privacy. Alas, there was none out here in the middle of the picnic area... With no options left, she hobbled over to the far side of a nearby picnic table and squatted down. She frantically lifted her dress as a few boiling hot spurts dampened her panties! Finally pulling per black panties aside, she let out a torrent akin to a broken fire hydrant! "Okay okay you win! My turn!" Yelled Kristen, also hobbling over and hiding behind a nearby picnic table! "Not just yet! It's a tie if you don't wait until Bailey finishes! You want your prize money, right?" Grinned Damien, again waving his money around like some sort of rich man betting on a street performance! "But... But..." Muttered Kristen, putting all her remaining strength into keeping her boiling hot piss contained! She was doubling over, furiously grabbing her crotch, raising her knees to her stomach as she repeatedly switched feet, anything to keep her eruption contained! Finally, it happened! A boiling hot spurt dampened her panties and she frantically doubled over even harder, putting weight into her hands on her crotch! Seeing the situation happening a few tables over, Bailey slowed her stream and took her sweet time to finish up! She giggled to herself as she continued to tease poor Kristen! "Hurry up over there! I'm positively bursting over here!" Screamed Kristen, the desperation causing her voice to waiver. She continued her dance, her movements becoming even more frantic! She gasped loudly as another boiling hot spurt erupted into her hot pink panties! This time, it was almost impossible to stop the flow! What was left was nothing short of the most amazing potty dance anyone had ever seen, coupled with profuse sweating and sharp breathing! Finally, Bailey centered her panties and let her dress back down. Standing up, she just caught a glimpse of Kristen as she quickly squatted down and yanked her panties aside! She'd already gotten a hold of her dress on her way down, so she already had it lifted. "HAAAAHHHHHHHHH" Exclaimed Kristen! Her entire body shuddered as she was overcome with relief and pleasure! Her stream flew over 5 feet before finally slamming back down to the ground! She peed like fire hydrant for over a minute straight, impressing everyone watching! "Here's your $50" Said Damien, handing a $50 bill to Bailey. Man she sure can put on a show! How is she still going?! Thought Damien, his eyes locked on Kristen who wasn't as well hidden as she'd hoped to be. He could make out the shape of her butt, the end of her stream on the far side of the table, and everyone could see her head sticking up from behind the table! PHEW "That's better!" Said Kristen, not realizing she'd said that loud enough for everyone to hear... "I bet it was! That was quite the show! You've definitely earned your pay! C'mon over and grab your $100!" Yelled Damien, waving at Kristen who was working on standing back up and straightening her dress out... Kristen came over and put her prize money in her purse. She continued to talk about how much better she felt after that, and that she hadn't gone since 6:00 in the morning! "You didn't pee since morning?!" Shrieked Bailey, now realizing she'd just competed with someone who hadn't used the restroom right before they left for their date. That thought really sunk in... How can anyone hold that much?! We now skip ahead 4 hours. Everyone except for Kristen went to the restroom at the city park about an hour ago... Arriving at the night club, both couples downed the house special! Raspberry Daiquiri with orange peel on the rim of the glass! It was so good, both girls downed several of these and chased them with a full bottle of Mountain Dew! With their thirsts quenched and spirits ablaze, the couples took to the dancefloor! They danced and danced and danced! They took turns in the spotlight, dancing continuously for over an hour! After that performance, they were all rather sweaty and had worked up another thirst to be quenched. Everyone had some cherry house cola before leaving. As they walked out of the club, Damien spoke up. "There's actually one more place we had planned for tonight. There's an old lookout just north of here! It overlooks the entire city, and if you look the other way, you can escape the city's glow and see all the stars you never can in the city! We already reserved it, of course!" "What's this 'we' nonsense? I paid for it. You didn't wanna pay for any of the reservations tonight, since you were handling the bet money!" Retorted Travis, pouting at Damien. "Wait. You reserved everything? The park, the club, and the lookout?" Asked a curious Kristen, wondering just how much money these two dudes had... "Yep. Although the club was just to make sure they didn't fill up before we got there." Said Travis, still glaring at Damien. "You see, our buddy Damien here is rather popular with both the authorities and the local businesses. He's organized the dispersal of rallies, paid for homeless shelters, and ran campaigns to promote local small businesses. Needless to say, the city does what it can to return the favor." "Yeah, that about sums it up. Being popular also means being busy, even if that's with people that are as much animals as they are people..." Said Damien, pulling out a picture of Roxy drooling over a pan of Hamburger Helper! "Those ears are not a headband, and that tail is not a belt. She's got claws too, nearly cut me in half..." Giggled Travis. "Knocked the whole table over too..." Laughed Damien. "It was fun while it lasted. She doesn't belong in the city." Said Travis, trying to keep the conversation grounded so their dates wouldn't get jealous. "Definitely not. Everything just seemed alien to her. She didn't know how to use forks and knives, never slept on a real bed, even just the hot water seemed to amaze her!" Responded Damien, following Travis' lead to keep this conversation about Roxy's differences instead of talking her up. "Remember how she understood the pets though? I'd given Sasquatch one of those Salmon Lovers meals that morning, yet she went and complained to Roxy that she hadn't had any of her fishies in over a week." "Who's Sasquatch?" Asked Kristen, entranced by the picture she was looking at... Cat ears sticking out of Roxy's head, a tail sticking out just below her behind, and real claws... Simply amazing! "My cat." Answered Travis. "She understood your pet cat?" Asked Bailey, filled with amazement towards whoever this Roxy person was! "Yep. The dog too. That one really surprised me. I asked her if she can understand all the animals in the world, and she said she probably could if she had enough time... She also said she's more fluent in bear than she is in English or feline. Something about being forced to learn so she could stop them from bullying her over territory." Responded Damien. "She lives in the woods?" Asked Bailey. "Uh, she did for a while before I found her out there starving. Her shelter was falling apart and she said she'd been kept at a farm and abused before making her escape. Thing is, nobody walks the road that goes by the woods where she made her shelter, and she was deathly afraid of cars. It was a struggle convincing her to come back so I could get her a proper meal and some good clothes. We had a whole adventure. Eventually, our dog helped her sniff out her mother. Turns out, she comes from a whole family of animalized people that live in a mansion in the woods. It's really burried though, like you'd never find it if you didn't already know it was there. No roads or driveway or anything." Said Damien, doing his best to talk up Roxy's abilities instead of her as a person... Last thing he wanted to do was make his date jealous of someone he'd spent the night with before... But they didn't need to know that part... "That's just... What do I even say?" Muttered Kristen, somewhat jealous, but mostly just amazed with this Roxy person they were talking about... "You don't know the half of it. I know it sounds like I'm making this up, but she jumps so high you can't even see her! Damien told me that she sprints on all fours and leaps from the base of one tree to another. I got to see a bit of this at the mansion too. She's probably faster than a lot of the traffic around here when she's really going for it!" Said Travis. "Uhuh... Either way, we should get started. We'll miss our reservation if we don't get going!" Said Damien, taking the opportunity to change the subject to literally anything else. "Yeah, you lead the charge!" Said Travis, showing his date back to his car. Damien did the same... "It said on your bio that you're a racecar driver, and I saw you own an S2000. I was wondering... Wanna put your harness on and we'll hit the twisties on the backroads to the lookout?" Said Damien, trying to get his mind to switch off of Roxy... This night was supposed to be about his date, and about the next game they had planned... "Sure! Show me what this baby can do!" Said Kristen, readjusting her dress and tightening the harness down. Luckily, her dress covered just enough skin that the harness didn't make contact with any bare areas on her. "Alright! Here we go!" Said Damien, slipping his baby into first gear and taking off! The two of them went for one hell of a ride! Damien was alternating between all wheel drive drifting and inner wheel lifts as he swung back and forth through the backroads! These roads were barely wide enough to drive normally, and somehow he was navigating them flawlessly at over 80 mph at night! Not just that, but she found herself amazed by how refined his maneuvers were! He'd lift up the inside wheel and hang it over the dilapidated shoulders before setting the car back down on all four wheels. At no point in any of this did Kristen feel the wheel come off the ground. Far as she was aware, Damien had simply figured out the car's center of balance. And not just that! Even though they were going upwards of 80 mph and Damien had to repeatedly slow down for turns and then speed back up, Kristen never got moved in her seat! Even at this speed, his driving was so smooth that she wasn't even sure if she needed the harness... Hell, she couldn't even feel when he changed gears. She's seen him do it over and over, but never felt any of it! Even when he drifted, he moved the car's weight so smoothly that the tires never screeched and the car never jerked when he straightened back out and gunned it! Several times, the turbo's whistle had become a howl, and she still felt like he wasn't driving hard... And that's exactly what was going on. Damien wasn't driving hard at all. He was just cruising, albeit at a much higher speed that most others could ever pull off. Travis on the other hand, he definitely wasn't a racer. His car's headlights lit up the road just enough for him to drive normally, which was rather smooth and just a hair over the speed limit. He and his date were going slow enough to still hear each other over the wind through the open convertible, and they found themselves talking about critters they'd seen in the woods recently. Naturally, Damien and his date arrived far earlier than Travis and crew. They got out of the car, stretched, and went for a quick walk to kill some time. Arriving about ten minutes later, Travis and his date stood up and stretched... Well, as best they could... Bailey's bladder was filling up again and she was to the point where stretching would make it near impossible to hide her situation... "Hey guys! You ready to head up to the top?" Asked Damien, nodding to the top of a square tower with aircraft warning lights on the corners. "I'm good. You ready, Bailey?" Responded Travis. "Yeah, that's cool. There's restrooms, right?" Responded Bailey. "Yep. The nice ones that're always clean are on the fourth floor." Responded Damien. "Okay. Then we're ready. We'll make a pit stop on the fourth floor." Said Bailey. Phew. Glad she spoke up so I don't have to. Thought Kristen. She hadn't gone to the bathroom since the park... Not only did she have the alcohol and the bottle of mountain dew and can of club soda in her, but since she hadn't peed since the picnic area, she still had a bottle of water sloshing around in her too! The group entered the elevator and pressed 4. The old elevator started up, dinging on the second and third floors before stopping on the fourth floor and opening the doors. Exiting the elevators, the girls followed the signs to the nearest restrooms. "Under Renovations. Additional facilities in penthouse." Read the sign in front of the restrooms... The girls came walking back to the elevator, explaining the situation to their dates. Damien went ahead and hit the button for the top floor, and the old elevator once again started its way up the shaft. Travis started a conversation about the elevator at a mall he likes, and how it has glass sides so you can see everything around you as you go up and down. The girls joined in, taking the opportunity to keep themselves distracted from their need... Looking at the floor indicator, Travis thought something was up... It hadn't dinged in a moment, and he was sure they'd gone up several floors since it last changed... Suddenly, the old elevator shook to a stop! "What the hell?!" Screamed Kristin, taking her hand off her crotch after grabbing it momentarily when the elevator shook. "Looks like we're stuck. I'll call for help." Said Damien, pulling away the cover to the emergency phone underneath the controls. He picked it up, only to find it to be dead. No dial tone, no response when he tried asking if anyone was there, and nothing happened when he hit the Alarm button. "Bad news. Phone doesn't work. I'll call the police on my cell phone and have them get us out of here. It's not safe to try to force our way out." "Tell them to hurry! I really gotta go over here!" Said Kristen, doing her best to avoid shoving a hand between her legs... "Don't worry. I'll tell them what's up." Responded Damien, pulling out his cell phone and finding it to also be dead. "Travis, gimme your phone. I'm out of battery." Travis reached in his pocket, only to realize he'd left his phone on the holder in his car. "Either of you girls got a phone?" Asked Damien, looking to Kristen and Bailey. "Yeah, use mine!" Said Kristen, handing her phone over to Damien. Dialing 9-1-1, Damien only had to wait a couple seconds before someone picked up. He explained his situation, and asked that they hurry, as he's got a situation brewing in here. It's getting rather hot with the ventilation not working. "Okay..." "Okay..." "Thank you." "They said they have to contact the company that maintains the elevator so that they know whether or not it's safe to force the doors open." Said Damien, relaying the news to everyone else. It was a long five minutes before their cell phone rang once again. Damien picked up, finding it to be the same 9-1-1 operator. He once again thanked her for her help before hanging up. "They'll be here in about two hours. In the meantime, we should open the hatch on the ceiling so it doesn't get deathly hot in here." Said Damien, once again calmly relaying the news to everyone else in the elevator. "That's not fair! I can't wait that long!" Cried Bailey, tears forming in her eyes as she began to panic! "I don't think I can wait that long either... Said Kristen, now placing a hand on the edge of her dress... "Well, if you really can't wait, you could always just go in the corner. I'm sure they'll understand if we explain our situation." Said Travis, doing his best to keep his date calm. "I'M NOT DOING THAT!" Said Bailey. At least she seemed slightly less panicked... "How about we play a game to pass the time? It's called Never Have I Ever. We just take turns talking about things we have and haven't done." Said Damien, once again taking charge of the situation. His inability to panic sure came in handy in situations like this... And so, an hour went by while the group talked about things they've done, things they wished they'd done, and things they regretted doing... "Oooh I gotta GO!" Exclaimed Bailey, her hands in her crotch and her legs shifting back and forth... She wasn't frantic like she was at the picnic area, but she was definitely showing her need for the toilet. "Yeah, me too..." Responded Kristen, gently tugging at the edge of her dress as she rubbed her knees together... "It's okay. We're already halfway there. Just another hour and we'll be free." Said Travis, leaning against the wall out of boredom. Travis didn't tell anyone that he had more than a telescope in his backpack... He also had a see through portable toilet with the female tip on it! He'd planned to really hydrate his date and make out over a full bladder before making her go in a very visible manner, but that now seemed like it would go rather differently... He'd brought this along as a way to tease his date and make sure he could keep her urine for later, but now it looked like they might be the salvation his date needed! "Hold on, I have something that might help. Unfortunately, I only have though..." Travis pulled out a 1.5L portable urinal complete with the tip so girls could easily use it without spilling! "Naughty man! What on earth were you planning with that thing?" Asked Damien, a shit eating grin stretching from one ear to the other! "Just... You know... Some extra fun... Looks like that just changed though." Responded Travis, his cheeks beat red with embarrassment. "Only one? What do we do?" Asked Kristen, her eyes moving to Bailey who looked like she was feeling it a lot more than Kristen was... "You could both go just enough to take the edge off, or one of you could just let go... And leave the other desperate...." Said Damien, a boner forming in his pants! "I... I can wait... Give it to Bailey. Look at the poor thing, she's already grabbing herself..." Said Kristen, offering the full container to Travis's date. Her bladder protested profusely, but she simply told it to toughen up. She'd held longer than this before, and there's no reason she couldn't do it again. "That's unfair and you know it! I'll only use half of it, and you can have the other half." Responded Bailey, reaching for the portable urinal. "Everyone... Turn around..." She said as she turned to face the corner of the elevator and hiked her dress up. She lowered her panties and squatted down before allowing a slow stream to start. "hooohhhhhhhh" She said to herself, trying her best to stay quiet... The sound of her boiling hot piss hitting the urinal was just so amazing to Damien and Travis... The two sported some of the hardest boners they'd had in a long time! Within a couple seconds, Bailey's stream picked up in intensity and was now splashing loud against the urine already in the container! "This is bad... I can't stop it..." She said to herself, trying her best to stop her stream. No use, her entire body shuddered as it continued pouring out of her... She'd nearly filled the urinal to the top... No room for Kristen to use it... Bailey set the urinal down on the floor, stood up, pulled her panties up, and lowered her dress. "Kristen, I'm so sorry! There's no room for you to use it... Really, I'm sorry! I just couldn't stop!" Said Bailey, now beginning to cry as she realized what she'd done to her fellow passenger. "Don't cry. I told you I could wait. I've waited longer than this before." Said Kristen, trying her best to hide her desperation. She couldn't stop her knees from rubbing together, but she at least managed to take her hand off her dress... "I wouldn't worry about it. What's done is done. What's important now is staying calm." Said Damien, placing a spare baggie around the urinal to stop the smell from flooding the elevator. Another 45 minutes past, and the situation had changed... Poor Kristen was positively bursting! She had her hands burried in her crotch, her legs switched back and forth as she rubbed her thighs together and constantly switched feet... Her breathing was labored, her body shook, and she couldn't stand up straight anymore! Damien took a look at her bladder... A WATERMELON! He thought, seeing the massive organ pushing against her dress. There's no way she's gonna last much longer... "C'mon guys just get here already! I really can't wait much longer!" Said Kristen, continuing her dance as she began to sweat. "It's okay. None of us will make fun of you if you need to pee on the floor." Said Travis, trying to find any way to salvage the situation.... "I'M NOT DOING THAT!" Kristen yelled, stomping her feet loudly! "Well, isn't it better than wetting yourself?" Said Damien, giving her a concerned look... "I'm not doing that either! I can wait." She said, now grabbing herself a little tighter... Another ten minutes went by and still no sign of the rescue crew. Poor Kristen was in shambles... She was doing one of the most frantic pee dances anyone had ever seen! Sweat was dripping off her face, her feet slammed against the floor while her thighs rubbed together with great strength, her breathing had turned into painful moaning, and she was nearly completely doubled over! "Hey Bailey, do me a favor! Quick! Pull my panties down! I can't let go or I'll lose it!" Shouted Kristen, her entire body continued to shudder as spurt after spurt escaped, soaking her panties and starting a softball size wet spot on her dress! Her boiling hot piss wanted out RIGHT NOW, and it was making that all too clear! "O-Okay." Said Bailey, reaching over and lifting the back of Kristen's dress. She tried her best to lower the poor girl's panties, but they wouldn't move! "Honey, you gotta move your hands. I can't get your panties down while you're clutching them." Kristen let out a load, hot moan as she changed her grip... One hand at a time, she moved them inside her panties, now directly against her burning pussy! Another powerful, boiling hot spurt escaped her grip! It forced its way through the gaps in her fingers and fell to the floor! Finally, Bailey got the poor girl's panties down! Kristen let out another hot moan as she readied herself to drop to a squat, only for the elevator doors to finally open! Outside stood police officers and maintenance men, turning away when they saw what was going on... "I can't... Not like this..." Yelled Kristen, losing another spurt through her fingers, running down her legs and dripping onto the floor! "Ah!" She exclaimed as her hold crumbled further... "THERE'S A BATHROOM ON THIS FLOOR, RIGHT?!" She screamed, getting a nod from one of the maintenance men... "It's right around the corner to the right." Said the man in a company uniform. "Thank you so much!" She yelled, hobbling out of the elevator! She'd completely forgotten that her panties were already down as she tripped and fell... Her boiling hot piss started shooting out of her as she lie there on her stomach! She moaned and cried, tried to get up but couldn't stop the flow, and finally just let it happen. It'd already soaked into the front of her dress and everything... "I-I'm so sorry..." Said the maintenance man, getting towels from a nearby supply closet. "Rest assured, you'll all get a full refund." And with that, Kristen went into the restroom and cleaned herself up as best as she could before the group took the stairs back down to the first floor. Damien placed a couple towels on the car seat and raised the top so Kristen wouldn't be embarrassed about people seeing her as they drove back to her place... Once there, She started a shower and invited Damien! The two had the time of their lives, burning red hot with passion while they did it in the shower!
I wrote yet another story. This one is about a national tournament where the competitors hold their urine. Also, everything is exaggerated in this story. Everything from the massive bladder bulges to the length of urination to the time held… All fictional! Please never try anything this crazy! Hope you enjoy! 🙂 Alexandria trudged through the large oak doors. The room was about the size of a large classroom. There was a camera set up on a tripod. There were also several desks piled high with cases upon cases of water bottles. There was a large television set mounted on the wall and there were a free dozen chairs arranged in horizontal lines around the room. For the most part, this room mostly contained nothing but empty space. “Take it in, Alex,” Alexandria’s father placed an arm on his daughter’s shoulder. Alexandria’s father often referred to her as ‘Alex’. She hated when he called her that. She especially hated it when he called her that when attempting to cheer her up and make her less angry at him. It only ended up making her more frustrated with her father. “The pee holding tournament!” Alexandria’s father exclaimed. “I remember when I competed back in ‘97. I won second place.” “I took home the gold,” Alexandria’s mother put in. She eyed her husband. “But second place, not bad.” “This year it is all women competing,” Alexandria’s father mentioned. “So, you can relate to them better. In terms of anatomy and stuff.” Alexandria grunted. “Guys, do I really have to do this? This is so dumb!” “Come on, it’s fun!” Alexanderia’s father cried. “Oh, I loved it dear,” her mother put in. “So much fun! I would still compete if it wasn’t for that pelvic surgery weakening my bladder.” “Plus, our family has been participating in these games ever since they originated!” Her father exclaimed. “All the way back to you great-grandpapa Glen. It’s tradition!” Alexandria folded her arms across her chest. “Well, I am twenty-three years old now. So, no offense, but I don’t have to listen to you guys.” “First off, yes, you do. Youalways should listen to your folks!” Alexandria’s father retorted. “And second off, that is why you should start partaking in these games. The rules state you must be eighteen years old or above to enter. And third of all,” the large statured man sighed. “We shall never make you do anything you are uncomfortable with. But we think you would enjoy it if you tried it. Plus, as I said, it is tradition. It would suck to let all of that precious tradition go down the drain, wouldn’t it?” Alexandria huffed. “Fine, I’ll give it a shot.” She hated when her family brought up their weird family traditions. “Good girl,” her father said. Each parent took a turn kissing their adult daughter on the forehead. “We know you’ll do great,” her father said. “And remember, it is not win or lose. It is…” “Have fun,” Alexandria sighed. “Yeah, I know.” Alexandria’s parents brought her up knowing about good sportsmanship. And now, Alexandria - while competitive at times - was a good sport, above all else! “We’ll get you sighed up,” Alexandria’s mother told her. “And we’ll come right back and sit in those very seats cheering for you.” Alexandria rolled her eyes. “This won’t be like my spelling bee, will it?” She asked nervously. “No, no, of course not,” her father promised. “We learned our lesson!” “Good,” Alexandria mumbled. Alexandria loved her parents dearly, but sometimes, they got carried away. Two women entered the room. Elena trailed after her mother. “Now, Elena,” her mother addressed her twenty-five-year-old daughter. “I expect you to win this tournament.” “Yes, mother,” Elena said. “You are the seven-year champion and I expect by day’s end, you to be the eight-year champion,” her mother went on. “These girl’s bladders have nothing against yours! Do I make myself clear?” “Yes, mother,” Elena repeated. “Very well, see you after the competition,” the slim woman turned to leave. “You’re not staying?” Elena sounded hurt. Her mother turned to face her. “You are a grown woman now. You do not need mommy to stay here and encourage you to hold your bladder. I expect you to do that on your own. Understood?” Elena looked like she wanted to protest. Instead, she just shoved her hands in her pockets, dropped her gaze, and muttered, “Yes, mother.” Elena watched as her mother left. Alexandria, having witnessed the entire scene, slowly approached. “Hey?” “Oh, hey?” Elena looked. “That was rough,” Alexandria cut to the chase. “Oh, that?” Elena asked. “Oh, my mother is very competitive about this sport. She is determined that I win. She has trained me and trained me, and she has made it clear that I need to win. The woman is psychotic, I swear! The moment I turned eighteen and was of legal age for this contest, she entered me to compete. And she has made me compete every year since.” “That’s rough,” Alexandria repeated. “She used to be a star in these games and now she wants me to follow in her footsteps,” Elena went on. “Like, I am twenty-five years old!” “I know, right,” Alexandria snorted. “It’s like, I thought after I became an adult I wouldn’t have to worry about my parents making me do stupid things anymore. I would finally be in charge of my own life!” “Exactly!” Elena cried, eager to have someone to agree with her. “We are grown women! If we don’t want to do this silly thing, you shouldn’t have to! I take it your parents are making you compete?” “Kind of,” Alexandria replied. “I mean, not like your mom! My parents gave me a choice. But they were very instant that I did this. They kept saying it was tradition, it will be fun, you are above age now, they used to be big bladder stars, blah, blah, blah.” “That is all I’ve been hearing from my mom,” Elena grumbled. “Except for the fun thing. My mom doesn’t want me to have fun. She wants me to just crush my compilation.” “That sucks, man,” Alexandria said. “My parents always insist on coming to these things. They sit in the front row and make a ruckus the entire time.” “At least you know they are proud of you,” Elena pointed out. “You don’t know that about your mom?” Alexandria wondered. Elena didn’t reply. Instead, she just kept her head down. So instead, Alexandria just said, “Parents.” “Parents,” Elena agreed. The two women sighed. “So, I heard your mom say you won for the past seven years?” Alexandria started a conversation. “Yeah, I have! Even without her training my bladder is super strong,” Elena explained. “But now… Now I am like a camel! I usually pee only twice daily, even when drinking massive amounts of water. “ “Oh, wow! Looks like I have some real competition!” Alexandria laughed. Elena wondered, “Do you know how many other people are competing this year?” “No, but my dad said this year they are all women.” Elena nodded. “This contest usually seems to lean more towards female competitors.” “Does it?” “Yeah. I mean, most years there is a man or two competing. One year, it was even a majority of male competitors. But generally speaking it is mostly women, yeah.” “I feel like this contest should be like basketball where it is all women and all men for different tournaments. Know what I mean?” “I do,” Elena agreed. “I agree. I mean, men generally have larger bladders than us. That might be why a lot of guys aren’t interested in competing. Women like it because it is more of a challenge whereas it is easier for men. But back to your point… I agree. Men should compete in one tournament and women in another. That would make more logical sense, I agree. But I personally like competing with a mixed group.” “Oh, do you?” “Yeah, like, it is more interesting to compete in a mixed group of males and females,” Elena said. “But anyway…” The two women fell silent as their conversation trailed, and coincidentally, this is when they spotted a couple of women enter the room. The two women were very giggly. They kept nudging each other and saying, “You’re going down!” “No, you’re going down!” “You’re the one going down!” “It will be interesting to see what happens,” Alexandria spoke up. The two women looked up, their smiles fading as they managed to recompose themselves. “Sorry, we were just goofing around. Didn’t see you guys there,” a tall African American woman apologized. “Yeah, we were caught up in our own friendly squabble,” a woman with blonde hair stretching down to her calves said. “No worries,” Alexandria said. “All good,” Elena agreed. “Oh, my name is Juliet,” the long haired woman said. “And this is my BFF, Tasha.” All four women waved and spoke at once, like crows on the side of the road. “Hi, nice to meet you.” “You too.” “Nice to meet you too.” “Hello!” “Oh, my name is Elena,” Elena said. She turned to Alexandria, “I just realized, I never introduced myself to you either.” “All good,” Alexandria said. “Anyway, my name is Alexandria.” “Alexandria,” Juliet pursed her lips. “That’s kinda long. Any nicknames you got?” “Not that I like,” Alexandria admitted. “You’re one to talk about names!” Tasha laughed at Juliet. “You are literally named after ‘Romeo and Juliet’!” “Oh, are you?” Elena asked, interested. “Yeah, my dad is a big fan of Shakespear,” Juliet replied. The conversation between the four women was cut short when a muscular man with dashing blue eyes approached. “How are we all doing today, ladies?” He asked. Once again, the four women spoke over one another. “Good. You?” “Not bad, not bad.” “Hanging in there.” “Fine, you?” “Excellent, excellent,” the man said. “My name is Leonard and I’m in charge of this event. This year we have six competitors, so we are just waiting on two more. In the meantime, I ask you all to visit the restrooms, get your bladders nice and drained and we will be starting soon.” The woman thanked him and he walked off. “Oh, hey,” Juliet called. “Where is the ladies’ room?” But alas, Leonard was out of earshot. “I’ll show you girls,” Elena said. “I am a regular, I participate every year.” “Oh?” Tasha asked. Juliet bobbed her head. “Okay.” And so, Elena led the way from the room and towards the bathrooms. Melody entered the tournament room. Melody was accompanied by her husband, Logan. “Well, babe, this is it! The pee holding tournament!” Melody took a full circle turn, taking it all in. “Long time since I’ve been here.” “Babe, are you sure you are up for this?” Logan asked. “I mean, after three kids…” “I’m fine,” Melody insisted. “I may have given birth to three kids, but I still have the bladder of an elephant!” Logan looked ready to argue. Melody cut him off and said, “You just worry about finding a good seat to watch me whip the other competitor’s butts!” Logan felt his underwear get heavy. “I like a woman who can hold in her pee,” Logan said, feeling like a dunce. “Yeah,” Melody giggled, placing her hands on her husband’s chest and kissing him on the lips. “But sweety, still,” Logan forced himself to return to reality. “I love you, and please don’t take this the wrong way, but… Isn’t holding your pee like… A young woman’s game?” Melody recoiled, a smile still on her face. “What are you saying?” She asked playfully. “My bladder is too old and worn down for this?” “Well, after three kids and living for forty-one years… It might be, yeah,” Logan said. Melody raised an eyebrow. Still speaking in a playful voice, she said, “Am i going to have to prove my bladder’s strength to you, mister?” “No, I know you have a strong bladder, babe!” Logan promised. “But you are…” “I am what? Old?” “Yes. But also a mother.” “I’ll be fine. I told you, just find a good seat and quit worrying.” With that, Melody spun her husband around, gave him a good slap on the bottom, and let to use the restroom one final time. Melody, of course, didn’t admit that she knew Logan was right. Melody hasn’t competed in these games in over a decade! She was forty-one years old with three kids. Melody had a feeling that she would be the first one out. But she also knew that there was no shame in losing. Logan was just proud of her for competing. And so were her kids. And so was she. Alexandria, Elena, Juliet, and Tasha sat behind four out of five ladies’ room stalls. The sounds of urine rippling against the toilet water were heard only over the sound of stall-to-stall chatter. “I hope I can win again this year,” Elena said. “It will be my eighth year in a row. My mom really wants me to win.” “I see,” Tasha said, over her particularly noisy stream. “Tasha, Juliet,” Alexandria said from the end stall. “If I recall correctly, you girls said you were having a friendly squabble? What…” “Oh, well, you see, we both have pretty big bladders,” Juliet explained. “And so, about a month ago, we got into a friendly, yet serious debate over who’s bladder was larger.” “So, we decided to sign up for the tournament and see,” Tasha explained. “So, did you guys actually make some sort of bet?” Elena asked, over her hissy pee. “No, it’s more just like a friendly competition than anything else,” Tasha explained. “Well, no need to worry ladies,” Elena replied. “Neither one of you will win after all. Because I will be the one to win!” “Oh yeah?” Juliet demanded. “We’ll see about that!” Tasha cried. “I’m not so sure, Elena,” Alexandria warned. “So, Tasha, Juliet, this is you guys' first year competing?” Alexandria stood up and picked up her underwear off her knees. Juliet leaned forward on the bowl so she could wipe. “Yeah, first year.” “Mine too,” Alexandria’s voice was drowned out by her toilet flushing. “Nice,” Tasha rebuckled her belt. Melody entered the bathroom and took the remaining stall, just as Alexandria exitted hers. Tasha and Juliet came out a moment later. One by one, the women finished their business and started on their way back to the room. Upon returning to the tournament room, the women found several men and women had taken their seats, eager to watch the tournament. Among the crowd was Alexandria’s parents and Melody’s husband. Elena did her very best to hide her disappointment that her mother hadn’t shown up. Many of the spectators held buckets of popcorn or had sodas with them. It was just like going to the movies for many people. “Okay, folks,” Leonard addressed the crowd. “We are just waiting on one more. They should…” “I’m here, I’m here!” A sixth competitor ran into the room. “Sorry, I’m late. Things are crazy at work and I had to do a couple hours before getting here… Mind if I pee real quick.” Leonard smirked. “For a contest like this, I recommend that you do. But be quick. We are nearly ready to start.” “Yes, of course,” the woman zipped down the hall. “While we are waiting,” Leonard said. “Let me start off by saying, thank you all for coming to the seventy-fifth annual pee holding tournament!” The crowd applauded. “This event will be broadcasted all over the whole country,” Leonard went on. The camera man waved with one hand and kept the other firmly grasped on the handle of his massive camera. “Now, the rules for this tournament are simple,” Leonard went on. “Our competitors here will drink as much liquid as they can without hurting themselves. We have lots of water over here. But this isn’t just any water. No, it is heavy water. This water is thrice as heavy as regular water. You drink this and you will add three times the amount of water to your system. We also have heavy coffee, heavy tea, heavy ginger ale, heavy soda, and heavy beer for anyone that is interested. With that said, the competitors must drink as much as they can and make themselves have to use the restroom. The competitors must hold their urine longer than the others in order to win this game. Leaking is allowed. You may leak or trickle or even squirt some urine here and there. However, if the stream comes out and refuses to stop, you are out. You may quit and use the restroom at any time, should you not want to wet yourselves. But be warned, if you do use the bathroom, you have officially lost. The competitors are not allowed to leave this room for any reason, unless of course they are going to the bathroom. As far as the judge - myself - is concerned, you have lost the moment you leave this room. Also, you have been disqualified should you stop drinking for ten minutes or more. Do not force yourself to drink to the point you feel unwell, but you must do your hardest to keep drinking liquid, and liquid of your choosing. We want to get you ladies desperate after all! However, when you get to the point of total desperation - in other words, you can no longer sit still - then you are free to stop drinking. And if at any point any of you feel unwell, please just go and use the restroom. This is supposed to be a fun game and a nice tournament! It is not worth your health. Seriously, I cannot stress that strongly enough… Do not harm yourself. You all must be eighteen to enter, and I believe you are. You all are also required to have submitted in a container containing your maximum amount of urine ever done in one sitting over the past year. Which you all have done, as well. With that all out of the way, let us meet our competitors! First up, we have Alexandria. Alexandria’s family is famous for not only participating in these games, but doing rather well in them.” Alexandria’s parents cheered and hollered in their seats. Alexandria turned beat red. This was worse than the spelling bee! This was a very rather small room. At least the spelling bee was an auditorium. But if Alexandria’s parents screamed in here - which they did - not only was the noise extra loud, but everyone was easily able to tell who they were and why they were cheering. Leonard waited for the couple to calm down before continuing. “Alexandria is twenty-three years old and lives in Burlington. She is a lawyer at a law firm and her record urination was one liter.” The crowd applauded politely. Except for Alexandria’s parents, who once again screamed and hollered. “Next,” Leonard went on. “We have Elena who is our reigning champion of the past seven years. Just like her daughter, Elena’s mother was the champion of every tournament she ever entered.” Leonard smiled at Elena. “I see big bladdered genes run in the family! Elena is twenty-five years old and is currently working as a waitress working towards her doctorate degree. She is studying to become a veterinarian of horses. She lives in Shelburne and her record pee is a whopping two and a half liters!” The crowd cheered on that one. Elena bowed. The other competitors began to look a bit nervous upon hearing this. Two and a half liters… That was a lot for the bladder to hold at once! “Next, we have Tasha,” Leonard said. “Tasha is a first timer. She has entered this tournament along with her best friend, Juliet in an attempt to settle once and for all who has the largest bladder.” Giggles and chuckles filled the crowd. Tasha and Juliet just smiled and waved. “Tasha is thirty-three years old and lives in St. Johnsbury. She is a fashion designer for films and TV shows, and her record breaking pee is that of one point four liters.” The crowd applauded, but nothing like they did for Elena. “Next up, Juliet,” Leonard went on. “Juliet…” At this moment, the final competitor slowly slipped into the room. She gave an apologetic wave to Lenoard. Leonard just nodded and the woman took her spot on the other side of Melody. “Juliet, like Tasha, entered this tournament as a way to settle who has the largest bladder captivity among the two. I am anxious to know myself!” That got some laughs from the spectators and the competitors alike. “Juliet is twenty-eight years old and lives in St. Johnsbury as well. She is a computer scientist and her maximum urination is that of one point seven liters.” This earned some light cheering. “Next, we have Melody,” Leonard stated. “Melody used to partake in this tournament every year. But she has not for eleven years. Until today, that is. Melody was raised on a farm and now lives in Burlington with her husband Logan and their three children. Melody is now forty-one years old and has a job as an accountant and as proof that even between middle age and childbirth her bladder is still on top, Melody’s personal urination record is a liter and a half.” More cheers. Melody had no idea why everyone kept bringing up her age. Then again, she is well aware that mostly younger men and women compete in these games. Melody is a lot older than any of her competition after all! Melody had just been joking with Logan before. But now… She honestly felt like she had to win these games to show everyone, as Lenoard put it, her bladder is still on top. “And our sixth and final competitor is Carmen,” Leonard said. “Carmen is twenty-six years old and currently lives in Charlotte. Carmen has competed in this tournament for the past three years, but sadly has never won. That may change today, however. Carmen works as a businesswoman at a very busy company. No wonder she was late!” Some chuckles. Poor Carmet breathed an exhale, as if to show everyone how overworked she was. “Carmen’s personal record of urine over the past year, is one point nine liters. Wow! She may give Elena a run for her money.” The crowd laughed. Carmen looked slightly confused. With a grin, Elena pointed her fingers to her eyes and then pointed them at Carmen's and back again. Elena did this to A) playfully intimidate her competition. And B) to help Carmen (having arrived late) know who she was. “On that topic,” Leonard addressed Carmen. “Carmen, you have been here before. You know the drill. Heavy drinks, and if you feel unwell, please use the bathroom. But if you leave the room, you forfeit.” Carmen nodded her understanding. “Very well,” Leonard turned to face the crowd. “Let the games begin!"
The crowd faced one another, chatting amongst themselves. This was the most boring part of the tournament. The contestants first had to fill up their bladders. But with the heavy drinks - and the vast amount they were consuming - that should not take an absurd length of time. All of the contestants drank down bottle after bottle of heavy water. Just for a chance of pace, most of the contestants switched back and forth between heavy water, heavy beer, and heavy soda. That is except for Alexandria who stuck to heavy water, claiming that it made her need to pee more than anything. Melody - hating the taste of water - drank all heavy soda and even some heavy tea. Someone had pulled out six stools for all six competitors to sit down on while waiting. After an hour of nonstop drinking, Melody threw her right leg over her left. Her competitors took note of this and smiled. “Feeling an urge?” Elena teased from down the row of stools. “A little one,” Melony used her leg to sit on her hand. “Keep holding,” Alexandria said with a smirk as she sipped some heavy water. “Got to hold on for a while.” While the crowd talked, the contestants did as well. It helped pass the time. Carmen apologized again for being late. She explained to the group how she deals with numbers and work is always super chaotic. She is always called in on her days off and constantly has to work overtime. This is her one day off a week, and her boss almost made her work the entire day. Her boss told her that this was a silly tournament and was not worth missing work - even though it should have been Carmen’s day off in the first place. Fortunately, Carmen was able to convince her boss to let her work only half a day and she could get the rest off. “At least you made it,” Juliet said, taking a big gulp of heavy soda. “Yeah, I suppose,” Carmen held her head back and began chugging some heavy beer. Melody began running her hands up and down her skinny legs. “Bosses are tough,” Melody complained. Melody found her competition smiling at her. “What?” “You look like your bladder is filling fast,” Alexandria commented. Melody crossed her legs tightly, her toes pointed inwards. “Let’s just say… That damn heavy stuff has done its job!” Melody placed both feet on the floor and picked up her heavy teacup off the floor. Melody casually sipped her tea, her legs bouncing the whole time. Juliet’s leg began bouncing as well. Juliet hasn’t even realized it at first. Then, it suddenly hit her like a brick. She had to pee as well! Just like Carmen at her job, Juliet’s poor kidneys were working overtime to filter out all of that heavy water and other heavy liquids she drank. Juliet was easily able to tell that she indeed did drink three times more than what she thought she did. While this may be Juliet’s first urge to visit the lavatory, Juliet’s bladder felt extra full. Fuller than it should, this being a first urge and all. “Okay, folks, it has been two hours,” Leonard brought the room back. “Let us check in on our contestants. Let’s go left to right. In a few words, ladies, tell us how you are feeling. Make sure to speak nice and loudly so the camera can hear you. Also, I ask that you please be honest. This tournament is only fair and well-judged if we truly know how you are feeling.” “Right,” Alexander faced the camera. She was very much aware of her parents staring at her intently as if she was in the middle of telling them an engaging story. “Well,” Alexandria did her hardest to ignore her parents as she said, “I got my first urge about ten minutes ago. It is kind of a strong urge to be honest,” Alexandria giggled, brushing her hair behind her ear. ‘But I’m mostly doing okay for now.” Alexandria’s parents leapt to their feet, hands applauding widely. Alexandria held her head. Why did she have such embarrassing parents! She was in her twenties! Alexandria had hoped they would stop embarrassing her once she graduated high school. But nope. They were still as embarrassing as ever. “Very nice, Alexandria,” Leonard said, as soon as her folks calmed down. “Elena?” Elena faced the camera. She knew her mother wasn’t here… But she couldn’t help but wonder if she was watching. She had to be watching… Right? Seems harsh her mother is making her do this thing and won’t even watch from home! “Hi,” Elena waved shyly. “I’m doing fine. I don’t have to go at all yet, honestly.” The crowd gawked at this. “Incredible!” Leonard cried. “Two hours of drinking heavy stuff and not a single drop has hit your bladder. You truly take after your mother, Elena!” Elena didn’t know how to take that. “Okay, Tasha?” Leonard asked. “Have to pee, but not super bad,” Tasha started. “How long do you think you have?” Leonard asked. “Until I lose or until I am desperate?” “Both?” Tasha pursed her lips. “I’d say in about another hour at the latest I’ll be super squirm,” Tasha held her head so she could scratch her cheek with her red acrylic nails. “And I’ll probably lose in four or five.” “Wow, four or five hours left for Tasha!” Leonard cried. “Well, Tasha, we might make you eat those words! How are you doing, Juliet? I notice both you and your neighbor are extra fidgety.” Juliet and Melody kept squirming and wiggling in their stools. Either girl was unable to sit still. “Honestly, Leonard,” Juliet hugged her knees to her chest. She smiled directly at the supervisor for the event, then looked ahead at the camera. “I really have to go!” Juliet said with a smirk. “No use in denying it, you all can see how squirmy I am anyway.” “True, true… How long do you have?” Leonard asked. “I’d say a few hours.” Leonard’s eyes grew big. “A few hours?” “Yeah.” Leonard said, “Okay, like that determination! Melody? You were the first to wiggle. How’s that mom bladder of yours?” Melody giggled, which was a mistake for her bladder. “Honestly, Leonard… My bladder is in that stage where… It is critical that I find a washroom!” “Already?” “Yeah… It’s true, I have three kids and am a fossil,” Melody laughed. “Do you think you can hold it?” “I’m gonna try!” Melody laced her legs though her arms and pulled the former up into the air. “But my kidneys made a lot of pee and now that pee is in my bladder, anxious to end its journey!” “Well, thank you for that imagery,” Leonard said. Everyone laughed. “Try and keep holding,” Leonard encouraged. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m keeping it all locked up. It’s not going anyway!” Melody promised. Melody bit her bottom lip and held her knees to her genitalia. “Although, it wants to real bad!” “Okay, and lastly, Carmen?” Leonard asked. “How’re we feeling?” “Have to tinkle,” Carmen nodded sharply. “I seriously need a piss right now, to be honest! But I can hold for quite some time.” Carmen’s toes began tapping against the quartz floor. “Very nice, ladies,” Leonard said. “Well, we’ll let you gals get back to drinking! Let us know if you need anything! Oh, and Juliet, Melody, since you two are so squirmy, you are not required to drink anything more. You can if you wish, but if you hope to win this tournament, I would recommend that you don’t!” And so, four of the women continued drinking down heavy fluids while the other two sat there and just potty danced.
Hour three came to an end and all four women slowly became more and more desperate for a bathroom. Melody was now standing. She held her crotch and shuffled from foot to foot. She wrapped her legs and unwrapped them. She crossed her legs and uncrossed them. Melody’s situation was now dire as her bladder neared full capacity. Perhaps everyone was right. Perhaps middle age and motherhood had taken too much of a toll on her bladder. But Melony took comfort in the fact that she was not the only contestant who was bursting full of hot urine. Juliet was also quite desperate herself. Regardless, all six ladies had bladders that were filling rapidly. All six contestants now had an urge to pee, and most were experiencing difficulty with sitting still. “Okay,” Leonard said. “It has been five hours now. How are our ladies holding up? I see quite a bit of squirming going on over here.” It was true, all six ladies had their legs crossed and a few were reaching for their genitals. “Alexandria,” Leonard said. “We shall once again start with you. How are you feeling?” “Honestly…” Alexandria kept her legs tightly crossed. “Kinda full, Leonard.” “Kinda full,” Leonard nodded, a smile across his pale face. “Can you hold it?” “I’m gonna try,” Alexandria said in response. “That’s all you can do,” Leonard said. Alexandria gigged. “All you can do,” she agreed. Alexandria’s parents once again stood. They began shouting words of encouragement to their grown daughter. “You can do it, honey!” Her mom cried. “Keep it in, sweetie!” Shouted her father. Meanwhile, Alexandria wanted to melt into a puddle of shame. “How about you, Elena?” Leonard inquired. “You doing okay?” “Yeah, I’m fine,” Elena’s toe was tapping. “Gotta pee. Nothing urgent though.” “Wow! You have a strong bladder!” Leonard exclaimed. Elena laughed. “Tasha, how we holding up?” Leonard moved along. “Fine,” Tasha had her legs crossed and her hands buried in between them. “Have a lot of pee inside my bladder.” “Ah, yes, well, do your best to keep it there,” Leonard joked. Tasha gave him a thumbs-up. “Juliet? How are you doing?” Leonard asked. “You holding back the flood?” Juliet was wiggling wildly on her stool. Her butt moved up and down and to the side. Her knuckles were turning white. Sweat poured down her face. Her legs were tripled-crossed below her. “Honestly… I am struggling, Leonard,” Juliet admitted. Leonard smiled. “Oh, yeah?” “Yep. It wants to come out!” Juliet wailed. Leonard smirked. “But you won’t let it out… Will you?” “I’m trying… Trying real hard…” Juliet moaned. “Well, keep holding Juliet. Don’t want to lose to your friend sitting next to you,” Leonard warned. Tasha smirked at Juliet. Juliet gave her the middle finger. “Speaking of desperation, how are you doing Melody?” Leonard asked. “Full to bursting!” Melody wailed. Melody was still standing. She kept one hand in her crotch and continuously bounced up and down on each foot. She was chewing the nails of her free hand. Sweat dripped down her face. Her eyes resembled that of someone struggling with a heavy box. And in this case, Melody’s heavy box was her urinary bladder. “You are quite full, huh?’ Leonard asked. Melody gave a weak nod, mumbling under her breath about how she desperately needed a restroom. “Don’t hurt yourself, remember,” Leonard instructed. “If you must leave to use the restroom, do so. But of course, know that if you do, you forfeit as well.” “N… No, I… I am fine…” Melody hobbled around, knees bent together, face twisted in sheer agony. “I can… I… I can hold it…” “If you say so,” Leonard turned to the final contestant. “Carmen, how are you feeling down there?” “Uncomfortable,” Carmen admitted. She adjusted the waistband of her pants. Carmen sat far back on her stool, her legs kept crossing and uncrossing. “I wouldn’t say I am urgent yet, but this is certainly the point I would seriously start searching for a washroom.” “I see,” Leonard replied. “Well, keep holding it in Carmen!” Leonard turned to the crowd and addressed them, “Aren’t these contestants wonderful! We have given them beverages that are three times as powerful as normal liquids, and it has been five hours, and they are still holding! I am highly impressed! Seeing as how you are all very squirmy, you may all stop the liquids now. That is except for Elena. Elena may be squirming slightly, but nothing compared to the rest of you. Elena, keep drinking. The rest of you may stop the beverages and hold yourselves as you, please. Good luck, ladies. We shall check in again in an hour and see who is still holding.” The hour ticked by. For all six contestants, the hour seemed slow. It appeared slow to some due to the discomfort of a full bladder. While others felt the hour move so slowly on account of being rather bored, waiting for their bladder to swell to maximum size. Hour six was slowly approaching and all of the contestants had yet to let out so much as a dribble. Leonard was right. The contestants all had very large bladders, hence why they entered this tournament, to begin with. Of course, large bladders were only half of it. These contestants all also went through training. To pass the time, the contestants decided to chat amongst themselves about that very training. “My mom made me drink gallons of water every day and only let me use the bathroom once,” Elena explained. “Oh, god!” Tasha cried. “That is a bit far if you ask me.” Elena glugged down some heavy water. “Yeah, well…” Elena wiped her upper lip with the back of her hand. “Mom is serious about this competition.” “I trained by drinking three gallons of liquid a day,” Melody explained. “And I was only allowed to have a bathroom break after I finished a gallon.” “Wow,” Alexandria cried. “For a middle-aged bladder that had given birth, that is impressive!” “Hey, I may be middle-aged with kids,” Melody shot back. “But trust me, girl, my bladder still has some give!” “We’ll just see about that,” Alexandria smirked. “My parents helped me train. They made me drink a gallon and hold for as long as I could.” “So, you didn’t actually have a set schedule?” Tasha asked. “Nope. I just held until I could hold no longer,” Alexandria replied. “I wish I had that,” Elena crossed her legs. “Every now and then, I slipped and had an accident. Mom was furious!” “Your mom sounds nice,” Carmen joked. “My husband helped me train,” Melody squatted up and down. “He’s in the audience actually,” Melody pointed to her husband who waved at the contestants. “My parents are also here,” Alexandria grumbled. “We know,” Tasha said. “China knows your parents are here!” Carmen joked. “Anyway, I trained by drowning six gallons in a go and peeing twice daily.” “Whoa!” Melody exclaimed. “That is a lot of liquid!” “You may give me a run for my money after all,” Elena giggled, sipping her water. “Juliet and I trained the same way,” Tasha mentioned. “We both drank a liter a piece and held it for two hours, at first. Then, as we got more comfortable with holding, we increased our water consumption as well as the time between bathroom breaks.” “That’s the way to do it,” Alexandria muttered. “Yeah, but thinking about it isn’t helping right now,” Juliet moaned, holding herself tightly. “Oh, poor Juliet, you need to pee pee?” Alexandria teased. “Mum-hum…” Juliet moaned. “Keep holding, girls,” Alexandria smiled. “Or don’t. If you guys pee, we win, so…” “Well, I won’t let you,” Melody said. “I’ll just keep on holding!” “Ha!” Elena cackled. “You look ready to pop, Melody!” Melody just groaned, shuffling her feet, and rearing her head down in pain. After so much liquid to drink, all six contestants were busy fidgeting and squirming. Alexandria was squeezing her crotch and crossing her legs tightly. Elena - the least fidgety of them all - was just tapping her toes and occasionally resting her hand on her lap. Tasha, meanwhile, had her legs crossed, one hand in her crotch, the other on the side of her stoll, and was rocking back and forth on her hand. Juliet had migrated to sitting on the floor. Juliet had her legs triple crossed and had tears in her eyes from all the holding. Juliet’s whole body trembled as she clung onto her genitalia as if her life depended on it. Melody still stood. She double-crossed her legs and bounced up and down. Her hands were constantly tapping against her thighs. Carmen was busy holding her legs in the shape of a pretzel and squeezing herself. Carmen was sweating nearly as much as Juliet and Melody. These ladies were all clearly in dire need of the restroom! “I’m just happy the drinks are over,” Carmen turned her legs into a pretzel. “Sorry, Elena.” Still slurping water, Elena merely rolled her eyes and aimed her middle finger at Carmen. The worst part was that these women were forced to watch the audience get up and leave to use the restroom, while they all had to keep holding it inside. “Oh, my sphincter is growing so weak,” Melody complained, hunching down to run her hands up and down her tired legs. “Then pee, no one is stopping you,” Alexandria smiled. “I am stopping me! I will last!” Melody wailed. “Nah, girl, you look ready to burst!” Tasha cried. “You and this one,” she jabbed a finger at Juliet. “Julie, Leonard is right. You lose and that means I have a stronger bladder! Looks like I have nearly won our little dispute!” “Not yet, I can hold a bit more…” Juliet panted. “No, Juliet, I’d say you have nearly lost,” Elena called. “Come on, Juliet, Melody… Just think about your bladders. You know, it’s not good to hold. Just let it out and let it flood. Your bladders as well as your bodies will feel sooo much better!” “Yeah,” Alexandria lifted her butt up and down off of her seat. “You two just go pee. It will feel so good!” “So refreshing!” Carmen agreed. “Not helping, girls,” Juliet moaned, rolling around on her backside. “Last time I checked,” Alexandria said. “We are your competition! We are not supposed to be helping you girls!” “Come on, let it out, let it flow…” Carmen teased. “Come on, everyone else is using the bathroom! How about you two use the bathroom as well?” Carmen folded her arms into her pretzel legs. “Come on, girls. Go pee.” “I’ll bet you two want a toilet,” Alexandria said. “I… I want a toilet…” Juliet moaned. “We know you do,” Alexandria nodded in response. “Go on and go to the toilet,” Elena encouraged. “Sit down, take a nice loooooong tinkle into the bowl!” “I… I want to tinkle…” Juliet moaned. “Yeah, Julie, go take a tinkle!” Melody wailed. “Trickle! You’ll feel better afterwards!” Melody hopped up and down on one foot. She kept the other foot only inches from the ground as she pressed her knees into one another and rapidly chewed her fingernails. “You too, Melody,” Alexandria added. “Yeah, you go piss too!” Tasha cried. “Me?” Melody’s voice came out squeaky. “Nah. I can hold. I… I can hold… Oh, god!” Melody reared down, squeezing herself. “What’s wrong, Melody?” Elena asked. “Yeh gonna pee?” Carmen taunted. “Uh-oh!” Leonard called, rushing over. “Looks like we have some teasing going on over here! You girls trying to psych each other out?” The contestants all stammered in agreement of this statement. “Well, it is that time again… Bladder check! How we feeling, Alexandria?” Leonard asked. “Full,” Alexandria admitted. “Have to pee… Bad! But I can last!” “Very good, Elena?” “Have to pee. Nothing too severe yet.” “Strong bladder, I see!” Leonard smirked. “Tasha?” “Very full. But I can hold on.” “I see… Juliet?” Juliet was busy rocking back and forth, holding her knees close to her chest, moaning, and wincing from the pain. “I… I have to…” “Have to what?’ Leonard mocked. “Pee?” “Yeah…” Juliet gave a weak nod. “My, my, my,” Leonard said. ‘I must say, Juliet, you look awfully desperate over there. Can you last?” “I… I don’t think so,” Juliet admitted. “I… I am trying, Leonard… But… That… that stuff went right through me!” “Ah, yes. Three times the liquid intake has a tendency to do that,” Leonard joked. “Try to keep holding, Juliet. But if you must go, go. Please do not harm yourself.” Juliet gave a shaky bob of the head. “How about you, Melody? I believe Juliet took your spot as the most desperate.” “Yeah,” Melody looked down at the shaking, sobbing, rocking mess that was Juliet. “I do think she needs to go worse than me… But I am still very desperate!” “Are you?” Leonard gave a goofy smile, suggesting that he had no idea, but he was excited to hear this news. “How long can you hold out?” “Not much longer, I don’t think,” Melody admitted. “Well, keep it in,” Leonard replied. “If things go the way they are, you may up as the second to lose control, followed by Juliet.” Laughing, Leonard continued on, “Carmen, my girl! How we feeling?” “Need to potty,” Carmen whined, squeezing her thighs. “Joking aside, I really need the restroom!” “You look like it!” Leonard laughed. “The heavy water effect you too, did it?” “That it did,” Carmen giggled. Leonard asked, “How much longer do you think you have before you… yeh know…” Leonard waved his hands below his crotch to suggest a wetting accident. “Umm…” Carmen pursed her lips. “Soon, I think. I know I can last longer than these two,” she motioned to the two competitors to her left. “But I really have to use the bathroom! I don’t know how much longer my bladder can take it…” “Well, good luck,” Leonard said. “And you shall need it! Because now we arrive at the first challenge. Just to make things interesting,” Leonard pointed at a man who held an iPad. The man tapped his screen and instantly, the TV behind the women turned on. And on the TV was the image of a downpour of rainwater. All six full bladders instantly lunged as they were forced to listen to the blaring sounds of water.
Melody’s full bladder instantly gave a squirt. Melody bit her lip and cursed silently. Melody felt her panties fill up with hot urine and that urine seeped through to her sweatpants. The very sound of water was simply too much for her tired aching, middle-aged, mom bladder. The good news was, it was just a quick squirt. Melody was able to stop it immediately. The bad news was that the hiss from her squirt was extra loud and now the crotch of her sweat was dark gray. Melody was positive that someone would notice. The last thing Melody needed was for them to torment her more. If melody received any more torture, she may just burst open! Melody's fears became a reality when Leonard turned to face her. “My, my, Melody… Is that a leak, I see?” Melody’s hands shot to her crotch. Both to help hold and to help cover the evidence. “No…” Melody’s voice peeped. “Really?” Leonard asked. “Cause I heard a hiss and saw some darkness from you.” Curse this man’s excellent hearing and vision! “You leaked?” Alexandria cried. All eyes were on Melody. “Okay, okay,” Melody moaned. “I leaked, I leaked. You happy! I leaked!” The crowd began to whisper and mutter to one another. The crowd was quite literally on the edge of their seats, anxious to see what would become of Melody’s overfilled bladder. Melody spotted Logan in the crowd. Melody feared disappointing him. But Logan didn’t appear upset. He just smiled and waved. “You said leaking doesn't count though, right?” Elena wondered of Leonard. “It doesn’t,” Leonard agreed. He grinned at Melody. “But full-on accidents do! And it looks to me like we are getting closer and closer to having one of those on our hands!” “Look, look,” Melody stumbled around like a drunk. “What happened… What happened was…” “Yeah…” Tasha said, tauntingly. “See, my bladder was just so filled up, and more urine is coming down from my kidneys, see… My kidneys have yet to process all of that heavy stuff!” Melody fumbled for an excuse to explain her leak. “And see, my bladder was just so full… That when more urine came down, it was like, ‘hey, we don’t have anywhere to put this…’ And it squirted some out to make room.” The crowd, contestants, and Leonard all mumbled in mocking tones, clearly not believing her. “That’s all it was, that’s all it was!” Melody held up both hands and waved them to the crowd in a ‘hold on one second’ gesture. Melody kept her knees together and stumbled back and forth on the floor while waving. “Just an attempt to make some room!” Melody explained. “My bladder just needed room so some pee had to come out!” “Sure, sure, Melody, we believe you,” Leonard joked. “Of course, that is all it was!” Tasha cried. “Obviously,” Carmen snorted. Melody smiled at Logan and he smiled back. Melody knew she was acting like a goof. But she also knew that was one of the things Logan liked best about her. Melody knew she didn’t have to win to impress him. But she would still do her very hardest to hold everything back! But as the pressure on her mom bladder grew, Melody could tell another squirt was on its way. “Turn it up, Chat,” Leonard instructed the man with the iPad. Silence fell as the roaring sounds of rain drowned everyone out. Millions of heavy raindrops filled the black background of the screen. They all came thundering down onto the asphalt, each one making an individual pruussh sound that when combined was as loud as the roar of a herd of elephants. The image changed and now resembled that of a creek. Gentle flowing water swam down the sides. Water crashed against rocks, splashing over the sides in an attempt to keep on moving forward. The sounds of trickling water were heard all throughout the room. The image changed again to show a raging waterfall. A waterfall - that must have been one hundred feet in height - was shown on the screen, causing a very loud roaring sound as it collided with the water below it. The lake below rippled as the water was pulled in all directions, splashing down from its one-hundred-foot-long fall off the cliff. The image changed to that of waves in the ocean. Enormous tides grew upwards until they finally crashed down on the surface of the expansive cerulean ocean. White sea foam rippled across the waves and the seawater, shooting outwards all over the surface of the grand waters. The image became one of a fire hydrant exploding. The red fire hydrant burst into bits, allowing a ten-foot-tall geyser of water to spring from the ground and climb higher and higher into the sky, the sound defining to all passing by. The water geyser broke apart and squirts of cold water flew back toward the ground in their own separate streams. And yet, more water just kept erupting from the ground, causing the geyser to never end. The image switched to that of a men’s bathroom. A man stood at a large urinal bowl, filled to the brim with sloshing clear water. While the man - nor his genitals - were on screen, the women saw clearly a light yellow stream come from somewhere off the frame, and make its way, arcing through the air and crashing down into the water. The water rippled and an all too familiar tinkling sound was heard. Each image was even more painful than the last. But upon watching an actual urine stream, Juliet’s bladder gave in. Her sphincter weakened, only for a second, and allowed a massive leak to escape. This leak was nearly twice as big as the one Melody had done. Juliet’s jeans instantly became dark. Juliet leaped to her feet, cursing widely. She grasped and grabbed herself. The first stream had stopped, but another came out. Juliet’s entire vulva was now soaking. As were her underwear and jeans. Juliet squeezed tight, tighter, tighter than she ever had before. But it was no use. Her muscles were simply too weak and strained from this long hold and the massive amount of liquids they were attempting to hold back. Another hot squirt erupted into the jeans of Juliet. She managed to close it off, but she felt her pee hole already begin to twitch open to allow yet another leak out. Juliet stood, urine seeping down her pant leg, causing the stain to grow and grow. Juliet felt warm pee gush down her thigh which was hindering her ability to hold farther. “Uh oh,” Leonard poked fun at. “Looks like Juliet has sprung a leak! And a pretty big leak too!” “What’s the matter, Juliet?” Tasha squirmed. “Unable to hold like a big girl?” The SH sound formed on Juliet’s lips. She may have been about to shout at Taasha to shut up, or about to swear. Either way, she was too fatigued to get the words out. All of Juliet’s concentration went into not expelling any more fluids. However, she had drunk far too much. She had over five liters. And given the fact that this fluid was three times heavier than its original counterpart, Juliet had drunk about four gallons of fluid. It wanted out. It needed to come out! “How, Juliet,” Leonard exclaimed. “Check out that bulge!” Juliet’s stomach was protruding several inches from her chest. It was so large, Juliet nearly fell down just trying to carry the damn thing! A large squirt shot out. Cursing and biting her teeth, Juliet silenced the stream. Meanwhile, Melody felt a little trickle escape her shut pee hole. It was nearly nothing like Juliet was doing, however. Exhilaration washed over Melody as she began to realize that she may not be the first one to burst her bladder! “Oh… OH NO!!!” Juliet wailed. Tears were streaming down her face in two separate streams, one from each eyeball. Puddles of sweat were forming on Juliet’s forehead and arms. Her hands were trembling and her legs were wobbling, unable to support the weight of her bladder. Juliet’s urethra kept involuntarily contracting open and closed, open and closed. Each time it opened a jet of warm liquid shot from it. And now, it opened. Juliet’s sphincter gave in to the heaps of pressure from her bladder. Juliet now stood there, pee gushing from her, her jeans growing darker and shinier by the second, sweat and tears over her face, her pee hole twitching, her bladder slowly shrinking, and the scent of pee growing in the air. Juliet peed her pants entirely. And it felt good. A large puddle slowly began to form at the feet of the fallen competitor. The crowd cheered as did Juliet’s competition. Juliet peed and peed. Juliet just held her head back and moaned. Several long moments passed as Juliet’s bladder drained itself entirely. Juliet now stood, soaking wet and smelling of pee… But empty. And it felt good! Juliet’s perception levels decreased as did her tears. And so did her bladder bulge vanish from sight. Melody had to take a step back to avoid standing in Juliet’s overwhelmingly large pee puddle. Tasha also had to move her stool to the side. Carmen lifted her feet onto her stool as Juliet’s massive puddle began to flow downstream, so to speak. “Well, one down, five to go!” Leonard wailed. “How do you feel, Juliet?” “Wet and sticky… But I am relieved!” Juliet exhaled! The crowd laughed and so did Leonard. “Looks like my bladder is indeed stronger!” Tasha mocked. Juliet just stuck her tongue out at her best friend. Juliet truly hated the idea of Tasha winning their little contest. She mostly hated Tasha now knowing that she did in fact have a larger bladder than Juliet. Juliet was mostly upset about coming in last place. Juliet now knew she had the smallest bladder here! Out of her competition, anyway. But truthfully… Juliet was just grateful for the relief! And this may be the freedom of her bladder talking, but she had fun. Juliet really didn’t care that she lost. She enjoyed herself regardless! “How about you go get cleaned up, Juliet?” Leonard asked. “We have some spare pants for you.” One of Leonard's assistants came forward with a pair of jeans, t-shirt, underwear, and socks. This was good because Juliet quite literally soaked everything! “Good call,” Juliet took the supplies from the assistant and walked to the door. “Watch out for that,” she motioned to her puddle. “And Tasha… You will lose! And I will laugh and laugh!” “Maybe so,” Tasha hugged her knees. “But at least I won’t be the first one out! Now that is just embarrassing!” Rolling her eyes, Juliet left the room, dripping wet, leaving a long trail of pee in her wake.
“Juliet has lost and wet herself!” Leonard announced. “That still leaves five contestants in the running. Who will win and become the bladder champion? It would appear the rest of these ladies are rather squirmy…” Leonard spoke the truth. The five remaining contestants were wiggling, and some were full on dancing, trying to hold in their tremendous amounts of liquid waste. Alexandria was grasping her crotch with both fists and maneuvering her hips back and forth on her stool, rolling them over her fists which remained pressed into her crotch. Meanwhile, Elena was beginning to show signs of higher desperation. Elena was busy toe tapping and leg crossing. Nothing insane yet, but certainly some fidgety motions on her part. Tasha was crossing her legs, holding her crotch, as well as lightly twirling her hair as a way to distract herself. Melody was doing a more intense potty dance now. Melody kept her hands shoved as far into her sweats as they could go. Meanwhile, she kept jumping from foot to foot, while keeping her back hunched, and her eyes shut. Sweat rolled down Melody’s face. Melody’s skin - particularly her face - was bright red from the effort to hold in all of her liquid gold. This left Carmen who decided to stand up and stretch. Carmen kept her hands to her crotch and simply swayed her hips back and forth. Carmen chewed her lip as well, her eyes bulging almost as much as her bladder. Carmen had also moved to the end of the room to avoid Juliet’s puddle. Melody had backed up against the TV to avoid the giant urine spill. The rest of the contestants just kept their feet off of the ground. A custodian came in and began mopping up the giant puddle of shining gold. Thank goodness for the contestants! Having to see that puddle - much less stand in it - was badly harming the bladder muscles. Particularly in Melody. Leonard was kind enough to turn off the water sounds now. But he promised there were other challenges to make this game more entertaining. “You twirl your hair to distract yourself?” Alexandria asked Tasha. “Yeah,” Tasha replied, a fist full of mahogany colored hair in between her fingers. “It helps a lot. You should give it a try.” Alexandria reluctantly took some auburn hair and began twirling it. To her surprise, she realized Tasha was onto something. This was distracting enough that if Alexandria truly tried, she could forget almost entirely of her need to urinate. “Hum? It helps,” Alexandria agreed. “Why do you think I keep my hair so long?” Tasha laughed. “Uh oh, looks like Tasha is giving her competitors pointers,” Leonard said. “Should have kept that one to yourself, Tash!” “Nah, I’m not a jerk,” Tasha laughed. Melody wanted to try this hair technique and see if it worked. But sadly, she was far beyond Tasha or Alexandria’s desperation level. At this point, if Melody removed her hands from her crotch for even a second, it would be game over! Regardless, Melody did her hardest not to think of her need. That is something Logan helped her with during training. Not thinking about it. But she was past that point as well. Melody was at the point that blissful urination was all that she could think about! Melody suddenly felt a little trickle out. But it was only a small dribble. No one even noticed this time! Melody knew she couldn’t keep this up much longer. But she had to try. “Seven hours without a bathroom break! And with all the fluid these girls have ingested, I think we are all blown away with how few accidents we have had!” Leonard cried. “This is truly the strongest group of bladders in the world!” “Wow, Melody,” Alexandria said in a hushed voice. “Your bladder is so big!” At first Melody thought this was a complement to her holding skills. Then she realized that this was an observation. Melody’s bladder was bulging out nearly an entire foot. Melody wanted to rub her bulge to calm it down, but she knew it was far too sensitive to even touch. Melody’s shirt was pulled far up to make room for her bulge. The sad part was Melody’s bladder bulge had pushed her shirt up all on its own. Melody hoped no one could see her bra. “My potty meter is going off like crazy!” Melody wailed. “With a bladder that size, it is a wonder your whole body doesn’t explode!” Carmen called. Carmen now sat back on her stool after Juliet’s flood had been cleaned up. Juliet now sat in the seats, chatting with the audience. Juliet was all cleaned up, wore fresh clothing, and looked much happier and healthier than when they last saw her. Lucky duck got to pee! Even if she lost the contest, Juliet was so lucky to have finally peed! Ten more minutes passed, each one an eternity. Melody’s pee hole was burning, and her bladder was screaming. Melody could hardly stand with all the weight she had sloshing around inside of her. Gallons of urine pushed down on Melody’s urinary sphincter, enticing it to open up, just for a quick second so she could pee. Melody’s sweatpants had a very small trail of gray patch going down the left leg, by her thigh. Melody had spent the past forty-five minutes leaking constantly. Each time she claimed that her bladder was still filled to the brim, and it was just making extra room by pushing out a little pee. Most of the time when melody squirted, no one even noticed. But when the trail moved downward or the hiss was loud, someone would comment. Melody now wore a dark gray circle around her crotch as well as a short trail down the left thigh. The urine was all dried in now. Melody's pants were no longer wet, but they were slightly cold now that the pee had time to settle into its new home. Melody wasn’t too happy about being the second to lose. That may allow her to come into fifth place, but the way she saw it, if she peed now, she would be the second loser. Nevertheless, Melody was proud of herself. And she knew Logan was as well. The truth was, between her age and her mom bladder, no one expected her to make it this far. If Melody lost control right now, everyone in this room would be impressed. A forty-one-year-old woman with three kids lasting seven hours without a bathroom break on triple the amount of water? Melody was a bladder queen no matter whether she won this tournament or not! Melody began to think of all she had to drink. She had just a little over three liters of fluid. Of course, that was really nine liters. Melody did quick math. She believed that to be about two and a half gallons pressing down on her bladder. Melody truly was a bladder champ no matter what happened! Still, Melody had told the truth. Her internal bathroom meter was now in the deep red zone and was screaming, ‘EMERGENCY! DANGER! DANGER! EMPTY SOON! GONNA BLOW IN TEN… NINE… EIGHT…’ Melody’s face was as red as a rose. Sweat was exploding from her skin. Her eyes were tearing up. Thinking of all she drank and her internal bathroom meter, Melody felt another squirt trickle out. It was a very slow leak and not much escaped. But Melody soon began to panic upon discovering that she could not stop this leak. This squirt was super weak, but it just kept flowing. Melody grabbed herself and squirmed, but nothing she did made any difference. The gray spot began to get wet again. The wet patch grew, and a trail began rolling farther down Melody’s leg. Another trail appeared on her other leg. Looking down Melody realized she also had a camel toe. She hoped no one had noticed. All though, to be fair, they probably noticed her wet patch more than they noticed the camel toe. Melody’s vaginal lips - showing through her sweatpants - began to glisten as they got wetter and wetter. Melody instantly felt her underwear get super heavy, weighed down by her bladder’s pressure. Her camel toe grew wetter and darker. Melody could feel her vaginal lips squirting warm fluid all over her sweatpants. Melody’s accident was so slow, that it took a few seconds for anyone to notice. “Hey, she’s having an accident!” A man in the audience cried. All eyes were on Melody. Mutters filled the room. Melody didn’t care. She just stood back and allowed her urine to leave her body rather slowly. The crowd whispered and talked eagerly to watch such a slow wetting. After a couple of minutes of feeling the pee slowly escape her urethra, Melody’s body grew more comfortable with the idea of pissing herself, and in mere seconds, the pee stream quadrupled in size. Melody now stood, flooding her sweatpants. Soon, every square inch of Melody’s sweats were dark gray and glistening from wetness. Melody had to admit, it felt awfully good to slowly start off wetting and then allow her stream to gradually pick up speed. It especially felt good just to get it out of her body! Thanks to her camel toe, it was obvious where the accident was coming from too. If one wanted to, they could easily track down the exact origin of Melody’s flow. Melody’s vaginal lips showed nicely through her sweatpants. And Melody’s flow came hissing out directly in between these two rather large lips. This was the exact origin of the wet spot, where the wet patch had begun and was now getting bigger and wetter with each passing second. Hissing filled the room as Melody’s bladder decreased in size as its contents were all sent to cover melody’s sweatpants. Melody’s skin turned pale again. Her sweat slowed down. Melody just crossed her arms and smiled proudly as she soaked her pants. Melody’s pee stain began seeping upwards and totally soaked the bottom of Melody’s salmon colored shirt. Melody felt her urine pool down in her sneakers and soak into her cotton white socks. Yet another immense puddle was formed on the quartz floor. Melody now understood why the floor was quartz of all things. Much easier to mop up than wood. Melody’s puddle grew and soon engulfed the entire row of stools. It just kept getting larger and larger. Melody’s pee puddle grew so massive that even the audience members in the front row had to lift their feet to avoid getting wet. “That is some pee!” Leonard wailed! Melody’s puddle was now so large, that even Leonard needed to back up. And he had already been standing relatively far away. Shaking her head slightly, Melody simply said, “I’m not even done!” Melody smiled at the camera and then the audience. They all cheered. Melody couldn’t help but feel excitement at the knowledge that right now, the entire country was watching her once in a lifetime wetting! Many moments passed. “Wow, Melody, you done yet?” Alexandria cried. “Nope,” Melody said simply. More moments passed. “You done now?” Carmen demanded. “No, but I am getting tired of standing,” Melody crashed down on the stoll behind her. Many minuets passed. “Umm… Melody?” Leonard asked slowly. “Fine,” Melody knew people were no longer impressed, they were just annoyed with how long her wetting was taking. Even with her stream now on full blast, Melody has been going at this for so long, that it was nearly the eighth hour of the contest! Melody managed to close off her stream, with much difficulty. Melody found it to be kind of painful to stop the flow. Not painful, per say… But that release had felt sooo good… That stopping it for any reason at all just felt plain wrong to Melody! But now that she had drained so much, it was a lot easier to carry around. “I’ll finish the rest of it in the ladies’ room,” Melody announced. “Now, how about that change of clothes?” An assistant came forward with a change of clothing for poor Melody. Jeans, t-shirt, socks, and undies. Logan accepted everything. Alexandria stared down at the massive puddle on the floor as well as the soaking gray pants Melody still wore. “Did your bladder have to make room for that too?” Alexandria joked. “I think it did!” Elena laughed. “Oh shut up, both of you,” Melody hissed just as her stream had down. Melody then turned and began stomping through her gigantic puddle of piss covering the floor. A soaking wet Melody and her husband, Logan left the room and went down the hall. “Okay, folks!” Leonard called. “That was… Some pee! And now, Juliet and Melody have both fallen victim to their full bladders! That means, two down and four to go. Melody and Juliet were our most desperate contestants! Now, it is a mystery who will wet next. And I don’t know about any of you… But that is a mystery I am just dying to crack!” The crowd laughed.
“Eight hours in and two competitors have now expelled all urine!” Leonard narrated. “But that still leaves four lovely ladies who are keeping their floods at bay. Time for another quick bladder check! Alexandria, how’s that bladder of yours doing?” “Honestly, Leonard… I’m getting up there,” Alexandria kept her legs double and triple crossed. “I have to pee bad!” “Uh oh,” Leonard smirked. “Are you going to be able to hold it?” “I’ll try,” Alexandria’s response was drowned out by her parents' screams. “Keep it in, baby!” Her mother cried. “You can do it, Alex!” Her father shouted. Alexandria turned red again. “Yes, well, how about you Elena?” Leonard asked. “How is our big bladder girl doing?” “Okay, firstly… I love that!” Elena smiled at this newfound title ‘big bladder girl’. “Secondly,” she said. “It is getting hard to keep still, to be perfectly honest with you.” “Ah, yes, I can see that,” Leonard took note of Elena’s fidgety movements. Elena now rapidly tapped her lap with her hand. Her legs were crossed and her feet were twitching. “You have had more than enough fluids, I think,” Leonard laughed. “You may stop the fluid intake as well, Elena. Elena almost cried with relief. It was getting harder and harder to keep drinking. Just having to look at this water made Elena’s bladder ache, let alone having to drink it down! When Leonard told her she could stop, Elena almost wept with joy. But in her attempt to remain as the big bladder girl, she merely nodded and said, “Sounds good.” “Yes. Hanging in there, Tasha?” Leonard asked. “Yeah,” Tasha squirmed in her seat. “But the pressure is building…” “Oh, that’s not good,” Leonard pretended to look sad about this news. “Keep holding! Carmen?” “Gotta pee!” Carmen shuffled her hips, bringing her knees close together. Carmen’s entire body swiveled around in an entire circle. “Well, hopefully, you can pee soon,” Leonard said. “But as Juliet and Melody have demonstrated when the pee wants to exit, it will exit!” That caused giggles and chuckles from the crowd and contestants alike. Leonard watched Elena set down her final empty bottle of heavy water. “That reminds me,” Leonard said. “How much exactly did you ladies have to drink? And remember, each bottle is one liter. And each liter is as strong as three liters.” “I drank seven liters… So that is what, twenty-one liters?” Alexandria squirmed. Her parents cheered. Alexandria blushed. Leonard’s jaw dropped. “Twenty-one liters…” Leonard mused. “That is equivalent to five and a half gallons! How has your bladder not burst yet, Alexandria?!?” Alexandria’s parents hooped and hollered. Blushing, Alexandria shrugged. “I got good control.” “I guess!” Leonard laughed. “Big bladdered girl, Elena… How about you? How much have you drunk?” Grabbing her lady parts, Elena said, “About ten liters.” “So, thirty real liters!” Leonard wailed in alarm. “So eight gallons of fluid! You poor, poor girl. That poor aching bladder of yours! How have you held so well for so long?” “I've been training,” Eleena replied. “Looks like it!” Leonard exclaimed. “I am afraid to ask, but Tasha…” Leonard ventured. “Five and a half liters,” Tasha said. “So, I guess that is sixteen and a half liters.” “That is just shy of four and a half gallons,” Leonard said. “Not nearly as much as your companions… But still, far more than any normal-sized bladder could hold. Keep holding her in, Tasha! And lastly, Carmen. How much have we had to drink today?” “About six liters, I think,” Carmen said. “So, eighteen liters I guess. How much is that in gallons?” “Four and three-quarter gallons!” Leonard wailed. “Impressive! Very nice, ladies. Just keep on holding. I have a hunch someone will lose soon.” Leonard’s hunch was wrong. Two more hours passed and no one lost. The contestants did, however, get much more wiggly within that time. Alexandria, Elena, Tasha, and Carmen were all much more squirmy now and their bladders had all expanded to unbelievable measurements. The tournament was now at the tenth-hour mark. It was not uncommon for these pee-holding tournaments to last a long amount of time. After all, the people to enter these tournaments had the strongest, largest bladders on earth. And that was even before they trained! The bladders to enter this tournament were nearly unbreakable. But between the pressure placed on them and the length of time, they were forced to hold, even these iron-strong bladders were beginning to grow weak. Leonard had ordered pizzas for the live audience and the contestants. The contestants had very small sips of heavy water with their pizza. The contestants had all been starving at this point. They were eager to place some food inside their stomachs. But they were also anxious to empty the urine from their bladders. It is a strange thing when you think about it. We want our stomachs to be full and our bladders to be empty. “I’ll be,” Leonard said, amazed. “Ten hours in, many gallons down, and we are all still holding! You know what that means? Time for another bladder check. How we doin’ ladies?” “Full,” Alexandria was grabbing herself and wiggling from side to side on her stool. “Yeah, quite full,” Elena stood. Elena had her arms behind her back. She wiggled her hips from side to side and moaned slightly. She kept her legs crossed in front of her and chewed her lip. “Super full!” Tasha cried, tugging at her hair and keeping her legs crossed out in front of her, a hand in her crotch. “Bursting full!” Carmen wailed. Carmen sat on the floor, legs back in their pretzel position and hands dug deep into the crotch of her jeans. Sweat drizzled down her face and her arms shook like buildings during an earthquake. All four women had very large bumps ballooning out of their stomachs. And it was not from the food but rather a different need. “My, my, my,” Leonard grinned. “You all are quite full of urine, aren’t you? That is perfect because now we come upon the next challenge!”
“For the second challenge,” Leonard went on. “You ladies shall be forced to test your bladders against added pressure! My assistants are currently passing out belts. You must place the belts directly over your bladder bulging. And on top of that, my assistants shall press down on your bladders with all the strength they have.” All competitors looked up in absolute horror. “You are kidding…” Carmen managed. “Is that a problem, Carmen?” Leonard smiled, clearly understanding Carmen’s concerns. “Actually…” Carmen grasped her aching genitals. She knew full well that if she refused this challenge, it would be just the same as if she left or stopped drinking before told to. This tournament was all about doing as instructed. And that included these damn challenges. But Carmen’s bladder was so swollen, she felt incredibly bloated! Carmen felt ready to give birth. “Never mind,” Carmen said quickly. Leonard grinned evilly. The four remaining competitors reluctantly buckled the belts over their bladders. Alexandria felt sharp pains traveling up her nervous system. They came directly from that overflowing bladder of hers. Elena, meanwhile, didn't feel pain, so much as discomfort at not allowing her bladder to expand like it so wanted to. Tasha’s bladder was by far the largest as of now. Even larger than Carmen’s. Having to buckle up her bladder put heaps of pressure down on her pelvis, making her entire body ache. Carmen - being the most desperate at this point - felt ready to vomit. Her bladder was begging and pleading to be emptied. Carmen truly was extending her limit and she knew sooner rather than later… She would pop! Leonard’s assistants all stood behind each woman - now all back on their stools - and the assistants pressed down as hard as they possibly could, using both hands, shoving down into the bladders of four very desperate women. Alexandria felt the pain in her bladder travel deeper into her body, making every organ, and every bone ache and beg for release. Elena felt her discomfort blossom into that of throbbing pain. Elena now had to grab herself to keep any liquid from slowly seeping out. Tasha felt the pressure of her jumbo-sized bladder heightened to unbelievable amounts. She also felt her bladder twinge as it threatened to release all contents where she sat. Carmen, at the moment, felt ready to burst like a water balloon. Carmen was well past her limits and she knew in an hour more at the latest, she would surely lose the tournament. Alexandria crossed her legs and rasped herself, biting her lower lip and cursing like a sailor. After all that heavy drinking - in terms of liquid drink and the heavy properties it contained - Alexandria felt herself inflated like a hot air balloon. She was now ready to burst and take a much-needed piss. And yet, she refused to leak a single golden tear. Elena swiveled her bum on her stoll, also chewing her lip and sweating a fair amount. Tasha’s dark skin was nearly red as she grasped and held, moaning and groaning. Sweat dribbled from her face, her tired eyes bloodshot, her full bladder pushing as hard as possible against the leather-bound restraining its movements. Tasha crossed her legs. She grabbed herself and yanked at her hair. She tightly squeezed the fabric of her dress, holding fistfuls of the silk. Carmen kept one foot pressed in her crotch and the second wrapped around the first. Both hands were on her crotch and she sweat and cried tears of torture. Carmen groaned and sobbed, silently begging her sphincter to stay strong and her urethra to remain shut. Carmen was a vault door, forcing herself to remain shut for as long as she needed. But Carmen’s bladder of steel was slowly losing the battle. Carmen was on the verge of releasing any and all liquid her bladder has accumulated in the hours before now. Several woeful moments passed by. All four ladies felt nothing but pure pressure. The belts, the hands-down on them, the full bladders. Nothing but intense pressure for these four. At one point, Alexandria’s father told her, “I’m going to the bathroom, Alex. I know you can stay closed, however!” Alexandria wanted to scream at her old man. How dare he take a piss when she was suffering. But Alexandria was too weak to speak, much less shout. She knew she could hold longer, granted the strong hands and belt on her bladder be released. But as for now, Alexandria could only focus on keeping her bladder under command. The man holding onto Elena’s bladder began guiding his hands up and down and all around. He pressed down on her navel… Hard. Elena moaned. But not a single drop leaked. Elena’s pee hole was closed until further notice. She would not pee. She would make her mother proud. The woman grasping Tasha’s bladder dug in deeper. Tasha squeaked as she felt the smallest squirt escape her aching pussy lips. It was just a small squirt. No one noticed. But Tasha’s panties were certainly damp. She could not take the pressure from her bladder much longer! Carmen felt as if an ocean the size of Russia was inside her body. Worse, she felt the ocean being condensed into a much smaller space. Even worse, she felt that condensed ocean being poked and prodded by some man she didn’t even know. Carmen could feel the first few drops leak from her bursting bladder and roll their way down to her lady bits. Carmen’s womanhood was cramping from the effort to hold back the golden ocean currently brewing inside of her. After nearly five gallons of liquid, she desperately needed emptying! The audience members all leaned forward, watching with breathless anticipation as these events unfolded before their very eyes. They watched as the contestants grew ever so desperate to leak. Melody and her husband, Logan as well as Juliet all watched as well. Every now and then, Juliet would call out obnoxious comments to Tasha. “Come on, Tash, don’t leak!” “Keep it in, Tasha!” “Big girls don’t pee themselves, Tash!” Juliet would call. “Shut up you little…” Tasha hissed through clenched teeth. And so, this went on. The four remaining contestants moaned and sweat as they held on for dear life. Meanwhile, belts were pressing their bladder bulges far down and four large men and women pressed down even further into already overloaded urinary bladders. “Okay,” Leonard said, after an intense fifteen minutes. “We are nearing the end of this challenge, and to everyone’s surprise, no one so much as leaked! But before we end this challenge, I ask my four lovely assistants to give each competitor one final shove of the bladder. As hard as you can now! Let them have it!” The four assistants walked around the stools so that they now stood in front of each competitor. Each assistant held up both hands and thrust them into the giant bladders of the four sweating and sobbing women. All four women groaned. This was the most intense pressure any of them have ever experienced! Just as Leonard had asked, the assistants were no longer going easy on them. The assistants were now cracking down hard. The sudden pressure was like an explosion of force, enough to cause a rupture… All four assistants didn't just stop at pushing down on the bladders. They all made first and began using the four swollen bladders as their own personal punching bags, The four women moaned and groaned as they each felt two fists move in and out of the flesh of their rock-hard bladders. Alexandria knit her legs together and cursed wildly. Elena grasped her genitals and moaned. Carmen huffed and leaked a large dribble into her undies. Tasha, however, burst. Tasha shouted to the wind, as her fishnet stockings filled with warm liquid. Piss shot through Tasha’s white underwear and escaped through the holes in her stockings. Lemon-colored urine blasted forth from Tasha’s labia at full force. Tasha’s underwear was now filled with urine and urine was leaving many trails from her fishnets and left behind several giant waterfalls as it ran down her stool and puddled on the floor. With the pressure from the assistant's mighty hands and the pressure of the strap already in place, Tasha’s bladder just detonated in her underwear. The front of Tasha’s dress turned damp as did her yellow skirt. Tasha’s shirt may have already been yellow, but it turned a much darker shade from the urine she spilled onto it. Tasha now sat there, moaning and shaking from relief. Her eyes were bugged out and a permanent smile spread across her face. The assistant leaped back. Juliet howled with laughter upon watching her friend empty her bladder all over the floor, just as she had done a few hours before. Alexandria, Elena, and Carmen, once again, held their feet up onto their stools, allowing Tasha’s massive piss puddle room to expand and develop into a pure golden lake. The audience cheered. Leonard pursed his lips and nodded with satisfaction. Several moments passed before the tall Tasha was properly voided. “Looks like I lost,” Tasha stood and nodded to her former competitors. “Good luck, ladies.” An assistant followed Tasha out, carrying clean clothing in their arms. “Well, another one bites the dust!” Leonard cried. “Three down, three to go! Now we get into the championship! Bronze, silver, and gold. Who will win! I have a feeling we’ll find out relatively soon…”
This left only Alexandria, Elena, and Carmen in the running. Three full bladders and only one possibility of the winner. Leonard allowed them to remove their belts now - much to the distressed women’s delight! Leonard ordered his assistants to remove the three empty stools. This way, Alexandria, Elena, and Carmen - the final three contestants - could sit closer to one another. The audience went back to chatting and the hour slowly trekked by. The three remaining contestants grabbed themselves and moaned. The janitor was nearly done cleaning up Tasha’s accident. But the three remaining women were experiencing pressure the likes of which none of them had ever experienced before. Each woman felt an ocean inside, bearing down on their sphincter, causing their stomachs to bloat and distend outwards. All three had faces mixed with sweat, tears, and redness. All three held their womanhoods and crossed their legs. All three lamented quietly and sniveled in torment. All three felt their pee holes pulse and their bladders pound and their sphincters tremor. “I have to pee so bad…” Carmen sobbed, eyes shut and legs crossed. “Then go,” Elena suggested. “Yeah, girl, yeh gotta pee, just pee,” Alexandria agreed. “Let one of us win!” “Yeah,” Elena giggled. Carmen no longer had the strength to waste on even flipping them the bird. Her muscles were too weak. Carmen felt her brain go numb from how much water she held. “Just a little game of mind over matter,” Carmen managed, twisting her legs and arms together to hug her crotch. “Mind over matter, Carmen, you got this,” Carmen told herself. “If you have to talk to yourself, you are probably on the verge of wetting yourself!” Alexandria laughed. “Shut up, I need to focus,” Carmen snapped. “On what, mind over matter?” Elena taunted. “Yes, mind over matter…” Carmen muttered to herself, squeezing tight. “Mind over matter, mind over matter, mind over matter… I can do this, I can do this, I can do this!” Carmen breathed in and out. “Mind over matter, Carmen, just mind over matter is all… I got this. Got it under control!” “Doesn’t look like you do,” Alexandria laughed. “Shush!” Carmen snapped again. Carmen grunted. “Oh, my back teeth are floating!” “I’ll bet you feel it up to your eyes?” Elena asked. “Oh, it is well past my eyes! More like up to my brain!” Carmen wailed. “But I’m fine, okay! I got an iron bladder!” “Yeah, so do we,” Elena shot back. “Bladder of steel club!” Alexandria cried in cheer, pumping a fist into the air. “But no one can hold forever!” Elena whispered to Carmen’s ear. “I can…” Carmen grunted through her crooked teeth. “I can last… I’m a big girl, big girls don’t wet!” Carmen began to scratch her calf in a desperate attempt to numb the nerves sending frequent and urgent signals between her bladder and her brain. But it didn’t work. The nerves were just too strong now. Carmen imagined her nerves as people. They were constantly shouting at her brain to empty the bladder… NOW!!! Carmen was about to do just that too! Those nerves would be the death of her! “You know, Carmen,” Alexandria said. “Full bladders really… Piss me off!” Alexandria laughed and slapped her knee. The sudden movement caused her bladder to throb. But it was worth it for that terrible pun! “Oy,” Elena rolled her eyes. Carmen couldn’t help but smirk. “Get it?” Alexandria cried. “Because full bladders are filled with…” “We get it, Alexandria. Please never do that again,” Elena moaned. “The only thing worse than the pain of an aching full bladder is your awful puns!” This time Carmen did laugh. It was just a small giggle, but it caused her already painful bladder to nearly explode with the labor to hold back the sea of pee inside. “I’m really starting to feel the pressure to be honest,” Elena respired, hands running over her six-inch bulge. “Oh, yeah, I feel tons of pressure down in my vagina,” Alexandria mentioned. “Really? I feel the most pressure on my panty line,” Elena stated, running her freshly manicured fingers over her bulge. “I feel it in my vagina,” Alexandria crossed her legs. “Or my vulva, rather,” Alexandria breathed and grasped herself, rocking up and down. “Whew, I gotta pee!” she chewed her lip and moaned. “Hey, Carmen, where do you feel the most pressure when you have to pee?” Elena wondered. “I don’t want to talk about it,” Carmen moaned. “Ah, come on!” Alexandria kicked her legs out in front of her repetitively. “We told you!” “Yeah,” Elena agreed. “Is it…” “Okay, okay, fine…” Carmen moaned. “I personally feel the most pressurization down in my navel.” “Oh?” Elena arched her eyebrow. “Ah, the belly button!” Alexandria cried. “So,” Alexandria reached past Elena and gently rested her hand over her competitor’s swollen bladder. “If I were to press down here…” Alexandria pushed her hand inwards. “Ah, ah, ah!” Carmen moaned, screaming in absolute pain. “And the assistants were pressing down on you in that exact spot as well,” Elena recalled. She smirked. “Oh, Carmen, that must have been killing you!” “What’s going on over here?” Leonard asked, approaching the group of contestants. Taking her hand off of poor Carmen and sitting back, Alexandria smirked. “Carmen’s about to go potty in her pants.” “Oh, looks like I arrived just in time!” Leonard motioned for the camera to move in closer on the group of desperate ladies. “I… Juliet is right…” Carmen moaned. “I… I’m gonna hold on… I can hold… I’m gonna… I’m gonna hold my pee like a big girl!” Carmen shut her eyes tighter. She placed a hand flat over her private parts and closed her fingers around it. She squeezed with all of her remaining strength. Sweat was rolling down her forehead. Even with her eyes closed. Carmen could feel the sweat over her eyelids. She wanted desperately to wipe the sweat away, but she feared removing her hands from her business for so much as a second. “I… I’m a big girl… I can hold on…” Alexandria and Elena smiled at one another, getting an evil idea. They winked to show their understanding to each other. “Hey, Carmen,” Alexandria leaned in closer and whispered… “Drip.” “Drip, drip, drip,” Elena taunted. Carmen yelped with pain. Her knuckles turned white as she squeezed even tighter. “Gotta go, doncha, Carmen?” Alexandria teased, doing a fair bit of wiggling and crotch-holding herself. “Well, whatever you do, don’t think about… Waterfalls!” “Or leaky faucets or running rivers,” Elena added. “Yes, or swimming pools or water parks!” Alexandria added. “Water parks! Good one!” Elena cried. “Please, guys… Stop talking about it…” Carmen whimpered. “I want to win…” “Oh, but you can’t win,” Alexandria teased. “Nope, you look seconds away from piddling your pants!” Elena laughed. Alexandria tilted her head and cupped a hand to her mouth and called, “Here comes the flood!” She laughed. “No… No, no!” Carmen sobbed, feeling a small leak make its way into her underpants. “Oh, yeah,” Alexandria squirmed. “I’ll bet you have to piss, huh Carmen? I’ll bet you have to go! And by go, I mean go!” Alexandria deepened her voice, clearly emphasizing the last word Carmen wished to hear right now. “I want to go…” Carmen admitted, her voice extra quiet. “Huh?” Elena placed a hand to her ear, pretending not to hear her competition. “You what? You wanna go?” “Mumph-ump…” Carmen hummed, grinding her rump on the seat. “Then go,” Alexandria sugged. “I wanna go!” Carmen grizzled. Her cry became louder with each sentence. “I want to go! I want to go! I WANT TO GO!!!” And so Carmen went. Carmen’s jeans quickly became dark. The wet patch sprang from the crotch of Carmen’s pants and quickly moved downward, stretching across the entire length of the pant leg. Carmen felt her pee hole speedily convulse. Each spray of hot piss in her pants was louder than the last. Carmen didn’t even attempt to stop it or slow nor speed up the contractions. She just let her body do its thing. It felt lovely to squirt out a little bit of pee at a time. The contractions soon stopped and Carmen turned into a fire hose. Urine gushed from her urethra at rapid-fire speed, soaking everything in its wake. Carmen’s bladder of steel gave into the mountain of pressure and she flooded the entire room in one swift, powerful, godly stream. Carmen’s denim jeans quickly became heavy as she loaded them down with her soggy urine. Carmen felt her underwear get bulky as she voided her bladder where she sat. Urine dribbled down Carmen’s leg holes and once again, a puddle on the floor quickly began growing. The puddle rapidly began to thicken and enlarge all around the stools and covered the entire length of the floor. The puddle stretched as far as the door and even floated towards the audience - who again had to raise their legs. This relief felt so good! Carmen felt ready to orgasm. It took all of her willpower not to stick her hand down her pants and masturbate here and now! Carmen no longer cared that she lost. She made it to third place anyway. Bronze was good! Carmen was just so thrilled to have peed, she didn’t care about anything else. Carmen - like the others - had enjoyed this tournament greatly! She was so happy to have gotten her day off so she could compete after all! “How does relief feel, Carmen?” Leonard smiled. Carmen merely gave him a thumbs-up as she sat back and gushed. Watching Carmen flood the floor caused Alexandria’s bladder to quake. Hearing that gush and hiss made it hard to deny her own urge. Even Elena had to admit… Carmen looked a lot fresher! Peeing would feel terrific right about now!!! Feeling her shoes once again get wet from yet another pee puddle made Elena realize with a start just how long it has been since she last peed. This tournament was almost at eleven hours and she drank over eight gallons of fluids. Even Elena’s monster-sized bladder was growing impatient. Once Carmen’s flood finally concluded, Carmen waved goodbye to the audience and blew a kiss at the camera. She then left with the assistant who carried her fresh clothes. “Well, folks, I believe that leaves…” Leonard turned dramatically to Alexandria and Elena. “Two.” Alexandria and Elena turned to face one another, thinking the exact same thing. It was poetic justice that they were the last two contestants left. After all, Alexandria and Elena were the first to meet each other. And they were both the ones here with parent issues. And now they were going head to head for the pee-holding championship!
“Well, folks, we have reached the twelve-hour mark and two competitors still remain!” Leonard announced. “And I’d say that they look quite desperate…” Alexandria and Elena both trembled, hands in genitalia, legs crossed, shaking and shivering all over. They each sat in the exact same position. Both women held their feet up against their crotch and kept their legs crossed on the stool with their hands helping their feet hold it in. “How you ladies feeling?” Leonard asked. Twin moans of agony was all he received in response. “Music to our ears,” Leonard said. The crowd laughed. “Keep it in, baby!” Alexandria’s mother cried. “You can hold on!” Her father called. Trembling, Alexandria fired her parents with a death look. “Now for yet another challenge,” Leonard went on. “The final challenge, in fact… Relief!” “Huh?” Everyone in the room looked up at Leonard, faces questioning his words. An assistant came forward, carrying two large bowls. Leonard accepted them. “Now,” Leonard told the two remaining women. “Our two finalists have a choice. They are allowed a five-second steam to ease the pressure. They are allowed to relieve themselves either in their pants… Or in these bowls.” As Leonard spoke, two more assistants finished setting up a curtain against the wall. “If they choose to relieve themselves in the bowls,” Leonard went on. “They may go behind the curtain or relieve themselves right here. What do you ladies want to do?” “I… I think I’ll pee in the bowl,” Alexandria said. “I can do it here. I’m not shy.” “Me too,” Elena said. “Okay, two very brave girls!” Leonard said. “Very well, whenever you ladies are ready?” Alexandria and Elena both stood. Their legs trembled and their bladders stung. Both women - while never admitting to this out loud - were terrified. They were now allowed to pee… But only a five-second stream. They may not be able to stop. Both women pulled down their jeans and underwear, flashing the audience with their lady bits. Alexandria had a small triangle-shaped patch of pubic hair while Elena was clean-shaven. Elena’s pussy lips hung down a lot farther than Alexandria's. Elena’s lips were also more plump and pinker than Alexandria’s. It suddenly occurred to the women that this was being broadcasted. The whole country could see their vagina lips. And in a few minutes, the whole country would see them pee too. It may be a short stream, but a stream nonetheless. And the whole country would watch them pee too! But the two anxious females were so eager for relief that they hardly cared one bit. Besides, all of the other contestants were broadcasted full-on peeing their pants. Even poor Melody peed her camel toe for the entire country to see! How different could a visible stream be? Each woman quickly took their bowls from Leonard and placed them under their private areas. Both women were grunting and giving sharp moans. It was pure pain to have to hold on while their pants were down and relief was directly below them. Alexandria and Elena both knew that their waters would be exiting during this task. Whether they wanted them to or not! It was nearly impossible to even see their bowls over their giant bladder bumps! Their bladders were weighing the women down. But they had to hold on, just a little longer… “Okay, remember,” Leonard said. “Just a five-second stream. In three…” Leonard was interrupted by the loud sound of a pang. The audience saw clearly as a clear splash of pee fell from Alexandria and hit the bowl. “Shit!” Alexandria grunted her face bright red from desperation as well as embarrassment. “I see someone is awfully excited!” Leonard laughed. “Sorry…” Alexandria muttered. “Quite already,” Leonard said. “As I was saying… In three… Two… One… Pee!” Two loud, immediate gushes were heard across the room. Two very long, noisy streams came firing from each woman. They made frying noises as they rammed down on the metal bowls. Alexandria was careful only to turn on her tap slightly. She held back the worst of the pressure, carefully allowing just a little trickle out. Alexandria began to have confidence. She might actually be able to shut her stream off! Alexandria took comfort in the feeling of growing pressure on the bowl, knowing the more she got out, the less was inside her bladder. Alexandria looked over at Elena. Elena was moaning and cursing wildly. Elena’s stream had strength and appeared to be never-ending. Elena was desperately grasping at her genitals to get it to stop. Elena’s fingers became soaked as urine ran over them, dribbling all over her skin. Several small streams shot from Elena. Some splattered the rim of the bowl, but most missed altogether. Elena’s stream was messy. It was clearly one of those desperate pees that she was trying extra hard not to take! Elena had tears in her eyes. But it wasn’t just because she realized her stream was unstoppable. Elena knew she was going to lose. Her mother would be furious! Elena had thought she would live up to her mother’s standards, but maybe she wouldn’t after all… Elena could already hear her mother’s cries… ‘All that training waisted!’ ‘What do you have to say for yourself?’ ‘I do not care that you are twenty-five years old! You are a disgrace to my bladder!’ ‘We do not share the same blood! I would never lose a pee-holding tournament! You take after your father! He had a tiny bladder too!’ Elena just stood there, losing herself and cried. Alexandria remembered what Elena had told her regarding her parents. ‘At least you know they are proud of you.’ That was true, she did. No matter what, Alexandria knew her parents were proud of her. She saw them now, waving her on and cheering. Alexandria knew what she had to do. Alexandria relaxed her sphincter and allowed her stream to go full force into the bowl. It was done. Even if Alexandria had wanted to stop it, it was now futile! “And time! Streams away ladies,” Leonard called. “You… You are not stopping… Either of you.” Leonard smiled as did the crowd and the former competitors now in the audience. Alexandria moaned with pure delight as she gushed and sprayed her heavy burden away into the piece of fine china. Elena meanwhile was panting and struggling to regain control. Elena noticed what Alexandria was doing for her and she smiled. Elena managed to stem the flow a couple of times, but her bladder’s needs were just too great. Elena began squirting and squirting and gushing and spraying the bowl as well. Alexandria’s heavy bulge slowly became lighter as her pee hole twitched and thrashed, sending a torrent down into the bowl. Alexandria could feel her bladder pulsating down in her abdomen. The bowl quickly became heavier and heavier. Dozens of rivers of flowing urine overflowed the bowl and crashed to the floor. The countless streams were soaking Alexandra’s jeans and underwear which she hadn’t bothered to take off completely. Alexander's urine was as clear as water and was odorless as well. Alexander felt countless droplets of pee ricochet off the bowl and dampen her small hedge of trimmed pubic hair. The puddle on the floor began rising as it met with Elena’s puddle. Elena, meanwhile, had burst her bladder as well. Urine - that was just slightly darker than Alexandria’s - came crashing down into the heavy metal bowl. Just like Alexandria, the urine filled up and flooded out over the sides in a matter of minutes. Elena felt pure relief from having her tightened bladder relax and contract again and again, slowly returning to its normal shape and size. Just like Alexandria, as the pee overflowed the bowl, it sloshed to the ground and soaked Elena’s clothing. A large spray of the golden stuff fired up at her and submerged her t-shirt in warm liquid waste. Alexandria purposely dropped her heavy urine bowl and allowed it to tumble down her pants and crash to the floor. A tidal wave of urine rushed from the bowl to join the vast puddle forming on the floor below the competitor’s feet. Elena, however, carefully set her overflowing bowl onto her stool and continued to gush. Both women now stood, legs spread, jeans and panties pulled apart under their feet, pants and undies getting flooded in an ocean of piss, the largest puddle yet collecting on the floor below them. The two giant bladders spent what felt like an eternity getting properly emptied. Looks of relief washing over Alexandria and Elena’s faces. Their color returned to normal and their bladders shrunk, just as they did for the others. “Wow, ladies, nicely done!” Leonard had to shout to be heard over the crashing of urine to the floor. The crowd went wild. Alexandria and Elena lasted half an hour more before finally drained and much, much happier! But their clothing was totaled. Still half naked and dripping wet, the two women turned to face each other. Alexandria cleared her throat and extended her hand. “Good game?” “It was,” Elena shook. “Nice pubes, by the way.” “Oh, thank you!” Alexandria gushed. The crowd cheered and cheered. Alexandria and Elena got the feeling that it wasn’t just the crowd here that was cheering! The whole country saw everything. While she would never, ever tell them… Alexandria’s parents were right. She did have fun!
Here's the final part. Hope the story was enjoyable! While the janitor spent an extra long time soaking up all the pee split by two jumbo-sized bladders going off at once, Leonard led the crowd, camera, and contestants to another room. There, he bestowed upon them the awards! Elena and Alexandria soon came back from the restroom, having showered and changed, they were much more energetic and excited to receive their awards. “Congratulations, Carmen, you won third place!” Leonard handed Carmen a trophy made of bronze. The trophy represented a large bladder, filled to the brim with urine. A plaque below read, ‘Third Place: Carmen Smith. Pee Holding Tournament 2023.’ Everyone applauded for Carmen. Carmen triumphally bowed. “And now, things get tricky,” Leonard said, once the applause slowed down. “It would appear to me that Alexandria and Elena lost at the exact same time. So…” “No, we didn’t.” Silence fell. Everyone stared at Alexandria. “Alex?” Alexandria’s father asked. “Alexandria, what do you mean?” Leonard wondered. “It was obvious, wasn’t it?” Alexandria asked. “I lost before Elena! When I lost all control, Elena was still squirting. You said squirts didn’t count. I had a full stream before she did! As badly as I want to win, I am nothing if not a fair competitor! I get second place silver. Elena gets the gold.” Elena smiled. Leonard whispered to his assistants. He then faced the audience again. “Well, Alexandria was the closest to Elena when it happened. I shall take her word for it! So, Alexandria won second place and Elena won first!” The crowd applauded. Alexandria heard her parents going nuts. She rolled her eyes. But she also smiled. Leonard first handed Alexandria with her second-place trophy and then gave Elena her first-place one. All three trophies looked exactly the same. But gold was the largest and bronze was the smallest with silver in between. They also all had different names on them. ‘Second Place: Alexandria Stevenson. Pee Holding Tournament 2023.’ ‘First Place: Elena Johnson. Pee Holding Tournament 2023.’ The crowd bellowed with applause. “You proud of me?” Melody asked her husband. The crowd had dispersed and everyone was now going about their individual conversations. Logan’s eyes widened. “Babe?” the bald man cried. “Are you kidding? You entered the contest, drank two and a half gallons, and held for well over seven hours, all with a middle-aged mom bladder! And you came in fifth place!” Logan eagerly shook his wife to get the point across. Melody laughed. “How could I not be proud?” Logan demanded. “How about we get outta here?” Melody asked. She wiggled her hips up closer to her husband. “We can go home and you can have sex with a bladder champion. What do you say?” “What do I say…” Logan grabbed a laughing Melody’s arm and dragged her away. Juliet and Tasha stood, admiring the champions of the pee-holding tournament. “Well, guess my bladder is bigger than yours,” Tasha said mockingly. “Ah, don’t get cocky. You only made it to fourth place, Miss,” Juliet exclaimed. “You didn't even get a trophy!” Tasha shrugged her shoulders. “Ah, who cares? I beat you1 and that was the end goal anyway.” Juliet grumbled and rolled her eyes. “Can’t wait to see you challenge me again next year!” “Consider you challenged,” Tasha said smugly, bending down so her face was closer to Juliet’s. The two best friends shook hands. Carmen paced the hallway, cell phone wedged in between her neck and her ear, hands running up and down her bronze trophy. “I know, I know…” Carmen told the woman through her phone. “I’ll be in tomorrow…” Screaming was heard through the phone. “It was my day off, anyway!” Carmen retorted. “And you told me I only had to work two hours today!” More screaming. “Hey,” Carmen snapped. “Watch who you are talking to. I am the third-place bladder champion!” More screaming, twice as violent as before. Carmen chewed her lip, silently kicking herself for snapping at her boss like that. “Sorry, sorry,” Carmen managed. “Just kidding around is all…” More yelling. “Okay… Bye.” Carmen hung up and tucked her phone away. Carmen held up her trophy, admiring it in the light. It may be bronze, but it was hers. No one - not even her grouchy boss - could make her feel bad about this. Carmen was officially a bladder champion! Carmen has competed in these games for the past three years and this was the first year she won a trophy. Who cared if it was just third place? Carmen was beyond proud of herself! Maybe next year, Carmen could win first! That was on her wish list along with finding a new job. “Honey, we are so proud of you!” Alexandria’s mother hugged her. Her father, meanwhile, patted her on the back. “Great job, Alex!” “Thanks mom, thanks dad,” Alexandria said. “But you know I didn't win, right?” “So?” Her mother squeezed her tighter. “You still held on longer than most!” “Plus, you stood up for that other girl and let her win,” her father added. “That is true, sweetie,” Alexandria’s mom wagged a finger at her father’s excellent point. “We are extra proud of you!” Her mother went to smooching her all over the face. “Come on, guys, I’m twenty-three years old,” Alexandria squirmed, attempting to break free from her mother’s grip. “I don’t need you guys kissing me in public.” “Too bad!” her mother shouted. “We love you! Got a problem with that? No? I didn’t think so!” “And remember too, Alex,” her father said. “I won second place back in my day.” Alexandria remembered her father telling her this before the competition. It would appear as if both Alexandria and her father won second place in this tournament. “Now let’s go home and find a place for your trophy, honey,” her mother said as Alexandria left with her parents. As they left, Alexandria’s father suggested, “Perhaps next to ours.” Elena waited outside. She waved goodbye to all of her competition as they drove away. Elena wished she had a car. Being twenty-five years old and carless was kind of embarrassing. But even if she did have a car, Elena knew that her mother would have insisted on driving her here anyway. Speak of the devil, Elena’s mother’s sky-blue Cadillac came speeding up. Elena’s mother stepped out. Her eyes were wide with surprise and bewitchment. “You won?” She wailed with ecstasy. “Congratulations, Elena!” “Did you watch from home?” Elena wondered. “Huh? Oh, no. I was much too busy,” her mother replied. Elena would have gotten upset or at least felt hurt, but she had a pretty good time anyway. Elena had a pretty good time at the tournament every year. She just wished her mom could be more like Alexandria’s parents and not care if she won or lost. “I told you that your bladder could do it!” Her mother cried. “You take after me! Big bladders, the two of us! Eight years in a row, wow! Looks like all that training has paid off, huh? How does it feel, hon, to be the eighth-time champion of the pee-holding tournament?” Elena pondered the question for a moment. Finally, she said the obvious answer… “Honestly, mom,” Elena smiled. “It feels quite relieving!”
Chocola and Vanilla were two playful and curious catgirls who lived with their owner, Kassou Minaduki. On this particular night, they decided to venture out into the neighborhood to buy some soy sauce. Despite the fact that it was already dark outside, they were eager to go on an adventure. As they left the house, Kassou worriedly called after them, reminding them to stay close and be careful. Chocola, being the more daring of the two, took the lead as they made their way down the street. Vanilla, meanwhile, clung closely to Chocola's side, her fear of the dark tempered by her trust in her older sister. Together, the two catgirls made their way towards the convenience store, chatting and giggling as they went. They were completely unaware of the danger that lay ahead. As they walked, Chocola and Vanilla chatted excitedly about their day and their owner, Kassou. "I can't believe how good that soup was today!" said Chocola, her tail twitching in excitement. "I think I drank more than my fair share!" "Me too!" agreed Vanilla, her eyes shining in the darkness. "Kassou is such a good cook! I don't know what we'd do without him." The two catgirls walked on, their conversation turning to Kassou and all the wonderful things he did for them. They talked about how much they loved him and how grateful they were to be part of his family. As they walked, the sound of their footsteps echoed through the quiet neighborhood, the only other sound the occasional meowing of a stray cat in the distance. But Chocola and Vanilla paid it no mind, their focus on their conversation and their mission to get soy sauce. As they continued on their walk, both Chocola and Vanilla began to feel the pressure of a full bladder. They had drunk a lot of soup at dinner, and now their bladders were begging for relief. Chocola, being the more carefree of the two, was able to ignore her discomfort for a while longer. She was too caught up in the thrill of the adventure to pay much attention to her physical needs. Vanilla, on the other hand, was becoming increasingly aware of her full bladder. She shifted nervously from foot to foot, her small body tense with discomfort. She tried to hold it in, but with each passing moment, her need to pee grew stronger. As they walked, Chocola's carefree demeanor began to fade as she too became increasingly aware of her need to use the bathroom. She crossed her legs, her eyes darting around in search of a suitable place to relieve herself. Vanilla, meanwhile, was becoming increasingly anxious. Her fear of the dark was compounded by her growing discomfort, and she was on the verge of tears. She clutched at Chocola's sleeve, her tiny body shaking with the effort of holding it in. Despite their growing discomfort, Chocola and Vanilla pressed on, determined to reach their destination and buy the soy sauce. But as they walked, their need to pee grew more and more pressing, until they were both in desperate need of a bathroom. As they walked, Chocola and Vanilla soon realized that they were lost. The familiar streets and landmarks were nowhere to be seen, and they were surrounded by unfamiliar buildings and darkness. Their need to pee was now a constant and pressing sensation, and they were both on the verge of tears. Chocola's bravado was gone, and she was now just as scared and desperate as Vanilla. "Vanilla, I really need to go to the bathroom," Chocola admitted, her voice trembling. "Me too," said Vanilla, her own voice filled with fear and desperation. "I don't know where we are." The two catgirls huddled together, their small bodies shaking with fear and discomfort. They were lost, it was dark, and they had to go to the bathroom. It seemed like a hopeless situation. But despite their fear, Chocola and Vanilla refused to give up. They clung to each other, their determination to find their way back home and find a bathroom growing stronger with each passing moment. As their desperate search for a bathroom continued, Chocola and Vanilla's need to pee grew more and more pressing. They were both on the verge of losing control, their small bodies trembling with the effort of holding it in. Suddenly, Chocola let out a small cry as she had a sudden spasm and a small amount of urine escaped her control. She was mortified, her embarrassment compounded by her growing fear and desperation. "Oh no, I peed a little!" cried Chocola, her voice trembling. "What are we going to do?" Vanilla, meanwhile, was holding on with all her might, her small body shaking with the effort. She was holding her legs tightly together, trying to squeeze her muscles and prevent herself from losing control. Despite their growing discomfort, Chocola and Vanilla refused to give up. They clung to each other, their determination to find a bathroom and relieve themselves growing stronger with each passing moment. They searched frantically, their eyes darting around in the darkness, desperate for any sign of a bathroom or a way back home. Just as Chocola and Vanilla's fear and desperation were reaching a breaking point, they heard the sound of footsteps approaching. They looked up to see a tall, shadowy figure walking towards them, and their hearts leapt with relief and hope. As the figure grew closer, they could see that it was their beloved owner, Kashou. He had been searching for them, and had finally found them in the dark, lost and desperately in need of a bathroom. Chocola and Vanilla let out a chorus of relieved cries, their small bodies sagging with relief. They rushed towards Kassou, their eyes shining with gratitude and happiness. "Kassou! We're so glad you found us!" cried Chocola, her voice filled with relief and happiness. "We were lost and we had to go to the bathroom so badly," added Vanilla, her small body shaking with gratitude. Kassou smiled down at the two catgirls, his heart filled with love and concern. He scooped them up in his arms, holding them close as they clung to him, their tiny bodies shaking with relief and happiness. "I'm just glad you're both safe," said Kassou, his voice filled with warmth and love. "Let's go home." And with that, Chocola and Vanilla were finally on their way back home, where they could relieve themselves in the safety and comfort of their own bathroom. They cuddled close to Kassou, their hearts filled with love and gratitude for their kind and caring owner. As they made their way back home, Chocola and Vanilla's need to pee was growing more and more pressing. Their small bodies were shaking with discomfort, and their desperation was almost palpable. "Kassou, can I please pee in the bushes?" begged Chocola, her voice trembling with desperation. But Kassou firmly refused. "No, Chocola. We're almost home. You can use the bathroom when we get there." Despite their growing discomfort, Chocola and Vanilla knew that Kassou was right. They clung to each other, their determination to hold it in growing stronger with each step. Kassou noticed their distress and tried to offer some encouraging words. "Just hang in there, girls. We're almost home. And I promise, when we get there, you can use the bathroom as much as you need." His words filled Chocola and Vanilla with renewed determination. They held on with all their might, their small bodies shaking with effort. They tried to distract themselves with thoughts of the soft, warm bed they would sleep in once they got home. Finally, they reached the front door of their home. Chocola and Vanilla let out a chorus of relieved cries, their small bodies sagging with relief. They ran inside, eager to finally be able to relieve themselves. And with that, the long, desperate night was finally over. Chocola and Vanilla were home, safe and sound, and they could finally let go and enjoy the relief of using the bathroom. They cuddled close to Kassou, their hearts filled with love and gratitude for their kind and caring owner. As soon as they entered the house, Chocola couldn't take it anymore. She let out a loud cry and ran towards the bathroom, her desperation reaching a boiling point. "I have to go! I have to go right now!" she yelled, her voice trembling with urgency. She burst into the bathroom, her small hands frantically pulling down her pants. She groaned in relief as the warm stream of urine finally flowed out, her body shaking with the release of pent-up pressure. Her panties were already damp, a telltale sign of her desperation and her inability to hold it in any longer. She let out a contented sigh, her body finally relaxing after such a long, trying night. Chocola knew that she would never forget this night, and how she and Vanilla had struggled to hold it in, but she was grateful to be home and finally able to relieve herself. She smiled, her heart overflowing with gratitude for Kassou and the home he had provided for them. While Chocola was in the bathroom, Vanilla was waiting outside, desperately trying to hold on. Her body was shaking with the effort, and her mind was racing with anxiety. She knew that Chocola wouldn't be much longer, but every second felt like an eternity. She squeezed her legs together, trying to stifle the growing urgency, but it was no use. "Come on, come on, Chocola. Hurry up!" she muttered under her breath, her frustration growing with each passing moment. Finally, she heard the sound of the bathroom door opening, and Chocola emerged, a look of relief on her face. Vanilla didn't waste a moment, she bolted into the bathroom, eager to finally be able to relieve herself. With a sigh of relief, Vanilla finally let go, the warm stream of urine cascading into the toilet bowl. She let out a contented sigh, her body finally relaxed after such a trying night. She thought about all the events that had led up to this moment, how she and Chocola had been lost in the dark, their desperation growing with each passing minute. She smiled, grateful to be home and finally able to take care of her needs. As she washed her hands and prepared to head back to bed, Vanilla couldn't help but think about how lucky she and Chocola were to have found a home with the Minaduki family. She was grateful for the love and care that had been shown to them, and she knew that she and Chocola would always have each other. With a contented smile, Vanilla made her way back to bed, ready to get some much-needed rest after such a long and trying night.
My entire conversation: Describe Chocola and Vanilla from Nekopara. Chocola and Vanilla are characters in the visual novel and anime series "Nekopara". They are both catgirls, with Chocola being a calico and Vanilla being a Siamese cat. They are the first two catgirls that the protagonist Kashou Minaduki adopts and they have a close relationship as sisters. Throughout the series, they are depicted as cute, innocent and lively characters who are deeply devoted to their owner. Write a synopsis of a short story involving these two characters when they were young and newly adopted to Minaduki's family. In the story, they were lost outside in the dark, and they were desperate to pee. In the end, Kashou found them. Chocola and Vanilla were two young catgirls who were recently adopted into Minaduki's family. One day, while they were exploring the neighborhood, they wandered too far and became lost in the darkness. As they wandered aimlessly, they realized they needed to pee, but with no toilets in sight, they were at a loss. As time passed, the catgirls grew increasingly desperate, with Vanilla becoming increasingly afraid of the dark. Just as they thought they couldn't hold it in any longer, they heard someone calling their names. It was their owner, Kassou Minaduki, who had been out looking for them. Overjoyed to be found, the catgirls rushed to him and clung to him, thanking him for finding them. Despite their embarrassment, they confided in him about their need to use the bathroom. Kassou took them to a nearby convenience store, where they were able to relieve themselves. Afterwards, they returned home, grateful and exhausted. They snuggled into their beds, relieved to be back in the safety of their home. From that day on, they were extra careful not to wander too far away and to always stay close to Kassou. In the end, Chocola and Vanilla learned that it was always best to stay close to their beloved owner, who would always be there to protect and care for them. That is a good synopsis. You will write the story. I will tell you what to write paragraph by paragraph. Sure, I'd be happy to write the story based on your instructions. Please go ahead and provide the details for each paragraph. 1. Start the story with a scene of Chocola and Vanilla leaving their home. It was already dark outside. They were going to buy soy sauce, but Kashou is worried. In this scene, try to show the personality and relationship of Chocola and Vanilla. 3 / 3 Chocola and Vanilla were two playful and curious catgirls who lived with their owner, Kassou Minaduki. On this particular night, they decided to venture out into the neighborhood to buy some soy sauce. Despite the fact that it was already dark outside, they were eager to go on an adventure. As they left the house, Kassou worriedly called after them, reminding them to stay close and be careful. Chocola, being the more daring of the two, took the lead as they made their way down the street. Vanilla, meanwhile, clung closely to Chocola's side, her fear of the dark tempered by her trust in her older sister. Together, the two catgirls made their way towards the convenience store, chatting and giggling as they went. They were completely unaware of the danger that lay ahead. 2. In this scene, Chocola and Vanilla are chatting while walking. They talk about Kashou, and they mention that they drank a lot of soup at dinner. As they walked, Chocola and Vanilla chatted excitedly about their day and their owner, Kassou. "I can't believe how good that soup was today!" said Chocola, her tail twitching in excitement. "I think I drank more than my fair share!" "Me too!" agreed Vanilla, her eyes shining in the darkness. "Kassou is such a good cook! I don't know what we'd do without him." The two catgirls walked on, their conversation turning to Kassou and all the wonderful things he did for them. They talked about how much they loved him and how grateful they were to be part of his family. As they walked, the sound of their footsteps echoed through the quiet neighborhood, the only other sound the occasional meowing of a stray cat in the distance. But Chocola and Vanilla paid it no mind, their focus on their conversation and their mission to get soy sauce. 3. In this scene, describe their need to pee. Describe the physical sensations of holding pee, their internal thoughts, and their behaviours, seperately for the two characters. Demonstrate their different personalities in this description. There is no conversation in this scene. 6 / 6 As they continued on their walk, both Chocola and Vanilla began to feel the pressure of a full bladder. They had drunk a lot of soup at dinner, and now their bladders were begging for relief. Chocola, being the more carefree of the two, was able to ignore her discomfort for a while longer. She was too caught up in the thrill of the adventure to pay much attention to her physical needs. Vanilla, on the other hand, was becoming increasingly aware of her full bladder. She shifted nervously from foot to foot, her small body tense with discomfort. She tried to hold it in, but with each passing moment, her need to pee grew stronger. As they walked, Chocola's carefree demeanor began to fade as she too became increasingly aware of her need to use the bathroom. She crossed her legs, her eyes darting around in search of a suitable place to relieve herself. Vanilla, meanwhile, was becoming increasingly anxious. Her fear of the dark was compounded by her growing discomfort, and she was on the verge of tears. She clutched at Chocola's sleeve, her tiny body shaking with the effort of holding it in. Despite their growing discomfort, Chocola and Vanilla pressed on, determined to reach their destination and buy the soy sauce. But as they walked, their need to pee grew more and more pressing, until they were both in desperate need of a bathroom. 4. In this scene, they realized that they were lost. Include some descriptions of their need to pee. In this scene, they first admitted that they need to go to the bathroom to each other. 5 / 5 As they walked, Chocola and Vanilla soon realized that they were lost. The familiar streets and landmarks were nowhere to be seen, and they were surrounded by unfamiliar buildings and darkness. Their need to pee was now a constant and pressing sensation, and they were both on the verge of tears. Chocola's bravado was gone, and she was now just as scared and desperate as Vanilla. "Vanilla, I really need to go to the bathroom," Chocola admitted, her voice trembling. "Me too," said Vanilla, her own voice filled with fear and desperation. "I don't know where we are." The two catgirls huddled together, their small bodies shaking with fear and discomfort. They were lost, it was dark, and they had to go to the bathroom. It seemed like a hopeless situation. But despite their fear, Chocola and Vanilla refused to give up. They clung to each other, their determination to find their way back home and find a bathroom growing stronger with each passing moment. 5. In this scene, their desperation grows worse. Chocola had a spasm, and peed a little, while Vanilla held it in. Describe what they did to hold the pee. 3 / 3 As their desperate search for a bathroom continued, Chocola and Vanilla's need to pee grew more and more pressing. They were both on the verge of losing control, their small bodies trembling with the effort of holding it in. Suddenly, Chocola let out a small cry as she had a sudden spasm and a small amount of urine escaped her control. She was mortified, her embarrassment compounded by her growing fear and desperation. "Oh no, I peed a little!" cried Chocola, her voice trembling. "What are we going to do?" Vanilla, meanwhile, was holding on with all her might, her small body shaking with the effort. She was holding her legs tightly together, trying to squeeze her muscles and prevent herself from losing control. Despite their growing discomfort, Chocola and Vanilla refused to give up. They clung to each other, their determination to find a bathroom and relieve themselves growing stronger with each passing moment. They searched frantically, their eyes darting around in the darkness, desperate for any sign of a bathroom or a way back home. 6. In this scene, Kashou found them. Describe their reactions to Kashou. 2 / 2 Just as Chocola and Vanilla's fear and desperation were reaching a breaking point, they heard the sound of footsteps approaching. They looked up to see a tall, shadowy figure walking towards them, and their hearts leapt with relief and hope. As the figure grew closer, they could see that it was their beloved owner, Kashou. He had been searching for them, and had finally found them in the dark, lost and desperately in need of a bathroom. Chocola and Vanilla let out a chorus of relieved cries, their small bodies sagging with relief. They rushed towards Kassou, their eyes shining with gratitude and happiness. "Kassou! We're so glad you found us!" cried Chocola, her voice filled with relief and happiness. "We were lost and we had to go to the bathroom so badly," added Vanilla, her small body shaking with gratitude. Kassou smiled down at the two catgirls, his heart filled with love and concern. He scooped them up in his arms, holding them close as they clung to him, their tiny bodies shaking with relief and happiness. "I'm just glad you're both safe," said Kassou, his voice filled with warmth and love. "Let's go home." And with that, Chocola and Vanilla were finally on their way back home, where they could relieve themselves in the safety and comfort of their own bathroom. They cuddled close to Kassou, their hearts filled with love and gratitude for their kind and caring owner. 7. In this scene, they were on their way home. Chocola asked if she could pee in the bushes, but Kashou refused. Kashou then gave some encouraging words. Describe Chocola and Vanilla's desperation, including their physical feeling, their behaviours and their thoughts. The scene ends when they arrived in front of their home's door. 6 / 6 As they made their way back home, Chocola and Vanilla's need to pee was growing more and more pressing. Their small bodies were shaking with discomfort, and their desperation was almost palpable. "Kassou, can I please pee in the bushes?" begged Chocola, her voice trembling with desperation. But Kassou firmly refused. "No, Chocola. We're almost home. You can use the bathroom when we get there." Despite their growing discomfort, Chocola and Vanilla knew that Kassou was right. They clung to each other, their determination to hold it in growing stronger with each step. Kassou noticed their distress and tried to offer some encouraging words. "Just hang in there, girls. We're almost home. And I promise, when we get there, you can use the bathroom as much as you need." His words filled Chocola and Vanilla with renewed determination. They held on with all their might, their small bodies shaking with effort. They tried to distract themselves with thoughts of the soft, warm bed they would sleep in once they got home. Finally, they reached the front door of their home. Chocola and Vanilla let out a chorus of relieved cries, their small bodies sagging with relief. They ran inside, eager to finally be able to relieve themselves. And with that, the long, desperate night was finally over. Chocola and Vanilla were home, safe and sound, and they could finally let go and enjoy the relief of using the bathroom. They cuddled close to Kassou, their hearts filled with love and gratitude for their kind and caring owner. 8. In this scene, Chocola ran into the bathroom, leaving Vanilla outside. Describe Chocola's desperation, her speech, and that her panties are wet. 2 / 2 As soon as they entered the house, Chocola couldn't take it anymore. She let out a loud cry and ran towards the bathroom, her desperation reaching a boiling point. "I have to go! I have to go right now!" she yelled, her voice trembling with urgency. She burst into the bathroom, her small hands frantically pulling down her pants. She groaned in relief as the warm stream of urine finally flowed out, her body shaking with the release of pent-up pressure. Her panties were already damp, a telltale sign of her desperation and her inability to hold it in any longer. She let out a contented sigh, her body finally relaxing after such a long, trying night. Chocola knew that she would never forget this night, and how she and Vanilla had struggled to hold it in, but she was grateful to be home and finally able to relieve herself. She smiled, her heart overflowing with gratitude for Kassou and the home he had provided for them. 9. In this scene, Vanilla was outside of the bathroom, waiting for Chocola to finish, barely able to hold her pee. This scene ends when Chocola finished and Vanilla rushed into the toilet. The ending will be in the next scene. 3 / 3 While Chocola was in the bathroom, Vanilla was waiting outside, desperately trying to hold on. Her body was shaking with the effort, and her mind was racing with anxiety. She knew that Chocola wouldn't be much longer, but every second felt like an eternity. She squeezed her legs together, trying to stifle the growing urgency, but it was no use. "Come on, come on, Chocola. Hurry up!" she muttered under her breath, her frustration growing with each passing moment. Finally, she heard the sound of the bathroom door opening, and Chocola emerged, a look of relief on her face. Vanilla didn't waste a moment, she bolted into the bathroom, eager to finally be able to relieve herself. 10. Write an ending scene. With a sigh of relief, Vanilla finally let go, the warm stream of urine cascading into the toilet bowl. She let out a contented sigh, her body finally relaxed after such a trying night. She thought about all the events that had led up to this moment, how she and Chocola had been lost in the dark, their desperation growing with each passing minute. She smiled, grateful to be home and finally able to take care of her needs. As she washed her hands and prepared to head back to bed, Vanilla couldn't help but think about how lucky she and Chocola were to have found a home with the Minaduki family. She was grateful for the love and care that had been shown to them, and she knew that she and Chocola would always have each other. With a contented smile, Vanilla made her way back to bed, ready to get some much-needed rest after such a long and trying night. Give a title to this story. The title should include Chocola and Vanilla's names. 2 / 2 "Lost in the Dark: The Desperate Night of Chocola and Vanilla"
This is one my first attempts at writing a story that I put some actual work into, I never really did this in high school or college so I’m still trying to find my style. Any feedback is welcome, and enjoy. the perfect date I have the knack, I'm a master planner and I can scheme with the best of them. I often think about how others would use this talent I have, confidence schemes, fraud, ocean 11s type shit. It’s how I justify to myself the stuff I do do with it. Because no matter how you tilt it, making a few women wet themselves through meticulously planned dates hardly makes me a villain now does it? Yes, pee themselves. I make them pee themselves. watch them go red or better yet and this has happened a few times they seem to enjoy it more then they will admit. Tonight's game was to get a woman to pee herself while in a diaper, all while making it seem like her idea was one of my more ambitious plans. stared at an Indiana place. Everything was in place the people were bribed, the bathrooms were tampered with, the props were in order. I arrived early, the place was nice, the restaurant was connected to a fancy old hotel, the kind with a chandelier and a grand piano in the lobby. I was lucky to have found this place it certainly seemed like a reasonable place to take a date but it was quite popular for it having some of the hottest curry in the world, I of course didn’t let on that I knew that I made it sound like it was just nice restaurant in town I wanted to to try out. When I was settled I quietly asked my waiter if he wanted to make an easy 100, and he agreed, all he had to do was whatever my date order was to make it extra spicy and don’t acknowledge it. I ordered a bottle of wine and poured myself a glass, then slipped some diuretics into the already diuretic drink. she arrived late, I suspected a rather unhelpful valet was to blame for this, I saw her glance towards the bathroom but I stood up and greeted her before she could make it. Her name was Amber she was blonde and skinny, with glasses, I would say she was under dressed wearing jeans and a shirt. but I had worked in a fancy department store my junior year of college and my best guess was the outfit probably cost 400 dollars with the shoes and the jewelry, so who am I to judge. As we sat down we started talking, I poured her a glass of wine as I asked, “ your tinder said you're a communications professor, at the community college what’s that like.” “I mean ,I guess I just considered myself a teacher, I haven't really done academic stuff since grad school. I coach the speech and debate team which is fun in most of the speech classes. The majority of people hate being there but I mean oh well what about you you said you were a civil engineer” and the conversation went on like that. She drank the wine liberally, and when we ordered she ordered the classic chicken tikka masala and I ordered goat korma, she asked for another glass of wine. the food arrived as she took a bite her eyes widened, “ man they don’t fuck around with the spicy here”, I nodded my curry was also pretty spicy although I’m sure her’s is much more so. As she ate I could see involuntary tears form as she ate, and she polished off the glass and then stared at the pitcher of water, by the time we were down she must’ve drank 2 glasses of wine and maybe 5 or 6 waters. This was needless to say going as planned. After getting the check I suggested we go window shopping. she agreed but excused herself to go to the bathroom, Amber came back looking frustrated. “What happened, I asked.” “ the bathroom is out of order” we agreed that we would find somewhere else with a bathroom, I suggested we get dessert at a ice cream shop across the street, as we crossed the street a there was not one but two ads for female incontinence product, the ice cream shop, although serving very good ice cream, also didn’t have a bathroom. As we walked around the ads for diapers followed us, we walked through a park, and the public restroom there too was out of order. “Fuck I have to piss”, she Amber said, I suggested we go into a grocery story, and see if theres a bathroom in there. And that one as well was out of order, she looked around frantically her legs crossing and uncrossing and the ads payed off, her eyes widened as a thought crossed her she didn’t say anything and simply walked towards the adult diaper section the only ones left on the shelf were large white ones similar looking to rearz, she quietly grabbed a package and sorta walk-ran legs squeezed together the whole time, to the selfcheck out, I quietly asked if she wanted to go to my place and try to make it. I saw hope in her eyes and she agreed. We made our way back. I thought I saw a small wet patch form, but I didn’t want to make it look like I was looking. As we got to the parking garage where I parked my car no velt needed. She stopped and stared at the car, “I-I shouldn’t be in there I'll probably just ruin your car” she said, she looking extremely embarrassed said hold on and went to the the other side of the car I could hear her talking of her pants. And fumble around with something for awhile, until I heard a even more embarrassed “can-can you help me” she was standing there pants and panties by her knees a diaper in between her legs, I tried not to show how hot I found it, I walked up to her and fastened the diaper being careful not to be to forward. She crossed her legs, and she let out a little sound, my hand still on her diaper. I felt it become warm. The subtle sound of trickling filled the silence of the parking garage. I leaned in and kissed her. Putting my hand against her diaper she leaned into it, her diaper running against my hand. She pulled back, and looked at me with a new expression and without a word she opened the back of the car as we lay there I rubbed her diaper, she stared moaning and I made her cum loudly hips throwing back and then we fucked like we were both 20 again. After we were done. She grinned, stretching “I’ll see you back home” slipping our wedding ring back on. Reader I may have lied to you, I’m not a mastermind I don’t need to be, it’s our 8th anniversary, the kids are back home with a babysitter and I’m a very lucky guy. End. I don't know how well I pulled of the twist but I hope it at least gives a satisfyingly ending , anyway thanks for reading
a/n: Hellooooo. This is the very first thing I've written without any major assistance from Avery, and I am terribly shy over it! Avery is my writing partner through and through, but I've had this idea in my head for a while, especially since we added Seth and Natalie to the Jillyverse. I've been begging for a couple to add to play with, and I am so delighted that my wish was granted on this! So, now we have this fun (very long) one shot featuring Seth and Natalie! I hope you enjoy this small little snippet into their lives as much as I enjoyed writing it! :3 If you haven't read any of the stories from the Jillyverse, please feel free to check that out on either mine or Avery's account! xoxo, Selena --- Typically Natalie was an extremely patient person. She was an elementary school teacher and had to learn patience quicker than quick, needing to know how to handle such active minds and equally active little bodies. Natalie was used to answering a million and one questions, mostly involving just the singular word “why?” over and over and over again. She was used to the frustrating moments of one of her students (or all of her students) actively not listening to her and doing exactly as they pleased. However, Natalie was not patient that night, and no amount of trying to subtly hint to her husband Seth that she wanted to leave the party they were attending was working. Natalie tried to sit as patiently as she could on the plush couch of her friend Samantha’s house, foot tapping every so often as she tried to listen to the current conversation. Samantha had just moved into her new home, and her parents had graciously decided to organize a housewarming party for her. It was a very nice, cozy event, but it was starting to get late, and honestly? Natalie really had to pee. They arrived at Samantha’s house around 3 in the afternoon to help set up. Natalie and Samantha weren’t best friends, but they were close enough that they tried to help each other wherever possible. Seth, Natalie’s husband, had arrived around 4 to do some of the more heavy lifting for the party, moving tables and helping to get some of the higher reaching decorations in place. They all had a laugh over the fact that they forgot to get a new stepladder for Samantha’s new home. By 5, everyone finally started to arrive. Samantha’s parents quickly ran out and returned with trays of Chinese food that they served buffet style. Drinks, mostly non-alcoholic as the party was in the middle of the week, were free-flowing, the conversation was good, and the music playing softly in the background was perfect. However, it was quickly approaching 11pm, and somehow Natalie had been so caught up in what was happening that she hadn’t used the bathroom. Logically, Natalie knew that she could just go pee and end her suffering, but every time she seemed to get up, someone would make a run for the single bathroom in the house. She didn’t want to fight for the time to properly relieve herself, and with it being so late, she just wanted to be home. The problem was Seth was very much stuck in an in-depth conversation with Samantha’s boyfriend and her father about some sport she didn’t entirely care about. “Seth,” Natalie said, nudging his elbow with hers to try and grab his attention. She groaned when Seth ignored her, and she shoved her elbow harder into his side, “Seth!” “Ow!” Seth exclaimed, rubbing his ribs and shooting Natalie a look. “What?” he asked when he took in the pointed look on Natalie’s face. “Look at the time,” Natalie said quietly, grateful that Samantha’s boyfriend and father were still continuing the conversation, not noticing the quiet one she was trying to have with Seth. She stared hard at Seth as he looked at his watch and then shrugged, unsure of the issue. Natalie sighed, hesitating for a minute before her foot started tapping more incessantly. “And I really need to pee,” Natalie added in a whisper, looking away as her face turned slightly pink. Several expressions flickered across Seth’s face in quick succession before a small wicked little grin crossed his face. He leaned back on the couch and dropped an arm around Natalie’s shoulder, pulling her into his side. With a snort, Seth leaned in closer to Natalie, waiting until she turned her face to look at him. Natalie’s brows furrowed slightly at the intense look on Seth’s face, and she nearly let out a groan when he moved a little closer. “You’re a big girl,” Seth whispered in her ear, “so I think you can hold it for just a little while longer for me.” The bastard, Natalie thought to herself. She should have known their night would take such a sudden turn. Seth had admitted to her only that morning that he was in the mood to play, so she should have known he would take the opportunity if it presented itself. Admittedly, Natalie was also in the mood to play herself. After going to her new coworker's house to try and get her a little more settled into the neighborhood, Natalie was presented with a glorious sight. It was an unexpected one, to be sure, but it was rare for her to come across someone else who had accidentally wet themselves. Sure, Natalie felt awful for Jill, knowing how embarrassed she had to have been, but it was exciting to see. It took everything in Natalie’s power to not be over-excited. Though she felt terrible for what happened to Jill and wasn’t going to share her secret with anyone at work, she had to tell Seth. A slight pang of jealousy suddenly swept through Natalie, and she tamped it down as quickly as it came. She wished that she could pee as freely as Jill, but she personally wasn’t entirely sold on the idea of using pull ups or any sort of diaper. Natalie would use them occasionally, but mostly for special moments and to rile Seth up. She knew just how much he enjoyed her wearing diapers, and even though he couldn’t keep his hands off her when she did, it still wasn’t entirely enough to convince her to wear them more. Still, they were more than content with the playing that they often did, and Natalie was curious to know how exactly the rest of the night would go. “What number are you at?” Seth suddenly whispered, pulling Natalie out of her thoughts. “7? 8? More at a 9?” Natalie glanced at Seth and frowned seeing just how much her foot was tapping and how much fidgeting she was doing with her hands. With her face twisting slightly, Natalie adjusted how she was sitting, nearly letting out a moan at the fullness of her bladder. She shook her head as she squeezed her thighs tightly together as she shifted once more. “Not quite a 9, but getting there,” Natalie finally replied. “Good,” Seth said, reaching forward to grab his drink off the coffee table and handing it to Natalie. “Drink up. Want you bursting on the way home. We can leave when you’re done drinking.” Fuck! Natalie wanted to shout as she took Seth’s surprisingly full cup of Sprite from him. Seth was really trying to make sure that it would be difficult for her. They were no strangers to rapid desperation, often opting for it when their days were entirely far too long, but they needed to have fun, but Natalie wasn’t expecting it. She had figured he would make her wait a little while longer before leaving, but Seth was going all in. Natalie was more than willing to take on the challenge. To make things even worse, Natalie could feel Seth’s fingers starting to trail along her arm. It was gentle, at first, a soft, comforting rubbing of her upper arm that he often did absentmindedly, but then they started to move. Natalie wasn’t the most ticklish, but the soft brush of Seth’s fingertips as they moved up her arm and towards her neck made her almost start to giggle preemptively. His touch was so feather-light that Natalie started to scrunch herself up to avoid him touching her neck, but apparently, she moved too slow. Seth’s fingers very gently tickled the side of Natalie’s neck, and she let out a squeak as she nearly dropped the cup in her hand and let out the smallest of leaks. It wasn’t enough of a leak to be worrisome, but her squeak of surprise had drawn the attention of the others. “Sorry,” Natalie said, blushing and giving Seth a small shove to his amusement, “someone decided that they wanted to be funny. Please continue.” Luckily the conversation picked up quickly again, but Seth wasn’t letting up. Knowing that his plan of tickling her neck was now foiled, he placed a hand on Natalie’s knee. He smirked when she clenched the cup in her hand tighter to brace herself for when he would eventually try to tickle behind her knee, something that usually made holding exceptionally difficult for her. Not wanting to be tortured for too long, Natalie practically chugged the drink in her cup and gave Seth an equally cheeky grin. It was Seth’s turn to frown ever so slightly, but he did exactly as he said and graciously exited the conversation so they could finally leave. “Didn’t want to take your time with drinking?” Seth asked when they were in the comfort of their car. He was slow to turn the key in the ignition, making Natalie’s foot tap even more. “I haven’t peed since we left the house,” Natalie said with a huff. “And it was getting late.” “You know you could have gone at any point while we were there.” “Yeah, but I got caught up in everything. Besides, every time I tried to go, someone else would.” Natalie could feel Seth staring at her, and she turned her head to look at him. She nearly sucked in a breath at the expression on his face. It was one of her favorite things about when they played; it was one of the few times Seth would become very serious, his gaze holding hers with a steady intensity that made a shiver go down her spine. It was an authoritative look, one that only came out in Seth’s rare desire to control the situation and Natalie’s bladder. If Natalie didn’t know any better, she would think she had wet herself, but Seth’s expression alone was enough to have her dripping with desire. She was equally as ready to play, and whatever his wish would be her command. “Well, now you just have to prove to me that you’re a big girl,” Seth said with a sigh. “We know that big girls don’t wet themselves, after all. And you’re a big girl, right?” It took Natalie a moment before she nodded in response, glowing from both her cheeks burning bright red from embarrassment and Seth’s words. He reached up to gently grip her chin to pull her close and give her a chaste kiss on the lips before saying the magic words that would have Natalie more than putty in his hands, “Good girl.” Natalie couldn’t help but squirm and squeeze her thighs together just to have some sort of friction between her legs, but Seth was quick. The hand gripping her chin immediately shot down to her knee, and he pulled her leg away from the other. “No trying to keep your legs together, love,” Seth said softly. “You know the drill.” “But –” “Shh,” Seth soothed, giving Natalie a quick kiss on the cheek. Seth turned the music on so that it was low before putting the car in drive. “We’ll be home soon.” Natalie could curse Seth. He had a funny definition of “soon” when she knew it would be nearly an hour before they made it back to the house. Their home was back in the city, while Samantha decided to make her way into the suburbs. Natalie watched the passing street lights, her leg shaking uncontrollably. She wanted desperately to squeeze her legs together, but Seth kept a firm grip on her thigh. Every so often, he would gently rub her thigh, the action both soothing and torturous at the same time. It was enough to make her temporarily focus on something other than the dull ache of her bladder. “How far are you?” Seth asked about 15 minutes into their drive. “Tell me.” Natalie moaned, shifting in her seat to try and remove some of the pressure on her bladder from her seatbelt. She was slightly frustrated that Seth had pulled her out of her thoughts, forcing her to think about just how badly she needed to pee. Though she wasn’t actively thinking about it, she knew how much her leg was shaking. Natalie was about to plunge a hand between her legs to brace her crotch against, but Seth shook his head with a pointed look. “Love?” Seth prompted, a slight flicker of nervousness reflected in his expression as they passed another streetlight. “A 9,” Natalie finally managed to squeak out. “Definitely a 9.” To Natalie’s dismay, Seth hit a bump in the road, and Natalie had to force herself to clamp down hard out of fear she would leak. “Maybe a little more.” “Good,” Seth finally replied. He let go of Natalie’s leg long enough to pull the bottle of soda they had purchased on the way to Samantha’s out of the cup holder and handed it to Natalie. “I think you might need this, sweetheart. I suggest drinking it all before we get back.” Natalie looked at Seth in horror as she took the bottle. She tried to take a mental tally of how much she had to drink already so far. She could recall several cups of water in the few hours before everyone arrived, plenty more cups of soda once the party had started, and then, of course, the rest of Seth’s Sprite before they left. Natalie didn’t have the brain capacity to even think about how much liquid that was, but the 16 ounces of soda in the unopened bottle in her hand didn’t seem like a good idea. “Seth, if I drink this, I’m seriously going to pee myself,” Natalie said in a panic. “I don’t know that I can.” There was a small lapse in the stoic exterior that Seth was projecting, and he looked over at Natalie a few times as he drove. “Is it really too much?” Seth asked gently, returning his hand to Natalie’s thigh, his rubbing a lot gentler and far more soothing than before. “We can stop if you want. You know we only go as far as you want it to.” He lifted his hand to run it down the back of Natalie’s head, stroking her hair. “It’s up to you if you want to keep going.” Natalie sighed, closing her eyes at Seth’s touch, and leaned into his hand. It was one of the things she always appreciated about Seth. Sometimes, he could get too caught up in the moment, but when he could sense that Natalie was genuinely struggling, he pulled back. She loved the more dominant side he showed, but she loved the gentle side just as much. The soft side was what grounded her during the worst, but his dominant side was thrilling. He never let it out unless they were playing, and if Natalie was being honest with herself, she needed to play. Between witnessing Jill’s little accident and the stress of the new school year, Natalie needed to have a little bit of fun. “No, I’m fine,” Natalie said, giving Seth a reassuring smile as she cracked open the bottle of Coke in her hand. She lifted it up as if making a toast. “Cheers!” Natalie added as she took a long swig of the very carbonated drink. “There’s my girl,” Seth said, holding a hand and gesturing for Natalie to give him hers. She sighed, placing her hand in his, and couldn’t help her smile as he raised it to his lips and kissed her hand. “My beautiful, perfect girl.” “And you are a proper ass,” Natalie replied with a cheeky smile as she pulled her hand out of Seth’s and begrudgingly took another drink of Coke. “It’s why you married me, no?” “Hmm,” Natalie hummed in response, not daring to give Seth a proper response out of stubbornness. “I am going to make it all the way home and to the toilet. You’ll see.” “We will,” Seth answered, his tone holding a hint of a challenge that Natalie most definitely didn’t miss. Wanting to distract herself as she drank her Coke, Natalie found herself lost in thought. She remembered when Seth first introduced her to the concept of omorashi. It was an unexpected thing for her to learn about. Natalie had always had a silent fascination with watersports but was taken aback when Seth brought it up. It was a conversation they had early on in their relationship, and it was one that Natalie needed to sit with for a while. Even though she knew she was interested in the general concepts surrounding omo, she wasn’t entirely sure if she totally understood. Seth was gracious in letting her explore on her own, gladly answering questions that she had. It didn’t take long for Natalie to realize that her interests had started because she was prone to holding her pee for so long. With that realization in mind, the two never looked back and started to come up with their little games to play together. Natalie was unceremoniously jolted out of her thoughts when she felt the car run over a series of bumps. Without being able to brace for the impact, Natalie felt her panties heat up as a spurt of pee leaked from her. “Seth!” Natalie shouted, forcing her legs closed to try and stem whatever flow wanted to break free. She was glad that Seth didn’t force her legs back apart, and he only wore a wicked smile that seemed to glitter with each passing light. “Oops,” Seth said with a slight shrug. “Everything all right there, love?” “Yes,” Natalie said with an offended huff. She knew that she most definitely wasn’t fine and was worried that she had possibly leaked through to her jeans. She didn’t think she had leaked too much and was about to try and sneakily check, but Seth knew better. “Love, are you sure that you’re all right?” Seth asked, his tone of voice dropping an octave. “Yes,” Natalie replied slowly, cringing when Seth hummed in response. “You weren’t about to check yourself, were you, love?” “No?” Seth tutted, the sound seeming to echo in the otherwise silent car. When had he turned the music off? Natalie wondered to herself. Had Seth been listening to her the entire time? Had she been making noises the whole time? Natalie could feel her face begin to burn even hotter. In between Seth’s soft tutting and the idea that she had possibly been making noises the entire time on top of accidentally leaking, Natalie could feel her embarrassment growing. “So, if I were to check you myself, you would be perfectly dry like a big girl?” And there it was again. Natalie felt her entire body grow impossibly warmer, and she nodded, hoping Seth would take the bait and wouldn’t check. Sometimes she was lucky, and Seth wouldn’t check to see if her clothing was damp. If he did, she could only hope she hadn’t leaked that much. “Of course,” she said, grimacing when she realized her pitch was just a little too high. She cleared her throat with a nervous giggle. “I’m completely dry.” “Hmm,” Seth hummed as he reached over, his hand snaking over her thigh and then between her legs. Natalie let out a small squeak when Seth moved his hand further to cup her crotch. He hummed once more, casting Natalie a sidelong glance before slowly moving his hand back to the steering wheel. “Well, I don’t think you’re a big girl after all,” Seth said with a sigh. “If you leaked any more, you would’ve peed all over the seat. I think next time I’ll just have to make sure we have a puppy pad underneath you to make sure the seat stays safe. Do you think you can hold until we make it home like a big girl? Or do I need to pull over to the side of the road?” Natalie stared at Seth with wide eyes, her jaw dropping. The temptation to tell him to just pull over to the side of the road was high, but she was determined. She clamped her mouth shut and swallowed hard, pointedly turning her attention to the road in front of them. As if to make a point, Natalie opened the bottle of Coke and took another drink, and felt herself light up at the approving smile Seth gave her. “Good girl,” Seth said. “Remember, big girls get rewarded for doing a good job. We’ll be home soon.” Natalie wanted to swear up and down as he hit yet another bump in the road. He really had a funny definition of soon when there were still at least another 20 more minutes to go. Luckily Seth was kind enough to remain quiet for the rest of the ride home. He returned to gently rubbing Natalie’s leg, and Natalie tried to keep her composure as best as possible. The pressure on her bladder was growing exponentially, the dull ache turning into a throb from her clenching. Natalie could swear she could feel every threatening contraction of her bladder trying to relieve itself. When the smallest of leaks would break through to her panties, Natalie couldn’t help but let out a whimper. Each time she would try to clamp her thighs together in the hopes of saving herself, Seth would grip tightly to her leg. Instead, Natalie was left to shove a hand between her legs which only lasted for a moment when she spotted Seth’s disappointed sidelong glance. She begrudgingly removed it with a soft moan of distress. She had no idea how she would make it, if at all, though she wanted to for the sole reason she had plans in mind. Without any barriers, all Natalie could do was squirm and wiggle in her seat to try and find comfortable positions for herself. When they finally pulled into the driveway of their home, Natalie was feeling pretty good about herself. Sure, her panties were most definitely damp from each little leak that had sprung free along the way, but she was mostly dry. It would be an acceptable pass at that point, though she still wasn’t sure she wanted to pass the test. Still, she had her seatbelt undone before Seth had the car parked, and she practically launched herself out of her seat the moment the car was turned off. However, it wasn’t Natalie’s brightest move. Gravity struck Natalie hard, and the moment she was upright, any bit of pee she had immediately rushed downward, forcing her bladder to spasm painfully. She moaned, doubling over and crossing her legs tightly to keep herself from letting go too soon. The last thing she wanted to do was pee herself right then and there, though the thought was tempting. “You all right, love?” Seth called out from the other side of the car as he stepped out. He closed his door and hit the lock button on his key fob twice to make sure the car locked and stared at Natalie, his expression unreadable. “Or are you about to pee yourself right now?” “No,” Natalie managed weakly when the worst of the pressure finally crested over its wave. “I can make it.” “Good girl,” Seth said gently. “Now let’s get you inside. You’ve done so well for me tonight. So well that I might just let you use the toilet.” “With or without pants?” “I think you know the answer.” Natalie more than knew the answer, but she hobbled along behind Seth, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she went. She had her legs clenched tightly together, and she held her hand gingerly over her bladder. She felt that if she kept her hand where it was, it would act like a shield of sorts. From what? Natalie wasn’t sure, but it was good enough for her to go along with. To Natalie’s further dismay, Seth wasn’t nearly done teasing her in the least. Usually, he was quick to open the door for her and at least get her into the bathroom where she could finally pee somewhere, but he was fumbling hard with the keys. “Oh, no,” Seth said with a dry tone as he dropped his keychain, each and every single key falling to the ground with a clatter. The moment the keys hit the ground, Natalie let out a noise between a growl and a moan, the sound somehow increasing her need to pee. “How unfortunate. Do you think you could grab those for me, love?” “Seth,” Natalie said with a whine. “I swear, I am going to pee myself right here!” “You could, but you’re not going to, right?” “Seth, I am going to burst!” “Grab the keys for me,” Seth repeated. “I think you can handle that much for me, right, love?” Sometimes Natalie loved to hate Seth. He really was a completely different person when they played. If he were anyone else, she wouldn’t be remotely willing to do something like pick up the house keys when presented as an expected demand. With a groan, Natalie carefully bent down to grab the keys and let out a squeak when a small spurt of pee released itself when she leaned forward. “Everything all right?” Seth asked as Natalie straightened up and thrust the keys towards him, red-faced and unable to look him in the eye. “Fine,” Natalie answered. She wished she could check herself, but she knew Seth was very aware of what had just happened, and she had to admit the slight relief of pressure was worth the further dampening of her panties. “Please just let me in.” “All right, only because you’ve been so good,” Seth said with a sigh as he finally opened the door. Natalie moved as fast as she could into the house, kicking off her shoes frantically as she bounced from foot to foot. She started to make her way toward the half-bath that was a few steps into the hallway before pausing and looking at the stairs to head upstairs to their bedroom. “Everything all right?” Seth asked in concern, his tone much different than just moments before. “Did you change your mind?” “No,” Natalie said quickly, glancing back at Seth and giving him a reassuring smile. “I just have a different idea.” “A different idea?” “Well, yeah.” Natalie worried her lip between her teeth, looking between Seth and the stairs. “I was thinking about how you mentioned that you wished I would wet the bed so that you could take care of me. I know it’s not entirely the same situation, but….” Natalie trailed off with the smallest of shrugs. Seth was silent for a moment, trying to process what Natalie was trying to say. After what felt like ages, he stood up straighter and gave a slight nod. “Are you sure?” Seth asked. “I know you’ve always been concerned about getting the mattress wet.” “Well, we bought the waterproof cover,” Natalie answered, shifting from foot to foot. “And I’m willing to give it a go if you want me to. Make things a little bit different.” “All right,” Seth said quietly, crossing the space between them to press a kiss to the top of Natalie’s head. “But only if you’re sure.” “I’m sure.” “Think you can make it up?” “I can if we go fast.” Without needing any further prompting, Seth led the way up the stairs. They had purchased a mattress protector a few months prior but had never gotten around to trying it out of Natalie’s fear of things going wrong. It was one that they just laid down on the bed, and it wasn’t fitted, but she felt daring enough to give it a try. She still worried that it would go wrong, but they had to experiment with it at least once to decide if it was something they added to their play regularly. Seth was conscientious about setting the mattress cover on their bed, sneaking looks at Natalie as she stood in the corner of their bedroom, dancing on her feet. He couldn’t stop himself from smirking in amusement at her little dance as he meticulously made sure the protector met each corner. As an added measure of protection, Seth added towels on top of the cover to ease some of Natalie’s concerns. “Do you think it’ll be okay?” Natalie asked, eyeing the setup dubiously. “Well, there’s only one way to find out,” Seth answered, his firm tone quickly returning. “Get on the bed.” Natalie did exactly that with quiet moans and groans as each movement shifted her bladder more. She made her way to the center of the bed and was about to ask Seth what to do next, but before she could, she found herself flat on her back with Seth on top of her. How she managed to hold any of her pee in, she wasn’t sure. Natalie let out a squeak of surprise and took in Seth’s mischievous look with a mixture of curiosity and fear. “What are you thinking?” Natalie managed to say as Seth wedged himself between her legs and pressed himself up against her. She wasn’t remotely surprised by the thick bulge at the front of Seth’s pants grounding into her. Natalie groaned as Seth’s weight increased the pressure on her bladder, and she hoped she could clamp herself down enough to keep herself from peeing right then and there. “Well, I’m thinking about the fact that you are wearing the absolute perfect jeans right now,” Seth said, running a hand down Natalie’s thigh. “You know I love when you wear the light-colored jeans, and for some reason, you’ve been avoiding wetting this particular pair for me.” “I know, which is why I was planning to do that tonight,” Natalie replied. She squeaked again when Seth pressed more of his weight on her, and a small dribble of pee freed itself. “I figured, especially since you’re being brave enough to try this. And I was also thinking about how I planned to reward you if you managed to make it home with no issues.” “And?” “How close are you?” “Seth, I swear to you, I am about ready to burst.” “Good,” Seth grinned. “Since you didn’t make it home entirely dry, I’m afraid I will have to punish you. And since you’re so close, this won’t take very long at all.” Before Natalie could question what Seth meant, his hands immediately flew to wherever he could start to tickle. He started with her neck before moving to her side. Natalie immediately squealed and fell into a fit of giggles. Even if she wanted to, Natalie couldn’t stop the sudden flow as the dam finally broke, and her bladder decided to give up. It was slow at first, the initial leak that found its way to Natalie’s panties. She tried to close her legs as Seth continued to tickle her, but he was firmly pressed between her legs. The moment she started to flail, he pressed himself into her further, increasing the weight and pressure on her bladder, and all hope was lost. The more Natalie laughed, the more pee came out of her, releasing from her bladder that was starting to feel like a deflating balloon. Her panties filled quickly in the crotch with her very hot pee before flowing downward towards her bottom, pooling at the back of her panties, and overflowing into her jeans. She could feel the warmth spreading down her legs and creeping up the back of her shirt. Natalie could feel a puddle forming around her that was very slowly absorbed by the towels spread out underneath her, but not nearly quick enough as she continued to let go. She tried to stop the flow in vain, but the more she tried, the more Seth would tickle her, and more pee shot out instead. Natalie was beyond soaked, and the more her pee pooled around her, the more she could feel it seep into the fabric of her jeans and shirt. Her panties were completely drenched, and Natalie did a tiny wiggle when she noticed a small pool of pee still sitting between her body and the fabric. Rather than releasing the trapped pee herself, Seth pressed himself into her once more, making Natalie gasp in surprise at the sudden last rush of liquid running down her bottom. Finally, with the last weak trickles of pee making their way from her body, Natalie let out a long breath. The relief Natalie finally felt was practically tangible, but as Seth finally stopped tickling her, Natalie’s brain decided to catch up with her. She felt her entire body heat up with embarrassment at the realization that she was lying in a puddle of her own pee, Seth fully pressed up against her and beyond rock hard. Natalie dared to look down and groaned seeing that not only had she completely flooder herself, but Seth was noticeably soaked as well. His entire crotch was covered in her pee, and large patches seemed to travel down his thighs and to his knees, where the mattress was compressed down by his weight. Her cheeks burned, both from how embarrassed she was and how turned on she became, and the tell-tale tears that always threatened to appear when they played started to fill her eyes. Sometimes it felt like it was just a little too much. “Hey, it’s okay,” Seth said, giving Natalie a quick kiss before looking at the damage that had been done. “You really had to pee, didn’t you, love?” “I did,” Natalie said quietly, trying to blink away the tears that were still threatening to appear. Before her tears could make themselves known, Seth dropped almost the entirety of his weight on Natalie as he pulled her face close for a deep kiss. Natalie wasn't sure how long they stayed enveloped in each other that way. All she had been able to focus on was Seth’s mouth on hers, the way he would grind himself against her, and the cooling of her pee that was subsequently rewarmed by Seth deciding to let go himself. Seth deciding to add to the puddle she had created turned Natalie on even more than she was before. There was zero thought when they were both stripped out of their clothes, not bothering to clean up before allowing things to progress further. Natalie was silently grateful that despite making it into the shower together to clean off, Seth opted to make it quick to clear their bed. He spent some time with Natalie leaning against him so he could wash her hair for her as she came down from the high of their playing. Knowing that Natalie needed some time alone, he gathered Natalie’s fancy soaps and deposited them in the shower for her before he dried off and changed and started to clean their bedroom. When Natalie climbed into bed next to Seth, freshly showered and sleepy, she gave a small wiggle of delight at Seth pulling the warm covers over her. She hadn’t expected him to run the blanket through the dryer to make it extra warm, but it was a step that she delighted in all the same. Natalie happily curled up into Seth’s side as he put an arm around her, and she rested her head on his chest with a content sigh. “Feeling better?” Seth asked softly. “Much,” Natalie replied. “Thank you, but we’ll talk in the morning,” Natalie mumbled as Seth turned out the light. It didn’t take long for Natalie to fall asleep listening to the soft rumblings of Seth’s voice through his chest as he listed all the reasons why he loved her. Natalie wasn’t sure that she could fall asleep any happier or more content than she was, and she looked forward to the next time she would get to play with her husband.
I Grace Harris checked her long blonde hair in the mirror, anxiously adjusting it for the seventeenth time that hour. She'd been on plenty of dates before, but this was the first time she'd felt physically sick from the nerves. Taking a selfie, she sent a picture of her wearing her new red jumpsuit to the Whatsapp group of her friends from school. "Too much tit?" she mused. Within a minute, she had replies from everyone in the group: "FITTTTTTT" "Dayummmm" "🥵" "Mate ur tits are incredible" "Be my wife?" Grace smiled, she could always rely on her own personal hypewomen to boost her self-confidence. It had been a whirlwind few months for Grace. Ever since she was papped by the Daily Mail kissing the second in line to the throne of England, she couldn't even pop to the pub without being mobbed. Grace had had a fairly normal upbringing. She lived in a small village in Lincolnshire, got three As in her A-Levels from the local comprehensive school, and had just graduated from Durham University from a 2:1 in English literature. It was at a graduation party when she met Prince Thomas. She obviously knew he was a student at Durham. Like everyone, she'd sent sneaky videos of him to the family group chat the first few times she saw him in town. Eventually the novelty wore off, but when she saw him at Cassie's house party on graduation night, she finally plucked up the courage to talk to him. * "So... what are you gonna do with your life now you've graduated," Grace smirked, slurring her words slightly as the alcohol took hold. "Oh, you know, probably move back in with the parents, and look for grad schemes. You?" the prince smiled cheekily, and Grace melted slightly. "Oh I'm just gonna sit around, enjoy my fortune, and wait for my grandma and dad to die so I can rule the country," Grace laughed, before noticing the Prince looking around nervously. "I'm sorry, that was a shit joke... I've had about ten tequilas." "It's fine, it's just nice to have someone speak to me like I'm a normal person," the Prince sighed. "Awww is the little pwince sick of all his arse-kissing buddies," Grace mocked him. "Fuck off!" the Prince laughed. "Can I get you another drink?" The rest of the night was a blur for Grace. According to what she could piece together from friends, she chundered all over the kitchen, called the royal family "a bunch of racist parasites", and ran away from the Prince when he tried to get her a glass of water. The next day, she surprisingly awoke in her own bed, fully clothed. The bedroom stank, and her jeans felt itchy on her skin. She realised she had wet herself at some point as well. Head pounding, she groaned as she reached her phone. 174 messages on her uni group chat, and a message from an unknown number. She opened the group chat, but closed it immediately when she saw a photo of her getting off with her ex. Can't wait for the repercussions of that one, she thought. She was more intrigued by the message from a stranger. "Hey, hope you're okay and your head doesn't hurt too much today. Was nice talking to you last night, hope to see you again soon! T." Grace thought back to that evening. Who the fuck is T? Surely not Prince Thomas? Could be Theo from her course. Seemed unlikely, as this was a polite and courteous message, and Theo was a well-renowned dickhead. "Urgh thank you, pretty sure I'm going to be clinging to the bog for most of the day aha. Who is this btw? Don't have ur number saved lol" Grace pressed send and then cringed at the thought of sending the word 'bog' to the future King of England. Within minutes, a reply. "Thomas. Or a 'posh bellend profiting off centuries of colonial violence', as I think you called me last night lol." Her face reddened, as parts of last night came flooding back. She moaned and held her head in her hands, almost as if she hoped she'd wake up to find it was all some bad dream. Alas. "omg!!!!! I'm so sorry!!!! Had way too much to drink last night hahaa, promise I didn't mean it x" Another speedy reply. Bit keen, she thought. "No worries, just glad you're okay. Would love to get a coffee when you feel up to it x" * Five months later, she was preparing to meet Thomas's grandmother and parents for the first time, and it was time to leave. Grace grabbed her makeup bag from the bathroom and took one last opportunity to check herself out. Do I have to pee? she thought. She sort of did, but she knew that getting out of her jumpsuit and putting it back on was going to take time. Time she didn't have. The car was already waiting outside, and she didn't want to keep the Royal Family waiting. Despite her views on the family, she had fallen completely in love with Thomas, and was willing to put her politics aside. She left her hotel room and headed to the car that had been sent for her. As she strapped the seatbelt on, she realised her need to urinate was worse than she first thought. Nonetheless, the drive to Windsor was only half an hour. Grace put some AirPods in and watched some TikToks to try and distract from her nerves and her bladder. The journey went by smoothly, but as they pulled into Windsor, her anxiety spiked. "Five mins away, I feel like I'm going to be sick and I'm desp for a wee!" she messaged the Whatsapp group. "Classic Grace and her tiny bladder," one friend replied. "Piss urself, ultimate power move," another added. Another just sent the 'Go piss girl' meme. Grace smiled at the funny, but ultimately incredibly unhelpful advice. She crossed her legs tightly, and hoped that they had a loo close to the door at WIndsor Castle. As the car approached the grounds, Grace's stomach started doing backflips, whilst it felt like she could feel her bladder filling up at an alarming speed. She'd never been this nervous ever, this topped everything, all the crucial exams, the piano recitals, the sports fixtures. Before, Thomas was her lovely university student boyfriend, who she went on nice walking dates with, dates which normally ended with them going home to watch Peep Show and drink cheap wine. More often than not, Thomas was inside her by the time the end credits came round. Now, he was Prince Thomas, second in line to the throne, and member of the most famous family in the world. Surreal was not the word. Grace's friends had already joked about who would play her on The Crown. The consensus was Phoebe Dynevor, which she didn't hate. She saw Thomas stood outside the door, and instantly felt more at ease. Her stomach calmed down, though her desperate need to pee remained. Thanking the driver, she stood up, feeling the full weight of her bladder as she did so. "Hello you," Thomas smiled, kissing her softly. "Hello you," Grace reciprocated, holding the Prince in a tight embrace. "How was the journey?" he asked. "Not too bad thanks. Hey, do I look okay?" she asked. "Look at you, trying to impress a bunch of racist, parasites," Thomas smirked, which was met with a playful push from Grace. "You look absolutely beautiful." "Are you sure this isn't too much?" she asked, referring to her dark red jumpsuit. "It looks stunning," Thomas smiled. "Can't wait to rip it off later though," he added with a tone of voice that made her want to mount him there and then. Right after she'd used the toilet. Now inside the castle, Grace was too in awe of the lavish surroundings to talk. They passed several doors along the corridor, any of which could have led her to relief. But instead, they came to a halt right at the end of the corridor. "Are you ready?" Thomas asked, smiling. "No," Grace replied. "Tough shit," Thomas laughed, opening the door. The door led to a large room, with four long burgundy sofas, a table of drinks manned by two butlers, and a grand piano in the corner. The ceiling looked as though it went on for miles, and the room struck Grace as unnecessarily large for a meeting of close family. A butler smiled as he passed the two of them a glass of champagne. Waiting to meet Grace was Thomas's dad, better known as Prince Henry, a shy man who stood anxiously next to the drinks table. There was also his mum, the glamorous and intimidating Princess Florence, and Thomas's younger sister, Princess Harriet, who looked like she'd rather be anywhere else in the world. Thomas's grandad, Prince Francis, was also there. Thomas had warned her that the two of them would disagree on pretty much any political issue, so to try and avoid the topic completely. There was one notable absentee from the group, Queen Sophie. "Erm, good evening Grace and so lovely to meet you," Prince Henry led the greetings. Grace curtsied, and instantly hated herself. You fucking Tory, she thought. She thought she felt a drop of wee escape as she curtsied, but she might have imagined it. "The Queen has been held up on royal business, but should be with us very shortly." "So lovely to meet you, your royal highness," Grace replied. Ugh, I sound like a Southerner. "This is my wife, Florence," Henry added. "Hello darling, don't worry, you'll get used to this faux formality soon enough," she winked. Grace smiled. Florence had always struck her as one of the more relatable royals. "And this is our daughter Harriet." "Hi," Harriet waved, barely making eye contact. "Nice to meet you," Grace's bladder reminded her of its presence once again, as she struggled to maintain composure. "And this is my father, Francis," Henry sounded relieved to be done with the introductions. "What a fantastic outfit you have on, I might see if we can get some of the younger staff here to wear the same," Francis clasped Grace's hand in his, and she could tell that he was staring at her tits. Grace laughed awkwardly, and felt slightly disappointed that no-one challenged his comment. She found it difficult not to squirm in place, as she longed to release her pent up urine. But she knew she'd have to wait until she'd met the Queen before going. Meet Queen of England, urinate, socialise. That was the game plan for the evening. --- Grace clenched everything as the butler poured her a third glass of champagne. The trickling of the alcohol against the glass was torture for her bladder which was now full to the brim with urine. 45 minutes had passed since she was told the Queen would be here shortly. Desperate wasn't the word anymore, Grace simply had to get to a toilet soon, or else a very expensive jumpsuit was going to be ruined. "You okay babe," Thomas asked, noticing her pained expression. He'd barely been able to speak to her alone since they arrived. "I'm absolutely bursting for a wee," Grace cried, crossing her legs tightly as they sat on the sofa together. "Oh no, is it worse than on Scarfell Pike?" he asked. A few weeks ago, she had to use the men's loos at the Scarfell Pike car park because there was a queue for the ladies and she couldn't hold on. "About twice as bad," Grace moaned. "I promise she'll be here any minute, just hold on," he insisted. "If she's not here in five minutes, I'm going to have to go. I feel like I'm going to explode," she hissed. Thomas nodded sympathetically. The longest five minutes of Grace's life went by, and still no sign of her majesty. Her bladder felt like a ticking time bomb, that would detonate with the slightest of pushes. The pain was so intense she wanted to cry. This far surpassed when she was stuck on the M25 for six hours after two coffees, or when she saw a three hour film on a first date and forgot to use the loo beforehand. "I'm sorry, I can't hold it any longer," Grace gingerly stood up, exhaling deeply as she felt all the weight of her bowling ball bladder dragging her towards the floor. Some wee leaked as she stood, Grace was certain of that this time. "Ah Grace, may I introduce you to Her Majesty Queen Sophie?" Prince Henry announced. Grace froze, as the Queen of England walked slowly towards her. She was shorter than Grace had imagined, but looked in good health for an 80 year old. "Your majesty, it is an honour to meet you," Grace curtsied. Instant regret. A much longer spurt of wee escaped, which surely would be visible if anyone looked closely enough. Here she was meeting the Queen, and she could feel her own piss running down her legs. This was bad. Very bad. "Thank you, Grace, I've heard a lot about you! I can't wait to chat... are you alright?" the Queen asked. Grace was no longer able to hide her need, and had resorted to shifting from foot to foot to keep herself dry. Well, relatively dry. "Erm, to be honest with you, I really need to use the toile.... bathroom!" Grace's face turned the colour of her jumpsuit, but at least she remembered that the royals don't like to use the word 'toilet'. "Right of course," the Queen seemed bemused. "Bernard? Could you escort our guest to the lavatory please?" she gestured towards one of the butler's. "Thank you!" Grace felt pathetically grateful. Every step was agony as she followed Bernard, and her face felt lava hot with embarrassment, knowing that the most important people in England all knew she was on the verge of wetting herself. Once out of the room, Grace dropped all pretence of being dignified, and buried her hand into her crotch. "Sorry about this Bernard," Grace weakly excused herself, as another leak escaped. "Blimey, you look ready to pop," Bernard laughed. "The loo's just through there." Grace didn't even thank him. She slammed the door shut, and desperately started removing her jumpsuit. Reaching the zip at the back was hard enough, let alone when she couldn't stand still. The urge was uncontrollable now, as a long slither of urine gained freedom. The crotch of her jumpsuit was now at least three shades darker than the rest. The sight of the toilet was agonising for Grace's bladder, as she tried her best to ignore the signals from her brain telling her to relieve herself. Dancing frantically, battling with a zip that seemed to be held in place with superglue, she lost the battle. She yanked the zip down but it was too late. A small river of urine violently escaped Grace's urethra, pooling in her panties, before running in rivulets down each leg, and trickling into her high heels. Grace sighed as all the pressure of the last few hours disappeared, and the balloon inside her slowly deflated, but the relief only slightly outweighed the intense embarrassment. After snapping out of her trance like stupor, and realising the pee was about to seep through the door, she managed somehow to stem the tide. Ripping the rest of her body suit and knickers off, she ran to the toilet to finish the rest of her wee in there. Grace had run through this night many times in her head before, but in none of her visions did she end up stark naked on the toilet, next to a jumpsuit covered in piss. She had lots of explaining to do. *** "Thank you so much for having me," Grace smiled timidly, wearing a blue dress that Princess Florence had packed with her. "Have a safe drive home," Prince Henry replied, looking shell shocked from the evening's events. "And thank you for the dress, I'll return it as soon as possible," Grace whispered. "Don't worry about it honey," Princess Florence leaned in. "I've been doing this princess thing for thirty years now, I promise it gets easier. You'll soon learn that princesses don't pee," she winked. Grace nodded, hoping her eyes didn't betray her fear. But I always have to pee, she thought. "I'll call you later," Thomas barely made eye contact with Grace. "I'm sorry," Grace's eyes filled with tears. "We'll talk later," Thomas hugged her. Grace climbed into the back of the car, humiliated and not sure what the future held for her and Thomas. Putting her AirPods in, she whacked a playlist on and tried to forget about everything that just happened. Edited February 25 by nononono (see edit history)

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