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Here is a new story from me. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. It is loosley inspired by experiences I have read a
about in the past.
Bill was giving Judith a lift back home, as they both lived in the same street and worked for the same large company which had branches all over the country. They had been at a team meeting at a main branch in a town about a few hundred miles away from home. Judith had travelled down by train the previous day, while Bill had arrived there from another town where he had been staying for a few days whilst finishing an installation job. Bill had known Judith ever since she had started work with the company, and often gave her lifts to and from work when he wasn’t away on installation work. They were good friends and workmates, but nothing more. For a start she was much younger than him, in her late 20’s, whereas he was in his forties – and happily married. Judith was a very happy, cheerful person, and very outgoing. She wasn’t exactly slim, but had an attractive enough figure if you liked women with curves. As far as Bill knew, she didn’t have a steady boyfriend, although rumour in the office had it that she was 2a bit of a goer” and liked the men. Bill admitted to himself sometimes that she was “a bit of alright” and that he would have tried it on with her if he was a bit younger. He was sure some of the younger guys in the branch were jealous of him, as they would have liked the chance to get to know her like he did.
Their company event finished in mid-afternoon, which was good, as it gave them the chance to get on the road before the rush hour traffic became too bad. Bill went to the loo before leaving, and noticed that Judith did as well. It would be at least 4 hour drive before they got home, so they would probably stop somewhere on the way for coffee and another comfort break.
As they got underway and clear of the city traffic they started to chat about various items of company gossip. One thing that intrigued everyone else at the branch was how Judith suddenly seemed to start to get along very well with Mrs. Collins, the branch manageress. Mrs. Collins was in her forties and was not very popular with most of the staff. She could be very demanding of staff and always seemed to be in a grumpy frame of mind. Actually she didn’t bother Bill too much, as he was mainly away from the branch and didn’t see much of her. He was also good at his job and as a result she tended to leave him alone. He actually felt a bit sorry for her, as he knew that her husband was very arrogant and also very demanding. Bill thought that she probably got a hard time both at work and at home. Secretly he found her rather attractive, as she was always smartly dressed, with smart business suits with tight skirts. She had a good figure for her age and a lovely tight bottom which her clothes tended to show off to perfection. Bill would never admit it to his colleagues, but he would have taken a chance with her if he thought he could get away with it.
As they travelled along, Bill decided to open the subject of Mrs. Collins, but she didn’t really take him up on the subject, other than to say that she didn’t particularly like her any more than anybody else and that she tried to stay out of her way if possible. They then carried on chatting about various bits and pieces and didn’t mention her again.
When they had been on the road a couple of hours, Bill noticed that Judith had gone quiet. There was a service area about 15 minutes away, so he suggested that they should stop for a coffee. They stopped at the services for coffee and both again used the loo. After setting off again Judith seemed more relaxed and said “Oh, that’s better. I was really needing that.” Bill started to say that he liked his coffee too, when Judith replied by saying “No silly! I didn’t mean the coffee, I meant the loo! I was starting to need quite badly.” Bill replied by saying that if he had known that he would have pulled off at an earlier services but she replied that it was OK and that if she had been really desperate she would have asked him to pull over so that she could relieve herself. Then she said something which she obviously didn’t mean to say but which slipped out without her realising it. She said “ After all I wouldn’t want to do Mrs Collins”
Bill looked at her quizzically, but she giggled and said “Oh! I didn’t mean to say that. I’m not supposed to tell anyone.” She then changed the subject and carried on about something else. After about 10 minutes though, she snuggled into her seat and smiled at Bill, before saying “Ok, I can trust you not to tell anyone. You must promise though, because she will know who told you and then I will be in real trouble.” Bill assured her that her secret was safe with him, as the last thing he would want to do was to get her in trouble with her boss.
“Ok then” said Judith. “I’ll tell you what happened, but basically Mrs Collins had an accident.” Bill looked surprised and said that bhe hoped she hadn’t been hurt or had hurt anyone else, to which Judith replied. “No, silly, not that type of accident –she wet herself” Bill looked incredulous. “What,? Mrs. Collins wet herself!” “Yes replied Judith – completely – knickers, tights, skirt the lot! She was totally embarrassed and made me swear not to tell a soul.” Bill again assured her that he would never tell anyone and she started to tell him what actually happened.
“ We had been at another team meeting about an year ago and that time I was travelling with Mrs. Collins. She had been given a hard time during the meeting from the finance director and had to try her best to defend the performance of the branch. She got a bit agitated with him in front of everyone else and some people in the room were surprised at how she spoke to him. When the meeting finished we were heading to the loo before we set off when the assistant director called Mrs. Collins over and took her into a side room. I went to the loo and, when I came out Mrs. Collins was coming out of the room. She asked if I was ready and when I said I was she said to come on then, we are getting out of here. She was obviously upset and in a bit of a rage, because she stormed out ahead of me, red in the face, without speaking to anyone else. When we got in the car she was still fuming and was driving very aggressively. Once out of the city traffic, however, she seemed to calm down a bit and eventually apologised to me for her behaviour. I told her it was all right and that I had felt sorry for her for the way she was treated at the meeting. She then told me that what had happened in the meeting was nothing to what had taken place with the assistant director. She felt hurt that her efforts weren’t being appreciated and that all the problems the branch had been experiencing were being blamed on her.
After about an hour she became quiet again and seemed to tense up. There was a service area about 20 miles ahead and when she saw the sign she said “Oh good, we’ll pull in there. I’m really needing the loo. I was needing before we left, but after the assistant director had finished with me I wasn’t about to hang around. Oh!, I’m bursting. I hope there isn’t a queue” However, when we were about halfway to the service area all the traffic in our direction suddenly slowed to a complete stop. “Oh no!” she said “Not now. Please, not a breakdown. I must get to the toilet. I’m desperate!” By now she was looking flustered and her checks were red and flushed. She was squirming about in her seat, obviously squeezing her thighs together. I tried to reassure her by saying that it was probably just the amount of traffic and that it would soon clear, but then a policeman came walking up through the lines of cars and vehicles, stopping to speak to each driver. Mrs. Collins muttered something about this not looking too good, and when he reached the car he told us that here had been a serious accident ahead and that all traffic was being diverted onto minor roads. It would be a longer journey, but would be quicker than waiting until the accident had been cleared. He then asked where we were going and Mrs. Collins told him, adding that we had been intending to stop at the services. He informed her that we would be diverted off before the services and gave us directions so that we would be heading the way we wanted to go. When he left the traffic started moving and Mrs. Collins started cursing softly to herself. She was saying “Bloody accident. There will be an accident here in a minute if I don’t find a loo. I’m absolutely desperate.!” About 5 minutes took us onto the diversion and at the roundabout Mrs. Collins was happy to see that very few vehicles seemed to be taking the turning we had been told to take. She explained to me that she would stop as soon as she found a suitable spot. The road was single carriageway in each direction, and twisted along through trees and farmland, with the occasional house set back off the road. By now Mrs Collins was in a really bad way, she was driving with one hand on the wheel and the other permanently pressed into her crotch. Her skirt had ridden up her thighs so far that the thicker part of her tights was in view. There were beads of sweat on her forehead, and she was breathing in short gasps. She kept muttering to herself “Oh shit! Oh shit! I’m nearly going in my knickers. Please let there be somewhere to stop. Anywhere will do! Just somewhere I can get my knickers down before it’s too late! I don’t even care if any one sees me – they’ll probably never see me again anyway! I’ve just got to pee-Now!” I was starting to become embarrassed for her, as she was obviously well out of her comfort zone. I kept looking ahead to see if there was a layby or somewhere to stop so that I could warn her about it, but for a while the road just carried on without any openings of any kind. At one time I thought she had lost it, as she stopped fidgeting and froze in her seat. After few seconds though she regained some of her composure and pulled up the front of her skirt to allow herself to hold herself directly through her knickers and tights. I was quite surprised actually as she was wearing quite trendy looking knickers. I expected her to be wearing old granny jobs. This went on for another few minutes before she said “Oh Judith. What am I going to do? I don’t think I can hold it any longer. I’m about to wet myself. I’m so desperate!” I tried to encourage her to hold on, telling her that there was bound to be a layby or something soon, but she was now in such distress that she was almost sobbing to herself and I was worried that she might just give up and go in her knickers right there in the car. Then I spotted it. A field gate just ahead. There was a gap in the hedge and a clear opening into the adjacent field. I told her about it and she slowed down before turning into the opening and skidding to a stop. Luckily the gate was open or I think she would have run right into it. She undid her seatbelt and got out as quickly as she could, pulling up her skirt as she did so. As soon as she was clear of the car she headed for the back of the hedge but before she reached it she froze in her tracks and jammed both hand firmly between her thighs. I though again that she had maybe been too late, but somehow she had managed to hold on. She set of again towards the hedge, but this time she was walking by only moving her legs from the knees down. Her thighs were squeezed together and she was holding herself for dear life. Just before she was completely out of sight of the road she froze again, but this time she spread her legs apart and looked down between her feet. She then let go of her crotch and gathered her skirt around her waist just as a torrent of pee cascaded onto the ground between her feet. She stood for a moment like this before eventually squatting down to finish her pee, still with her knickers and tights on. Her tights were all streaked with pee down the legs and her knickers must have been soaking. When she had finished she hobbled over to a thick part of the hedge- probably the part she had been heading for originally – before squatting again to remove her soggy underwear. She wiped herself dry the best she could with the dry parts of her tights before discarding them in the hedge. She then pulled her skirt back down and came back to the car looking very sheepish. She was full of apologies and obviously very embarrassed. I tried to tell her it was ok, and that anyone can have an accident. To help make her feel better I said the I was really needing to go to and I got out and went to the same thick part of the hedge and squatted for a quick pee too. I hadn’t been needing to badly but did manage to leave a small puddle although it was nothing like the size of the one Mrs Collins had left. The poor woman must have peed gallons! The ground was soaked all around where she had been standing and I could se the pee dripping off the gusset of her knickers in the base of the hedge.
I went back to the car and we set off again. I promised not to tell anyone and she told me how grateful she was that it was me in the car with her and not some of the other staff. And so that’s it. Maybe that will help you to understand why I get treated slightly better by Mrs. Collins than most people.”
By now Bill and Judith were almost home. As he dropped Judith off she gave him a peck on the check and said good night. Then he started wondering. Was she a pee enthusiast? Did she suspect he was? Was she trying to get him worked up? Did she fancy him? One thing for sure was that he would look at Mrs Collins in a different light from now on, and also his would wonder why he was so stiff when they went to bed that night. |
This is a HP omo I've been writing forever. It's extremely long at this point, and I doubt anyone will be interested in reading the entire thing, but I know I'm always looking for male HP omo, so I thought I might as well post my own. The story covers a lot, and goes from mainly dealing with Harry/Draco, to a split story involving Snape caring for a de-aged Harry/Draco. There's some Ron/Hermione stuff going on in later chapters as well.
Just as a warning, the first chapters deal with some darker themes that I think are necessary for the story's beginning. This mainly involves child abuse at the hands of Lucius and the Dursleys, but please keep in mind that the rest of the story is not this violent or intense. I just needed to create a sense of vulnerability in order to get the characters to where I wanted them, so please don't judge just on this one chapter--the rest of the story is much different! Please let me know if you'd like to see more, and I'll be happy to post the next chapters! This chapter is insanely long, but I couldn't find a good way to split it up!
Chapter 1:
Harry sighed as he hurried to dinner with Ron, dreading the detention he would be forced to endure after they ate. Only Professor Snape would force students into detention the night before the summer vacation was to begin. While the other teachers allowed students the freedom to reflect on their year and all that they had learned, essentially neglecting to teach anything at all that last day of term, the Potions Master had assigned a potion far more advanced than what had characteristically been asked of sixth years. Attempting the potion had placed all of the students on edge, who knew that Snape would more than likely take any opportunity he could to fail them all at the last moment.
It was no surprise, then, that as soon as Draco began in on his taunting games, Harry barely stood it for two moments before speaking back to the blonde boy. The argument escalated into the two boys going at each other, and Draco intentionally knocking over Harry’s cauldron filled with the beginnings of his potion.
Snape had been furious, insisting that another student could have been seriously harmed by the contents of Harry’s cauldron, and chided Harry for riling Draco up. They had both been sentenced to a night of detention.
“If I could hold you here past the end of term,” Snape had sneered, “I would.”
It was five minutes to seven by the time Harry finally decided to leave the dining hall. He said a cursory "goodbye" to as many people as he could before hurrying out of the large oak doors and literally running to the dungeons. Draco was there when he arrived, sitting straight-backed in a chair with his hands folded on his lap in front of him, obviously intending to embarrass Harry for being the second to arrive. Harry sneered at the blonde before taking the other seat, next to Draco.
Professor Snape entered his office shortly thereafter, carrying what looked like a stone basin and placing it on his desk. Harry recognized the object as a pensieve.
"The two of you provide me with more problems than any other students in my classes. Would either of you care to enlighten us as to why?" He asked.
The boys blinked blankly at him, knowing any answer they could think of would more than likely enrage their professor. He didn’t exactly give off the impression of being in a good mood.
"Mr. Potter?" Snape prompted, his black eyes boring into the boy.
"I don't know, sir," Harry answered, trying hard to meet the gaze and not look away.
"Hm." He said, not pleased. "Mr. Malfoy?"
"We're different people, sir," Draco answered after a moment, not daring to mention that he thought Harry was the scum of the earth and didn't deserve any of the fame he found at Hogwarts.
"Ah. Different people," Snape mocked. "So that means that every person who is different from another should show the same disrespect towards me that the two of you do, Mr. Malfoy?"
"N-no, sir, of course not," Draco mumbled, wishing that he had simply given a cheap answer, like Potter had.
Snape sighed, leaning forward in his chair and onto his desk, making the boys uncomfortable.
"Well, we're going to try something different today, something suggested to me by your head of house, actually, Mr. Potter."
The boys watched nervously, wondering how bad their punishment would be, as Snape pushed forward the stone basin, took out a corked bottle filled with a shimmery fog-like substance and placed it next to the basin.
"What is this?" He asked.
"A pensive, sir," Harry answered after leaving Draco a moment to chime in.
"Ah. Finally a right answer, Mr. Potter," Snape teased, eliciting a stifled snicker from Draco which the professor ignored.
"A pensive," Snape continued, "that will allow us to see that you are not so different after all. Let me warn you, you will not like what you are going to see. Embarrassment is the word for tonight's detention, as eliciting every other emotion from the two of you has not yet worked. I keep finding myself suffering through detentions for the sole purpose of disciplining you two miscreants, and I do not intend to continue in this manner. I hope that you will be embarrassed enough by what you will see that you will refrain from misbehaving, as another infraction will result in further embarrassing knowledge imparted to both myself and your fellow student. We are going to enter into your memories, and find your most embarrassing moments. Mind you, I have no idea what these are, perhaps the two of you don't either. Maybe you're thinking that you don't have an embarrassing moment. We shall see."
By now Harry and Draco were extremely nervous, hearts beating quickly as they thought about what their teacher and enemy would soon know about them.
"Mr. Malfoy, by spilling Mr. Potter’s potion today, you won yourself the position of going first."
Malfoy swallowed audibly, "Yes, sir," he choked out.
Snape lifted his wand towards Draco, mumbled a spell, and silently pulled a strand of memory from the boy’s mind. Before long, both Snape and Harry were inside the mind of Draco. They saw a large bedroom with a canopy bed in the middle of it...
The three were entered into a memory from two years ago. Draco was fifteen years old, sleeping in a room that must have been his bedroom at his parents’ Manor House. It was a warm summer’s night, and Draco was dozing under little more than a thin sheet, the windows opened wide to let in a semblance of a breeze.
Just as Harry was beginning to wonder if Snape had pulled the wrong memory, he watched the memory Draco begin to squirm around in bed and saw the unmistakable grasp the boy gave to his crotch. Draco obviously had to pee, but he was not yet awake.
The real Draco wanted this to stop, was doing everything in his power to will the memory to change. He knew what was coming, and it was not something he wished to re-live in front of his most hated enemy and most revered Professor. He began to feel outrage against Professor Snape; this was a violation of privacy, and his father would not be pleased to learn of this mistreatment. But, as he continued to watch, he began to realize just what night this memory was from, and he knew he would never approach his father about that night.
Curling into the fetal position, memory Draco pressed his thighs together and moved his hips from side to side. But, only a moment later, the boy relaxed and began peeing in bed. Draco’s cheeks flushed red. He knew exactly what it had felt like, the trickles of wetness snaking down his legs and streaming into the mattress until he was lying in a pool of urine. His underwear and shorts would become saturated, and he would wake in mid-stream, his heart beating quickly as he felt the shame and fear of what he was doing.
Sure enough, a slightly abashed Snape and Harry saw as the memory-Draco woke slowly, and, realizing what was happening, sat up and grabbed at his crotch to stop the flow. But it was useless. The wetness spread fast around the boy, sheets darkening no matter how much Draco squeezed and squirmed. Harry had not been expecting this in the slightest, but little did he know it was all about to get much worse.
“Does Master Draco need a change of clothing?” a voice whispered from the corner of the room. It was the Malfoy’s house elf, Dobby. Harry recognized him at once.
Draco often let Dobby sleep in the corner of his room in the summer months because the kitchen reached extremely warm temperatures. He had forgotten that Dobby was in the room that night, but now he remembered that, if it weren’t for that stupid elf, he may have gotten away with it all.
“Uhhh,” memory Draco mumbled, his heart beating fast when he realized he had already been caught. “No. No that’s alright, Dobby.”
Dobby stood up to walk closer to Draco.
“But Master Draco has used his bed,” Dobby told him. “He is all wet. Dobby will get clean sheets for the young Master.”
“I don’t need them,” Draco whispered sharply. He did not want Dobby skittering around the house making noise. The elf was prone to knocking over vases in the hallway or falling off of the linen closet shelves. He was bound to wake up his parents.
“Master Draco is sad that he messed his bed,” Dobby said, reaching forward to lay a hand on Draco’s. Draco yanked his arm away, cursing the fact that the elf was treating him as he had when he was five. “Dobby will clean him up in no time.”
Draco shoved Dobby’s hand away from the bed.
“F*** off and leave me alone!” Draco shot at Dobby in a tensely loud whisper.
Dobby looked at Draco in surprise. He retreated back to the corner and burst into tears. Draco hurried out of bed and over to Dobby in an attempt to keep him from crying.
“Dobby, shut up,” Draco said quite untactfully. The elf only cried louder. “Don’t cry, Dobby. I’m sorry. Just be quiet.”
Draco glanced back and forth between the door and the crying house-elf, shushing him desperately. Dobby sunk to the floor and hid his face in his hands.
“The young master doesn’t trust Dobby!” He wailed. “The young master forgets that Dobby changed his diapers!”
Draco flushed red in embarrassment as the elf jumped up off the floor and ran to the closet. He opened the door and placed his fingers on the door jam, ready to close it tight against them.
“Dobby has failed the young master,” he said, and slammed the closet door tight against his fingers, sending him screeching back in pain.
“Stop that, Dobby!” Draco said, forgetting to whisper. He yanked at the house-elf, attempting to get him far away from the closet. He wrestled Dobby to the ground, attempting to pin his arms back above his head. He stopped when he heard a voice from above him.
“What is the meaning of this?” Lucius boomed from the doorway. Draco’s heart sunk. His father stood at the entrance to his bedroom, enraged.
“Father, I—“
“The young master has messed his bed,” Dobby said in an attempt to explain Draco’s actions and keep him from punishment. Despite his good intentions, Draco knew that it was the worst thing the elf could have said.
“I do not appreciate being woken up in the middle of the night. Draco, come here,” Lucius ordered.
He was so calm Draco knew he must be angrier than usual. Draco pushed himself off of the floor to stand next to Dobby, but stepped only a few inches closer to his father.
“Come here,” Lucius said, pointing to the space next to him.
Draco tried fruitlessly to cover his wet crotch with his hands as he walked next to his father. Lucius swatted his hands away, and Draco stood in his soaked shorts, the smell of urine strong on him. He had never wanted his father to hear him; he should have just let Dobby do what he wanted. Now, his father would be disappointed in him. He tried not to cry, blinking furiously to keep back the tears of shame.
Lucius flipped on the lights and stared at the wetness spread across Draco’s crotch and down his legs. He cleared his throat and walked to the bed in the middle of the room, pulling back the sheet despite the fact that the wetness was clearly visible through it. He turned to Dobby and pointed for him to leave. The house-elf turned to go, giving a sympathetic glance towards Draco. After he had left, Lucius closed the bedroom door.
“Draco, how old are you?” Lucius asked cooly, knowing the answer fully well.
“Father—I’m sorry,” Draco mumbled. “It was---“
“How. old. are. you.” Lucius repeated, emphasizing each word in his anger.
“Fifteen, father.”
“And what have you just done?”
Lucius stood closer than Draco would like. He had to fight against taking a step backwards towards the wall.
“Father, I won’t--,” Draco began, his cheeks flushed red. He did not want to be forced any more embarrassment. He felt like he still had to pee and squeezed his crotch when his father was turned away.
“What have you just done?” Lucius said louder, as close to yelling as he ever came.
“I…I’ve had an accident,” Draco mumbled. Lucius stared down at him and stepped closer. That was not the answer he wanted. “I peed in my pants and my bed,” Draco said louder, his hands held out in front of him, begging him not to come closer. His father revelled in making Draco feel anything but a man, and Draco feared he was about to be hit.
“My fifteen-year-old son will not show such a horrible lack of control. Apparantly he is still a pee-pants baby. When will you ever grow up and learn control?” Lucius barked, standing uncomfortably close to his son, glaring down at him.
Draco hung his head, having nothing to say. His father grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to the wet bed.
“I will not have a baby for a son,” he sneered. He shoved Draco against the bed. “Put your face in it.”
Draco looked up at his father in disbelief.
“Do it!” Lucius yelled.
Slowly, Draco lowered his face onto the mattress. The pee still felt faintly warm. It wet his face and went up his nose. The plastic sheet his mother had placed on his bed when he was seven had kept the liquid from soaking down into the mattress. She had resorted to the muggle solution so that Lucius would not be able to detect the drying spells and become angry. The plastic sheet always shamed Draco. While at Hogwarts, he felt strong and grown-up. His attitude always shifted to that of a little boy as soon as he came home for a holiday and slept on the slippery plastic sheet.
Lucius grabbed the back of Draco’s neck and shoved his face further into the bed. The smell of pee was too strong for Draco to take and he choked, his coughs wetting his lips and tongue with pee.
“You’re a pee-pants baby. You’re not even a Malfoy. You’re nothing!” Lucius smacked Draco hard on his backside, spanking him despite the wetness spread across the seat of his pants. “I bet you like wetting yourself, you little pervert. You’re a weak-willed bed-wetter and you’ll never amount to anything!”
Draco struggled against crying out as his father spanked him again and again. He held his crotch with one hand that he hoped his father didn’t see, knowing that if his father didn’t stop soon he was going to wet himself again. He thought his bladder was empty, but the fear suddenly made him afraid he would lose control while fully awake.
He was relieved when Lucius stopped the spanking. However, If Draco had known the alternative, he would have gladly taken them without complaint.
“If you like wetting yourself so much, why don’t you do it now?” Lucius asked.
Draco looked up in confusion, pleading with his eyes for his father to leave him alone. He was caught between wanting to crawl under the bed and cry and wanting to slug his father in the face while he told him to screw off.
“I’m sorry Father, it…it won’t happen again,” Draco promised.
A flash of anger showed on Lucius’s face. He once again grabbed Draco by the back of the neck and shoved his face into the cooling pool of urine.
“Do not make false promises,” he hissed into his ear.
Without thinking, Draco yanked backwards, knocking his father in the chin with the back of his head. He hadn’t meant to hit against him; he had just been trying to get away. He just wanted to be left alone. He wasn’t a child, despite the soaked bed, and he didn’t appreciate being treated like one.
When Draco turned to face his father, Lucius slapped him across the mouth. Caught unaware, Draco stumbled backwards. Instead of drawing more anger out of the boy with the violence, Draco was suddenly submissive once again. He had learned long ago that his father was stronger and meaner than he could ever be.
Lucius dragged Draco to the center of the room and conjured a liter of water.
“Drink this.” He ordered, passing the jug towards his son.
Draco took the water in his hands hesitantly.
“Drink!” Lucius yelled, approaching Draco as if he would hit him again.
Draco quickly brought the bottle to his lips and began drinking. He chugged the water quickly, knowing his father would make things worse were he to dawdle. His stomach felt full very quickly, filling up with water and making him feel sick to his stomach. When he was only halfway done, he felt that he would not be able to drink anything more. Water began spilling down his front onto his t-shirt..
“All of it,” Lucius ordered.
Draco swallowed the final gulps painfully, his stomach filled more than he could remember.
“Recite the Malfoy values,” Lucius said. The Malfoys had long ago written up a list of values which their family prided themselves on. To Lucius, it was the Bible. He re-wrote the values, adding in his own ideas, and had them framed. A list hung in every room. Draco could see the values hung above his bed, but he did not need to read them; his father had made sure he knew them by heart long ago.
“Respect for other Malfoys,” Draco began. “Control in all situations. Strength to overcome the weak. Loyalty to the true Lord. Manhood above all. Courage to achieve greatness.”
“Repeat,” Lucius stated.
Draco was made to stand in front of his father, who sat on the bench at the end of Draco’s bed, watching him recite the values for over half an hour. As he repeated the values, Draco knew exactly what it was his father was waiting for, and eventually Draco could not help but make it known that he had to pee. He doubted that he would have even needed the liter of water which his father forced him to drink in order to feel the need to pee; he had already needed to due to the fear his father placed upon him. Draco tried not to let his father know he was getting desperate, but he could not help shifting from side to side slightly.
“What was that, again?”
Draco cleared his throat and willed his bladder to behave. “Control in all situations,” Draco repeated.
Lucius nodded. “Good,” he said.
Draco stood silent, waiting for what his father would say next. He knew he had a plan in making him drink all the water. He knew there was no way Draco would be allowed to use the bathroom; he just hoped his Father would leave him alone to wet himself in private.
“Now, pee.”
Draco stared at his father and his whole face flushed red.
“Wh-what?” Draco asked. He did not think he had heard his father correctly.
“Spread your legs, and pee,” Lucius ordered.
Draco got so nervous that he was forced to squeeze his crotch suddenly; he had been about to wet himself. Suddenly, he was four years old again, being ordered where and when to pee in Lucius’s twisted version of toilet training. Draco quickly pulled his hand away when he realized that now his father certainly knew that he was getting desperate. Draco had thought his father would make him hold his pee until he had an accident. He was not prepared for his father’s order to pee himself intentionally.
“I—I c-cant,” Draco whispered. He took a step backwards, towards the wall.
Lucius stood up and approached his son, who could not help from taking another step backwards. Lucius grabbed Draco by the neck and put him back into position, smacking his backside hard.
“A Malfoy never says ‘can’t’,” Lucius sneered.
“Lucius? Draco? Is everything alright?” Draco’s mother was calling to them from behind Draco’s locked bedroom door. Draco was relieved; he hoped her presence would end his torture.
Lucius opened the door.
“Come in. You are not to speak one word. Your son is learning what it means to be a Malfoy.”
“Draco, honey? Are you—“ his mother began.
Lucius raised his hand as if he were about to hit Narcissa and she became silent. He led her to the end of Draco’s bed and sat her down on the bench next to him. She looked concerned as she took in the wet bed and Draco’s wet clothes. She had tried for many years to hide Draco’s bedwetting from Lucius, but he always seemed to find out. Draco stood with his legs crossed.
“Alright, son. Go ahead.” Lucius ordered.
Draco cleared his throat. He squirmed in place.
“Please, Father. I’m sorry. I’ll—”
“I won't tell you again!” Lucius yelled. He was getting impatient.
Draco glanced at his mother, and could just barely make out that she was nodding her head. She was giving him permission, telling him to do what he had to in order to appease his father. She never knew how to deal with Lucius when he was in one of his moods, and knew that any defiance on Draco’s part—or her own—would anger him further, and he would take to hitting them.
Draco slowly stepped out until his legs were shoulder-length apart. He was bright red from embarrassment, and knew that he was shaking.
“pee,” Lucius told him.
Narcissa had started crying silently. Lucius did not notice.
Draco knew that he had to pee, but he could not make himself wet in his pants with his parents watching. He had been taught to control his bodily functions above all else; it was the reason it was such a catastrophe when he had begun wetting his bed. He was consciously aware of his underwear up against his crotch. He did not feel right about intentionally letting his pee out when he was still clothed, even if his briefs were already soaked.
“Do it!” Lucius yelled.
Draco closed his eyes and tried to relax his bladder muscles. He tried to convince himself that it was alright for him to pee on his bedroom floor. He came close to letting out his pee, but at the last moment he tensed up, and held it in. Sighing, he tried to forget about the fabric against his crotch and took a deep breath. As he let out the breath, he felt a small trickle of pee wet the front of his underwear, but he unconsciously stopped as soon as he felt the wetness soaked up by his clothing.
It took another minute or two to start the trickle up again. He spread his legs wider, so that the leg holes of his underwear, which were too big for him as they had recently been Lucius’s, gaped away from his skin. Lucius passed down underwear to Draco in a sick show of fatherly control, just so Draco would always remember who provided for him. He closed his eyes one more time and let go, and when a trickle of pee began he pushed with his bladder muscles until the trickle became a small stream, and then he could not have stopped even if he wanted to. Pee streamed out of him into his underpants and shorts and onto the floor. His briefs began to become soaked once again, and he soon felt pee streaming down his legs. As he lost full control and peed full-force, spurting pee as his cheeks reddened, he heard the splash of liquid against the hardwood floor. The relief was almost greater than the embarrassment, and Draco kept his eyes closed as the warmth of his pee enveloped his legs, streaming down his thighs and calves and pooling around his bare feet.
Pee streamed through his underwear directly onto the floor, a strong stream flowing right through his briefs. When he felt himself begin to become hard from the relief, he quickly opened his eyes to see his parents staring back at him. His father leered, as if this proved that Draco was nothing more than a baby. His mother had turned away, unable to watch and crying for her son. The embarrassment of his parents’ presence took any sexual pleasure out of the act, and he felt shamed as the final spurts of pee wet his pants. The puddle underneath Draco stretched from one foot to the other; Draco stood in the hot liquid and just had the desire to lie down in the pool and fall asleep. He only wanted the night to be over.
“Weakling,” Lucius spat. “Go to bed.” He stood up from the bench. “You are not to leave this room until breakfast.”
He turned and left the room.
“Are you alright?” Narcissa asked her son quietly, after his father had left.
Draco nodded, unable to make eye contact. He was humiliated. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone?
Narcissa turned to Draco and took his hand, guiding him out of the pool of wetness towards the far side of his room. He did not want her to touch him, and her hand in his own only made him feel like a child. But, he knew she thought it was helping, and that she would be hurt were he to pull away. He allowed her to lead him back to his bed, and he tried not to cringe.
His mother was still crying as she found a towel hanging on the back of Draco’s door and mopped up what she could of his mattress. She dared not remove the pee from the floor. As she worked, Draco held himself, willing his mother to leave so that he could pee the rest of the water out of him. He had willfully stopped himself when he could gain control; he did not want to give his father the satisfaction of him losing complete control. But he knew he could not hold it much longer, and as his mother worked to clean his bed as best she could with only a towel, he felt himself losing control once again.
“Mother?”
Narcissa turned around to find Draco hunched over, his hands between his legs, holding himself tightly. Placing a hand on his shoulder, she guided him back to the end of his bed, to the pool of urine on the floor.
“It’s alright, Draco,” she whispered, nodding.
She turned away, standing with her back to her son. Draco squirmed with his need to pee. He stepped into the liquid and squatted, resting on his haunches. He knew he would be better able to let go in such a position. Were his mother not in the room, he would have stripped down, but he was far too exhausted and embarrassed. Sighing as his muscles let go, he began to pee again into his briefs, urine streaming through his wet underwear into the pool below. He pushed the pee out quickly, just wanting the shame to be over. It splashed loudly into the urine already on the floor, sending splatters up onto his feet and ankles. His shorts hung low on his hips, heavy with stinking urine.
When he had finished, his mother helped him into bed. She wanted to help him change into clean underwear, but knew Lucius would find out and take it out on Draco. Besides, dry clothes would just get wet when Draco lay down in his wet bed. She stroked Draco’s forehead and kissed his cheek.
“Goodnight, baby,” she said.
Draco flushed at the endearment and Narcissa realized her mistake.
“Sorry,” she sighed. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” She crossed the room. “Everything will be alright in the morning,” she said, before turning out the lights.
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Here's the next chapter--thanks for all the positive feedback. Again, there's situations involving child abuse (Harry's turn, this time), but after this chapter the story kind of settles into more of a Harry/Draco story and, although there will be mentions of their abuse, there's not really anything as explicit as these first two chapters. Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you like this chapter--I'd love to hear what you think!
Chapter 2
In a moment, Harry was pulled out of the memory residing within Malfoy Manor and was left sitting in the cold, claustrophobic office of Severus Snape. Not believing what he had just seen, he sat stunned, seeing out of the corner of his eye that Malfoy was sitting straight-backed in stillness, his face red and angry. Harry could not remember ever seeing him look quite so...humbled.
In other circumstances, Harry would have been laughing or plotting ways to use the information against his enemy. But, despite learning that Draco wet the bed when he was fifteen consistently enough to warrant a plastic sheet, Harry could not get the vision of Lucius Malfoy out of his mind, sneering as he forced his son into humiliation. It was a look he had seen many times before, on the face of his Uncle Vernon. What right did Snape have to expose their most guarded secrets? Surprisingly, Harry realized that he felt a sort of solidarity with Draco in that moment; he had never realized their home lives had been quite so similar.
Snape cleared his throat as the final effects of Draco’s memory floated out of the pensieve. When Minerva had suggested the punishment to him, he expected to be forced to watch as the boys were turned down by a girl they fancied or fell asleep in class and began talking absurdities in their sleep. He had never envisioned the intense shame he would force young Malfoy to re-live. He had watched Draco grow up, indeed, had become a second father to the boy after growing up with Lucius. How had he never known the extent of what his old friend had been putting Draco through? Not to mention Narcissa? The memory had made him white-hot with anger; he wished to end the detention immediately and floo to the Malfoy’s house, where he would have quite the talk with his old friend Lucius. He knew Lucius had quite the temper--he had gotten into more than his fair share of fights while they were at Hogwarts, more than once placing other boys in the hospital wing--but Snape had never imagined just how abusive he had been towards his only son.
“Screw you,” Draco mumbled, his glassy eyes turned towards the floor.
Snape opened his mouth to take points, began to chastise Malfoy for disrespect, but the words caught in his throat and then fell away. He knew he was the one at fault. If he had known what the boy’s memory would be, he would have sentenced them to a night of menial tasks or writing lines. He understood Draco’s anger; the punishment had gone too far. He wished to send Harry away and apologize to Draco, who looked ready to be sick on the floor of his office, but he knew the best thing to do would be to act as if he had not been phased, as if he had not just witnessed something which disgusted him in its echoes of the child abuse he himself had suffered at the hands of his own father. Without a word, Professor Snape touched his wand to Harry's head and pulled out a long strand of memory.
They found themselves within a suburban home ill-decorated and done up with balloons and streamers. A thirteen-year old Harry, who looked scrawny and dirty, dressed in clothing much too large for his small frame, was carrying a tray of food around a kitchen table filled with boys his own age. A pudgy, large-framed boy sat at the head of the table, a birthday hat barely squeezed onto his head, the elastic stretched beneath his chin so tight it was sure to snap at any moment. It soon became clear that Harry’s cousin was having a birthday party, and Harry was not a guest, but the help.
“I need more pizza!” the fat boy, whom they soon learned was named Dudley, screamed despite the fact that Harry was standing less than three feet from him.
Harry began to serve his cousin, but a boy nearly as large as Dudley, who was sitting to his right, quickly reached up and knocked the tray of food out of the smaller boy’s hands. The food fell to the floor as the tray toppled with a crash, and Dudley immediately began screeching in laughter, which the others at the table quickly imitated.
Watching his former self from the confines of Snape’s office, Harry sighed, knowing exactly what was about to happen and feeling betrayed that it was about to be imparted to the two people he hated most at Hogwarts.
“Mummy!” Dudley shouted after he had stopped laughing, “The freak spilled all of my yummy food!”
A thin woman with tightly stretched skin entered the kitchen to find her brat of a nephew hunched on the floor, attempting to clean up the pizza sauce and cheese that had been spilled all over her kitchen floor.
“Vernon!” she shouted, exasperated and angry. She yanked Harry up by his arm and shoved him back against the wall. “Wait until your Uncle deals with you, you clumsy idiot,” she breathed.
Harry stood stock-still even when she released him and went to comfort his cousin, who was now blubbering on about how his birthday party was ruined. He pressed his legs together as the fear reminded him that he had been desperate to pee for over an hour now; he had been trying to find a time to sneak to the loo, but of course Dudley enjoyed finding menial, useless tasks for him to do whenever it seemed he may have an opportunity. If he kept Harry busy, he would not be forced to interact with his “friends” around the table. Snape and Draco couldn’t help but notice that the other boys at the table looked somewhat miserable, and they had to agree that the party decorations and hats seemed more fit for the party of a six-year-old than a teenager.
A huge, overweight man with a fat purple face came storming into the kitchen, breathing heavily from the exertion it took to walk there from his space on the couch in the living room. Without speaking, he reached up and smacked Harry across the face and neck, yelling at him for being a useless, ugly freak. Harry brought up his hands to protect himself, crouching down to the floor and wedging himself up against the base of the kitchen counter to make himself as small as possible.
“Get out of there, you good-for-nothing piece of dirt,” he gasped, grunting with the effort of trying to reach his nephew, who had found a somewhat safe space behind a stool.
Harry’s heart was beating quickly as he looked for a way out, but all eyes were turned on him, gasping as they watched the show. Dudley was laughing as he watched, apparently thinking this was the perfect entertainment to watch with dinner. Some of his friends laughed along with them, but more than a few glanced at each other in obvious discomfort. But when one stood, possibly with the intention of helping Harry, Dudley shouted at him to sit down or he would pound him down, and the boy slowly took his seat again.
Knocking the stool aside, Vernon caught Harry by the wrist and dragged him to the opposite wall, closer to those seated around the table. He gave him a few more smacks for good measure, before pointing to the spilled food and ordering him to pick it up.
“That floor better be spotless, or you’re sleeping outside for two weeks with no food, you cowardly imbecile freak,” he breathed, fat face close to Harry’s.
Harry couldn’t help it; he squirmed against the wall and had to reach down to grasp his crotch. He felt like he was about to pee in his pants. It was an act that did not go unnoticed by Dudley or his friends.
“Look,” one of the boys shouted, “the little freak has to take a pee!”
“Aw, the baby’s gotta hold it or he’ll wet himself,” another teased.
Blushing bright red, Harry forced his hand out from between his legs and fought back tears.
“I’ll clean it all,” he said to his Uncle. “But, please, let me use the loo first.”
In response, his Uncle leaned his head back and laughed in his face before grabbing him roughly by the chin and forcing him to look up into his eye. Harry gasped and had to twist his legs together as a wave of desperation hit him, prompting more snickers from the bigger boys around the table, who were now watching him like hawks.
“You listen to me, freak,” his Uncle said, his fat fingers squeezing into Harry’s jaw until he was nearly yelling out in pain. “None of Dudley’s civilized friends want to share a loo with the likes of a know-nothing, useless aberration like you. You better hold it good, because there’s no way you’re allowed in there until each and every one of these boys leaves this house.”
Whimpering from pain and desperation, Harry breathed heavily, knowing when it got this bad there was only a short time for him to get to a toilet. Blinking quickly, he forced the tears back, knowing it would only make him a subject of more ridicule were he to begin crying.
“Now clean up that floor,” Vernon hissed, grabbing Harry by the shoulders and practically throwing him to the ground.
Wincing as he slammed against the tile floor, Harry was forced to hold himself again, feeling a spurt escape and soak into his briefs. He pressed down hard until he was able to gain control, trying to block out the taunting laughter from those surrounding him.
“He’s gonne lose it,” one sneered.
“He’s really about to soak himself,” another laughed.
Someone threw a napkin in Harry’s face, and he tried to imagine himself somewhere else as he took it and began cleaning up the floor. It was torture to rinse out the napkin in the sink, the cold water running over his hands and forcing him to squirm around like crazy to hold in his pee.
“Look at him do the potty-dance like a two-year-old!” A tall boy with freckles shouted.
Harry could think of nothing except using the toilet. The loo was directly off the kitchen, and it was torture for him to see inside and know he was not allowed. His Aunt and Uncle often played games like this with him, banning him from basic needs such as food or the loo because they knew it tortured him the most. There was no way he would be able to hold it until all of Dudley’s friends left; he just hoped that they would get bored of watching him and he would be able to pee his pants alone without them all noticing.
But he wasn’t that lucky. After he had cleaned the floor spotless, he was made to take away all the dirty plates from the table, and had to dodge Dudley’s friends, who each in turn tried to reach out and poke Harry in the stomach or try to tickle him, hoping them would be the one to get him to lose control.
“I need more juice!” Dudley screamed, and all of his friends caught on and began demanding more to drink as well.
Harry carried over the pitcher of juice and began filling their cups, his thighs pressed tight together as the sound of liquid made him more desperate than ever. What made it worse was that the pitcher was large and heavy; he was forced to hold it with two hands so he could not grab his crotch when it started to get really bad. He had almost made it around the entire table when he felt wetness spreading through his underwear. Without thinking, he let go of the pitcher and brought both hands to grab himself between the legs, pleading for the leak to stop. He shuddered when he heard the ceramic pitcher fall to the ground and shatter.
“He’s losing it!” the freckled boy, who seemed to be the most invested, announced. “He’s gonna wee!”
Vernon swore from the living room as the pitcher shattered, and his Aunt Petunia immediately burst into tears.
“That was my best pitcher,” she wailed. “Vernon, do something!”
Harry stood hunched next to the table, legs squeezed tight together and hands pressed against his crotch. He had managed to stop the flow, but he knew there would be a tell-tale wet spot spread beneath his grasping hands, and he knew it was only a matter of seconds before he lost control again. He didn’t see his Uncle as he came from behind and collared Harry, yanking him down to the ground by his shirt and screaming at him. Harry felt the pee start streaming into his clothes, and no matter how hard he held himself, he couldn’t stop it. But wetting himself became the least of his problems as he felt his Uncle began to kick his legs and stomach, yelling and swearing that he might as well murder him.
“You’ve ruined Dudley’s birthday, you worthless, disgraceful idiot!”
“He’s wetting his jeans!” someone yelled.
“Oh my god, he’s actually doing it!” another laughed.
Harry curled into a ball as he felt the warm wetness flow across his crotch and down his legs until he was lying in a puddle on the kitchen floor, breathing heavily as the kicks to his frail body found solid targets. And, as he wet his pants and the entire room filled with the sound of shrieking laughter, as his Aunt and cousin cheered as he was kicked and slapped until Vernon had to take a break and catch his breath, Harry was unable to keep the tears at bay. His tears made them all laugh louder, but he was beyond caring, and sobbed until his Uncle’s hits stopped, and he was able to sprint pitifully to the cupboard under the stairs, where he barricaded himself before sinking to the floor and crying himself into an exhausted sleep.
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Thanks for all the positive feedback, everyone! I really really appreciate it. Here's the next chapter--3 and 4 are really one long chapter but I tried to find a place to split them up since this half is already crazy long.
This story's basically already written, I just have to go back and read the chapters over, so as long as you guys like what I'm posting, I can easily keep it going. Let me know what you think--if there are things you don't let me know too so I can try to improve future chapters. Enjoy, and thanks for reading :DChapter 3
Harry, Draco, and Snape were yanked out of Harry’s memory and transported back to the dungeons of Hogwarts. For a moment, no one spoke. Harry stared past Snape at the wall, his heart beating fast. He had never let anyone know the full extent of his treatment at the hands of the Dursleys, not even Ron and Hermione, but now his secret was out. He had always viewed his life on Privet Drive as entirely separate from Hogwarts, and now a small part of each had been merged together. He was too overwhelmed to feel anger towards Snape; he just wanted to be alone.At last, Snape cleared his throat. He had to force himself to look the boys in the eye as he moved the pensieve aside and folded his hands on his desk.“That is all,” he said, having a bit of trouble finding his voice.Harry and Draco stood to leave, twin pictures of anger and embarrassment.“However,” he said, raising his voice to a sterner tone. “Neither of you are to be allowed to enjoy the night’s end-of-term festivities, so both of you will spend the rest of your detention in the common room of Slytherin hall.”
Snape watched as the boys’ faces fell. It was more than likely they had wanted to be left alone with their demons, wanted time to sort through the violent memories they had just experienced once again.“I have work to do and do not intend to babysit the two of you all night,” Snape spat. He knew that if he were not firm, he would begin to apologize; he would begin to show his weakness. “If there is any trouble, or if I find that either of you have left, I will make your lives miserable next term. Is that clear? You will be free to go at ten.” Snape had improvised the last part. He hadn’t originally planned to keep the boys all night, but he did not believe either of the boys were ready to go back down to their friends. More than likely, in their fragile states they would begin gossiping about each other in order to cover their own pain, which would cause more trouble than Snape would know what to do with. His reputation as a teacher would be called into question. He already wished this detention had never happened, and he wished to forget it as quickly as possible. He didn’t think he would ever be able to look at his two feuding students in the same way again.“And boys,” Snape called when Harry and Draco were almost at the door. They both turned towards him, but neither met his gaze. “I’m sorry this went so far.”---Harry and Draco walked in silence to the Slytherin common room, Draco leading the way as Harry did not know the correct hallways to take. It was a short walk considering they were already in the dungeons, and although Harry had never been inside the Snakes’ common room, it was vaguely familiar, similar in decor to his own house’s, despite the green tones. That is, if you discounted the empty, hollow feeling of the bare dungeon walls and floors. The room was empty, all the students participating in the end of term festivities.The boys each threw themselves into an armchair in front of a dwindling fire. It was several moments for either of them spoke, both still in disbelief over what had just occurred.“So, you’re as much of a loser at home as you are here?” Draco asked caustically. Harry was ready.“You still pee your bed, momma’s boy?”Draco stood up as if ready for a fight, his eyes ablaze. They had reached a sore subject, and both of their nerves were shot. Harry, realizing they were both in a vulnerable place, made a half-hearted gesture of apology before the fight escalated and became physical. Draco calmed after glaring at him for a steady minute.“Look,” Harry said, “Neither one of us wants the other going around telling secrets.”Draco nodded and then sighed. “F*** Snape,” he said, slamming his fist on the arm of the chair. Harry could swear the blonde looked like he might cry.“We’re even.” Harry said, trying not to think of the reputation he would gain were the story to be skewed by Draco’s sick sense of judgment while he spread the rumors through the entire school. “If one tells, the other’ll tell.”Draco took a minute to compose himself before replying.“We’re not even, Potter,” he said, relying once again on malice, “you know far more about me than I know about you.”“Malfoy, you saw everything Snape showed me.” “What he showed you about me was far worse than what he showed me about you.”Harry was getting confused, but he was trying to follow along, “Malfoy, what you saw about me was pretty effin’ messed up.”“I know you have a son of a bitch Uncle and cousin. You know that I wet the---that I used to wet the bed, that it was bad enough that I had an effing plastic sheet on the bed, that…that my father....”Harry looked up in surprise. Malfoy was actually crying. His voice broke, and he tried to wipe his eyes with his arm before Harry saw, but it was useless.“Shit!” he yelled, when he realized that Harry was seeing his weakness. He got up and retreated to the other side of the room to look out the only window, which was simply a picture spelled to mimic the weather outside above the dungeons.Harry was shocked. He had never thought he would see Malfoy cry. The boy looked so young and scared. Did his father still treat him the way he had in the memory, relying on embarrassment and shame to put Draco in his place? Harry suspected the memory had brought back a flood of various punishments similar to the one Snape had shown them; it certainly had for Harry.“Draco, look,” Harry said, getting up and going over to the blonde boy, “wetting the bed is a common thing when you’re young.” Harry watched Draco wipe his face on his sleeve. Why was the boy so upset? Hadn’t he just seen Harry wet his pants in front of a whole roomful of people? Why wasn’t Draco investing all his energy into planning his destruction of Harry’s reputation? Harry tried not to think of that day of Dudley’s birthday party. Being reminded of it so vividly left him with a horrible sense of dread; he was still worried that he might be sick from seeing it all again. “Spare me the sympathy, Potter,” Draco spat, pulling away from the taller boy and flinging himself back into the armchair by the fireplace, “maybe it’s common to a weak-willed wizard like you, but—“Draco was once again attempting to hide his tears.“But not for a Malfoy?” Harry finished. He took the seat next to Draco, who was looking small and helpless in the oversized armchair, his face streaked with tears.“I used to get beaten for it,” Harry said quietly after the boys had sat in silence for a time.Draco did not look up, yet Harry could tell he was shocked by the admission that he had once been a bedwetter as well. “Yeah, me too,” Malfoy whispered, pulling at an errant string on a pillow next to him.“I did it once in my first week as a first year. McGonagall found me in the middle of the night trying to run away. I was sure they were going to beat me and then kick me out of school.” Harry wasn’t sure why he was being so truthful. He knew his admissions could very well be used against him, but Draco had yet to stop crying, and Harry felt somehow endeared to the picture the small blonde boy made when he was curled up in misery in the armchair across from him. The memory had only shown the beginning of what Harry assumed was a childhood of abuse and embarrassment. It seemed, for the first time, that Draco’s anger and bullying were hiding a deep pain, and Harry would have said anything to make him feel better at that moment.Harry’s story elicited a small smile from Draco, and he wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his robe.“You still did it when you came here?” Draco asked, trying to sound incredulous.Harry turned red, “Well, you know…new situations and all…only once or twice….who…who hasn’t as a first year?”Draco nodded, looking at the floor to hide the new tears welling up in his eyes. Harry observed with sympathy. He had never seen the vulnerable side of the usually domineering seventeen-year-old, and he felt an unusual sense of pity for him. He almost felt he understood what Draco was feeling.“You…” Harry didn’t know how to ask it without sounding accusatory. “You still wet the bed, don’t you?” Draco jumped up from the chair and once again retreated to the window.“No! F*** off! How many seventeen year olds do you know that pee their bed, Potter? Jeez!”Harry followed Draco slowly, understanding that he had hit a nerve. Draco was turned towards the wall, cheeks flushed in anger and arms folded across his thin chest. Harry approached with caution and tried to comfort the boy by placing his hand on Draco’s shoulder, but his touch set Malfoy off.The blonde turned and threw a punch at Harry, landing it square on his jaw and sending him to the floor. Harry was enraged. He had simply been trying to help this obviously troubled kid. Getting up off the ground, Harry lunged at Draco, and the two began throwing punches. They soon had each other by the shoulders, and were attempting to wrestle each other to the ground. Draco threw another punch, and Harry caught him by the wrist before he could make contact. The boys stared at each other with expressions of anger and vehemence. Harry glared at Draco, annoyed that his gestures of compassion had turned to expressions of violence. Draco stared back, an intensely fierce anger in his eyes. They were locked in a staring match. After a moment, however, Draco’s expression crumpled, and the boy sunk to the floor in defeat and sorrow, the tears once again flowing. Harry thought he realized now why Draco was never seen anywhere without Crabbe and Goyle; he truly did need protection. “I’m sorry,” Draco mumbled, drawing his knees to his chest and hiding his face in his arm as he sobbed.Without a second thought, Harry fell to the ground and wrapped his arms around Draco. He let him cry for as long as he needed to, not bothering to shush him or even to lie to him and tell him it would be alright. He simply held the boy, letting him know that he was there, and before long Draco turned and cried against Harry’s shoulder, allowing himself to be held for the first time in many years. The boys sat against the wall underneath a bewitched window after Draco had sobbed out first his embarrassment of the day and then the pain and embarrassment he had been made to feel for years of not living up to others’ expectations. They sat close; suddenly and unexpectedly, boundaries no longer existed between them.“My father still beats me for it,” Draco finally whispered, unable to keep the embarrassment from flushing his cheeks bright red. “He says no son of his is going to be a weakling pants-wetting baby,” Draco said softly, wrapping his arms around his knees.“Couldn’t you lie? Just scourgify the sheets?”“He knows a counter-charm. He can always tell.”Harry nodded.“And I’m too scared to say it in the dorm. What if someone heard me?”Harry shrugged. He had heard each boy in his dorm perform scourgify over the past few years at one point or another, some far more than others. Although he had always assumed most of them weren’t cleaning up pee. It was a joke among the boys, who had had a wet dream and stained sheets. He guessed that was not the case in the Slytherin dorms.“Listen, if you tell anyone--,” Draco began.“I won’t. I know what it’s like to be beaten for something that’s not your fault. You don’t need more trouble.”Draco nodded his thanks. He actually believed Harry would keep his word.“Malfoy,” Harry began, unsure of whether he was actually about to confess what he was. “When I told you before that I only wet the bed my first year…um…that wasn’t really the truth.”Draco looked up, not sure what to think. His heart was beating fast.Harry continued, looking down at the floor.“I…um…sometimes I still pee the bed, too.”Draco looked up, skeptical as to whether Harry were telling the truth or simply fooling around to taunt him. “Sure you do,” he said, passing Harry’s sincerity off as an act. He rolled his eyes and slunk further down the wall, shoving himself away from Harry.Harry turned and looked directly at Draco.“I mean it, Draco,” he said. Draco looked up. Harry could not believe he had ever seen him look so innocent.“Really?” Draco asked. His eyes betrayed the hope behind the question.“Yes,” Harry said, but he did not want to mislead Draco. He quickly added, “But it’s, um, not like what happens to you. I…I, um…pee the bed on purpose,” Harry mumbled, breathing heavily. He had not meant to tell him yet; he only thought Draco would feel better if he had an ally. But he didn’t want to lie to him either; it was not like Harry ever had a true accident. Well, not since his second year. Draco looked up at the taller, darker boy in disbelief. Here he was wishing for nothing else except that he could stop wetting the bed, and Harry peed himself on purpose.“Oh,” Draco relayed. He was pulling at his bottom lip. Harry didn’t know what Draco’s reaction was. “Yeah,” he said, swallowing hard.Draco suddenly looked up in confusion, “Why?” he asked frankly.Harry snorted in laughter. He guessed it did sound somewhat ridiculous.“It…I don’t know…I guess I just like it,” Harry admitted, his cheeks red with embarrassment, but not shame. He had long given up the shame he felt. wetting his bed was something he did for himself. After all he had been through, he didn’t see any harm in it.Draco took a breath as if preparing to ask something else, or to repeat his question in order to push for a better answer. “Let’s go sit by the fire. It’s getting cold over here,” Harry said before Draco could speak up, getting up off the floor and once again taking his seat in the armchair.Draco followed slowly, and it was a few long moments before either boy spoke. It was Draco who finally kept the conversation going. Harry was actually relieved that he did, as he had become frightened that he had broken the ease that they had found with his recent admission when he moved back to the fireplace.“How often do you do it?” Draco asked suddenly, as if he had been trying to think of something to say for the past five minutes.Harry ran a hand through his hair as he shrugged.“Not very often ‘cause I’m always scared someone’ll find out and ask me about it, like a prefect or a teacher or they’ll send me to Madame Pomfrey or something. But…but if I wake up in the middle of the night because I have to pee, or…or if…I wake up early, before the other guys…I pee in bed,” Harry mumbled, glancing at Draco to gauge his reaction.The smaller boy looked at Harry and nodded.“I used to be like that, too,” Draco whispered, “I liked the idea of breaking the rules and soaking the bed. That was when I was really young, though, before I started having real accidents. But, for me…I guess it was mostly about being taken care of…I…I always knew my mum would be there for me if I went to her with wet pants, you know? It’s not like she could ignore something like that.”Harry glanced at the floor, wishing that had been the case for him and instead remembering the times his Aunt Petunia made him stand outside on winter mornings in his wet pajamas, the times his Uncle Vernon had made him “hold it” until he wet his pants at the dinner table in order to train him to keep his bed dry, and his Cousin Dudley holding him down on the bed in the cupboard under the stairs and tickling him until he was squeezing his crotch, begging him to stop, and finally his jeans and bed becoming soaked in hot pee, and then Dudley running and telling his parents that he had found Harry sitting on his bed wetting on purpose.Harry was startled out of his bad memories when he felt Draco’s hand on his shoulder. He was standing next to Harry’s chair; Harry hadn’t noticed him get up out of his own.“Hey,” Draco said quietly, his voice sounding softer than Harry had ever heard it before, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up…I mean, your mum and all…I just…”Harry tried to smile as he glanced up at Draco. He hadn’t been thinking about his mom, although he knew she would never have been mad were he to wet the bed.“Don’t worry about it,” Harry said.The blonde boy took a seat on the arm of Harry’s chair, Harry moving aside to make room for the boy’s feet on the seat cushion. Draco began to remove his heavy school robes.“It’s warm by the fire,” he explained.Harry nodded, shedding himself of his long black robes as well. Both boys were wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Harry noticed that Draco looked even smaller without his robes, younger than his seventeen years. He did, however, have some definition to his arms. No doubt a benefit of the hours of Quidditch practice he was said to put in.“You know,” Draco told Harry as he settled once again on the arm of the chair, “I have a feeling Snape enjoyed watching those embarrassing memories tonight.”“What do you mean?” Harry asked, more than intrigued.“Did you see how quickly he ushered us away? No moral lecture, no excess scolding, nothing.”“So, maybe he really just had a lot of work to do,” Harry said, not entirely convinced.“Maybe, but I’ve run into Snape a few times when he seemed pretty jittery, as if he waited a bit too long to nip off for a pee.”“What? How could you tell?” Harry asked, incredulous.“I notice that kind of thing. I look out for it. Like that time last term in Potions when you nearly didn’t make it through class without wetting yourself.”“Bugger off. That didn’t happen,” Harry said, attempting to hide his embarrassment.“You were grabbing yourself by the end of the lesson,” Draco said, with his eyebrows raised. Harry flushed in embarrassment. “Why do you think Snape lets all the girls go to the bog and not the boys?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “He likes watching us squirm.” Draco scoffed. I should stay after and pee myself for him someday. He’d probably pass me automatically.”Harry chuckled at Draco’s audacity.“I kind of did once,” He confessed without thinking.Draco looked at the boy in disbelief. Harry could see that he had genuinely surprised him.“What?” Draco asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.“Yeah. It wasn’t a big deal,” Harry mumbled. He instantly regretted bringing up the subject.“You’re just going to mention that in passing and not fill me in?” Draco asked.Harry was not making eye contact. Somehow wetting himself during the day seemed a worse infraction than the times he had pissed his bed intentionally. He didn’t like to admit to a loss of control, especially to Malfoy.“It was nothing,” Harry said. “I don’t even really remember it.”Harry realized too late that he had hurt Draco’s feelings by appearing to not trust him.“Sure you don’t,” Draco replied sardonically, swinging his legs off of the seat of the chair to walk away from Harry, towards the fireplace.“It’s embarrassing,” Harry sighed. “I don’t like to remember it.”“Whatever.”Harry had to admit that Draco looked cute when he was being stubborn. “Okay, fine.” Harry groaned. Draco turned back towards Harry and sat in the armchair across from him, waiting for him to begin. Harry was always impressed by just how skilled Draco was at getting what he wanted.“My first year,” Harry began reluctantly, “I…I had to stay after for detention and it was just me and him. I forgot to go bathroom before I went, and of course I was sure he wouldn’t let me leave once I was there. He was making me write out the potion that we had been mixing in class that day over and over and I...I was squirming like crazy. “I was a little scared first year. I couldn’t remember the last time I had to pee so bad and I was with the teacher who scared me more than anything else. I kept writing but I had to start squeezing my crotch every once in a while because I was afraid I was about to pee my pants. I...I had a really weak bladder back then. Once I had to go, there was a very short amount of time before I either found a bathroom or I was feeling warm and wet down. My Aunt and Uncle never really cared to emphasize the whole potty training thing,” Harry said before realizing that he was giving away too much information to a boy that he wasn’t sure he could trust. He cleared his throat as his cheeks flushed.“So you had to pee and Snape wouldn’t let you,” Draco prompted, wanting Harry to finish the story.“Yeah,” Harry said quietly, nodding, “Uh, well, I knew I was getting to that point where I was going to pee soon, whether that be in the bathroom or in my pants. But I was so scared so I just kept writing and by then I was holding myself without stopping and squeezing hard. I knew it was going to happen any minute, knew that I was going to pee in my pants like a baby. I just kept thinking that Snape would scream at me that way my Uncle used to…you know, I was just a kid, I didn’t know that the way my Uncle treated me was any different from the way I was going to be treated here. I…I thought I was going to be beaten, like every time I pissed myself and my Uncle found out, or even when I asked to use the bathroom when we were in town or at someone’s house, anytime it was inconvenient. I was squeezing my legs together and grabbing myself until it hurt trying to keep it back. I could tell I was going to have an accident, and…and, I don’t know…everything sort of felt so overwhelming at once. I was suddenly in a new school, had just been told I was a wizard, that I was the damn boy-who-lived. I suddenly got very nostalgic for my mum and dad. And I...I started to cry. I tried to hide it, but I was so focused on keeping my pants dry that I guess I couldn’t stop Snape from noticing.“I guess Snape heard me, and he asked me what was wrong. It was the first time he had ever called me ‘Harry’, and not ‘Potter’. Draco nodded, signalling for Harry to continue.“I begged him to let me go to the lavatory. I guess he realized how close I was to losing it because he gave me permission to go. I was so embarrassed because I couldn’t stop holding myself as I got up. I made it about two steps before I started to pee myself. I froze, you know, trying to cross my legs to stop peeing, but it was too late. I was wetting my jeans, and I couldn’t even pretend everything was fine, because Snape could hear pee splattering on the floor. There was nothing I could do. I stood there with my hands between my legs trying to stop it, and suddenly Snape was next to me, telling me to stop crying. I told him I couldn’t hold it and he put a hand on my shoulder and told me it was an accident, and he said, ‘just let it out.’ I didn’t really have much of a choice at that point, so I just spread my legs and pissed in my jeans. I soaked myself good.”Draco seemed amazed and shocked by the story.“What did Snape do?” He asked. “When I finished, I just stood there, not moving, still with one hand between my legs,” Harry said, half-laughing at the ridiculousness of the memory. “I was so scared Snape was about to yell and hit me, but he put an arm around me and brought me to Madame Pomfrey without saying a word. It’s the kindest he’s ever been towards me” Harry finished, looking off as if the scene were playing in front of him. “I haven’t thought of that night in years,” he said, running a hand across his face in exasperation.Draco slid from the arm of the chair onto the seat cushion, pressed against Harry. The oversized chair was more than large enough to accommodate both of them. The smaller boy took Harry’s hand in his and they simply sat with each other, glad to have found company where neither had expected it.“You were just a baby then,” Draco told him, “it was an accident.”Harry nodded, smiling weakly at the other boy.“Besides, I’m sure Snape about came in his pants watching you.”Harry threw Draco’s hand away and punched Draco in the shoulder..“You’re a sick pervert,” Harry scoffed, teasing Draco good-humoredly. “He’s effing ancient. He probably can’t even spunk anymore.”The boys laughed hard, Draco giggling out that Snape probably had a potion to fix that, sending them into convulsions. Yet, however hard they laughed, both boys were thinking that Snape wasn’t that old, and he was actually pretty effing hot. They had both created fantasies around the surly man in which he spanked them or made them hold their pee as long as they could. They kept that particular secret, however, both gasping for breath in their laughter.
Edited April 29, 2012 by 222foxface222
(see edit history) |
Again, thank you all so so much for the positive feedback. It's certainly put a smile on my face!
Here's the next chapter (really just a conclusion to chapter 3). As a warning, there's some male/male stuff going on, so if that squicks you, you may want to wait until chapter 5, or just skim through this one. Honestly there's nothing too intense (I actually edited some things out because I figured it may turn one or two people away), but there is kissing involved and some talk of more. There's not a ton of this throughout the story, but it does play a role in connecting the boys to each other and getting them to trust one other, so let me know if you're all okay with occasional male/male romantic scenes, or if you'd rather I tone them down. It's easy enough for me to edit things like this out--after all, I know not everyone is turned on by the same things I am! That said, enjoy, and please let me know what you think! Snape returns in Chapter 5 :)
Chapter 4
The boys sat in silence, watching the fire in the Slytherin fireplace dwindle down to almost nothing. Draco pressed down on his crotch as discreetly as he could; he could normally hold his pee for as long as he needed to, but he had felt the urge since rushing to make it on time to detention earlier that night, and he was beginning to worry. When he looked up, he realized Harry had seen him squeezing himself. He blushed bright red, suddenly feeling too close to Harry, pressed against him, sharing a chair.
“Need help there?” Harry asked, smirking somewhat mischievously.
Draco shook his head no, cheeks flushed. Harry had misinterpreted his actions; he thought he was getting hard, when really he just needed to take a pee.
Sighing, he settled back into the armchair, conscious of the way Harry's thigh pressed up against his own, of the way he could feel his chest rise and fall with his breathing. Although Draco had always preferred girls, he couldn’t help but notice that the Boy-Who-Lived showed up time and again in his most secret fantasies. For years now, he had tried to deny that there was a part of him which wanted nothing more than to meet Harry in some hidden hallway late at night for a quick snogging session or more. He wanted to know just how powerful the boy from the prophecy actually was, to feel what real importance was. The fantasies had always ashamed and confused him, but he had never been able to deny them completely.
He had not believed his eyes when he had seen Harry desperate to pee in Potions last term; it was exactly the kind of scenario he often played out in his head, except all of his fantasies ended with Harry’s loss of control, pee streaming down his legs and onto the floor forcefully. Draco had needed to skip his next class to deal with the excitement he felt wondering whether Potter had spurted into his pants before making it to the boy’s room, or, better yet, had started wetting himself underneath his robes uncontrollably.
“Can I ask you something?” Draco said, his thighs pushed tightly together next to Harry to help stave off his need to pee.
Harry nodded, looking at the blonde boy with a trust that Draco had never before seen out of the Gryffindor.
“Are you and Weasley…,” Draco paused, unsure how to phrase the question. “More than friends?” he said finally.
Harry laughed loudly, as if shocked by such a question. Draco felt stupid for asking it, and angry; imagining the dark-haired boy thought him an idiot.
“No,” Harry said emphatically as he caught his breath. “We’re best mates, but there’s nothing between us like that.”
“Oh,” Draco said, too embarrassed to look up at Harry. He squirmed in the armchair, wishing the detention were over and he could just leave to pee and go to sleep. Although there was the semblance of a strange connection forming between the boys, Draco felt as emotionally drained as he did after one of his father’s twisted punishments, and he was beginning to curse himself for letting Potter see him in such an emotional state earlier. What would his father say if he were to find out how he had been acting?
Standing quickly, Draco began pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, suddenly realizing just how vulnerable he had made himself to the boy who was supposed to be his sworn enemy. Over the course of a few fleeting hours, he had allowed Potter to see him with his guard down, had allowed him to drag out his deepest secrets. How had he let it go so far?
Harry seemed to sense Draco’s withdrawal and detachment as he watched the boy walk, distracted, back and forth across the room.
“Ron and I tried it once, but it wasn’t exactly his thing.” He said. Harry knew that he was possibly setting himself up for horrible rumors and gossip, but he couldn’t help it; Draco’s hang-dog expression was too cute to resist. “But, I don’t know...it might be mine.”
Draco looked up, the hopeful expression on his face making Harry’s admission worthwhile, even if Draco did tell the whole school the Gryffindor Golden boy sometimes fantasized about boys and not girls.
“Me too...maybe,” Draco whispered without thinking.
Damn it all to hell, those piercing green eyes made him feel weak, like he wanted to tell the boy his entire twisted life story, the abusive father, bedwetting, Death Eaters, and all. Draco wanted nothing more in that moment than for Harry to take him in his lap and hold him in his strong arms. He was just so tired of it all, of the act he had to live up to in order to profess the Malfoy family values in a way in which his father approved. He wanted someone to take care of him, for once.
“Will you stop pacing already, and come sit over here?” Harry asked, smirking. “You really are neurotic, you know that?”
Draco paused and looked sideways towards Harry.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, harshness edging into his tone.
“Nothing,” Harry smiled, standing and walking towards the blonde. “Just that you should stop worrying. Because I’m not going to tell anyone anything.”
“How do I know you’re--”
Draco’s words were stopped when Harry leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth. His first reaction was to pull back, shocked at the action. The surprise reminded him just how badly he needed the loo, and he squirmed where he stood.
Harry was looking at him in confusion.
“That’s not what you wanted?” he asked. “I thought...”
Draco felt dizzy, reeling from the touch of Potter’s mouth on his own. His father’s voice screamed at him in his mind, but his heart was beating too quickly to care. He met Harry’s gaze and attempted an explanation.
“It’s just...I’m...”
Lost for words, he reached forward and took Harry’s face in his hands, kissing him back. They kissed softly at first, each nervous and clumsy as they struggled to make sense of the situation. But soon they settled into each other and forgot to second-guess what was happening. Draco was lightheaded as he felt Harry’s touch, and he couldn’t help but reach down and hold himself, the urges to pee getting stronger and his blood pounded. It was hard to concentrate on keeping his pants dry when he was inches away from Harry Potter. He wanted to lie helplessly in the Gryffindor’s arms and lose all control.
As a sharp urge came over him, Draco was forced to pull away, twisting his body to the side as he pressed his legs together. He couldn’t stop squeezing himself. He forced himself to pry his hand away as soon as he realized that Harry had seen.
“I have to...go,” he admitted, blushing for the hundredth time that night as he realized how much of a child he sounded. He was unable to admit outright to his need, but had to bend at the waist and cross one leg over the other to keep from wetting himself. Harry’s intense gaze made him nervous.
“How long have you been holding it?” Harry asked.
Draco shrugged, his face worried.
“I haven’t gone since just before lunch,” he said in a strained voice.
“You’re a big boy,” Harry whispered as he stepped close to Draco. “Big boys can hold it.”
Draco shivered, his stomach fluttering as Harry spoke down to him. The dark-haired boy was speaking as if he were in control of Draco’s body instead of Draco himself. The girls Draco had been with had never treated him like that; they had always expected him to be the dominant, self-sufficient one in the relationship. It was a welcome change.
His breath hitched in his throat as Harry rested the palm of his hand on Draco’s arm. He bent down until he caught the blonde’s eye. “Is this okay?” he asked. Draco nodded desperately; he didn’t know what exactly it was they were doing, but he knew he did not want it to stop by any means. In a moment, Harry wrapped his hand around Draco’s wrist and yanked it towards him, forcing the desperate boy’s hand out from between his legs.
“Ah!,” Draco moaned, the feeling that he was about to wet himself causing him to dance in place. “I really have to go, Harry.” He reached around with his free hand, needing to hold himself to keep his pants dry. But Harry was too fast, and soon he was holding Draco by both wrists, and the boy was left hunched over, scissoring his legs back and forth in a desperate attempt not to pee himself.
“Big boys hold their pee,” Harry ordered. “You better not have an accident.”
But that was exactly what Harry wanted to happen. He wanted Draco to lose control, wanted to see the liquid stream into his jeans and soak him. Draco felt vulnerable, desperate to pee with nowhere to go. He knew he could more than likely break free of Harry and still make it to the boys’ lavatory down the hallway, but he didn’t want to leave; he wanted to be with Harry.
Leaning forward, he kissed Harry again, their teeth clicking. Draco tasted blood. As Harry placed his hands on Draco’s stomach, the blonde gasped. He felt a spurt of warmth in his briefs and moaned pitifully.
“I can’t hold it,” he breathed between kisses. “I have to go so bad.”
Harry kissed Draco’s neck, his lips against the pale, smooth skin. “Don’t you dare wet yourself,” he said, reaching a hand up and placing his palm under Draco’s sharp jaw, angling the boy’s head up so he would kiss him once again.
“Oh, Merlin,” Draco said through clenched teeth, his body tense. He was about to wet himself, while he was awake. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this desperate, clinging onto the belief that he could hold it if he just tried hard enough.
Leaning against Harry as they kissed, he pressed both hands between his legs, gasping when he felt another spurt soak into his underwear. Harry seemed to be oblivious to what was happening, and in a moment grabbed Draco around the waist, trying to lead him towards a chair. But, as he pulled Draco off-balance, the boy felt his final semblance of control slip away.
“Shit, I can’t...Potter...I...” Draco squeezed hard, but he could not stop the hot stream of pee which suddenly began wetting his pants. He wriggled and grabbed, his stomach filling with a cold dread as he felt the warm wetness fill the crotch of his jeans.
“F***, I’m doing it,” he gasped. “I’m wetting my pants.”
Harry breathed heavily, watching closely as the wet patch on Draco’s jeans grew larger and began snaking down his legs.
“Shit, I can’t stop it,” Draco moaned. “Oh, Merlin!”
The pee soaked Draco’s legs, the warm relief almost overcoming the embarrassment of wetting his jeans like a child. Harry watched in awe, amazed at how much Draco seemed to have been holding. The blonde shivered in relief, hands wet in his crotch and jeans dripping and heavy.
“I can’t effing stop,” he gasped
Draco collapsed against Harry, the final trickles of pee escaping into his sodden jeans. At last, the stream stopped, and he was grateful that Harry’s strong arms were wrapped around him; he was liable to fall to the ground were he not being supported. Guiding him backwards, Harry helped Draco to sit before resting next to him on the arm of the chair.
“I’m...I’m sorry,” Draco mumbled at last. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
“Hey,” Harry said, catching his breath as he turned to look down into Draco’s shamed eyes. “That was bloody amazing, okay?”
“But I didn’t mean to,” Draco said, staring at the floorboards. He worried Harry would find the whole act childish now that he was sitting there in cold, sodden clothes.
“That’s what made it so bloody brilliant,” Harry said. He held Draco’s face upwards by the chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. “Listen to me. You just acted out something I’ve fantasized about since the first time I saw you and my stomach flipped in a way it never had before. Before you, I barely knew what it was to be turned on. When Ron and I did it, I had to picture you beneath me. Why are you embarrassed?”
Draco was shocked by Harry’s admission. He had thought himself twisted and insane for lusting after the boy-wonder. He never imagined the feelings would be reciprocated.
“I don’t know,” Draco whispered. “It’s just...losing control like that...you know, awake. It’s not exactly something my father would be proud of.”
“You’ve never done that before?” Harry asked, surprised.
Draco sighed, pulling out his wand and saying a few simple drying and cleansing spells.
“I have, I just don’t like to think about it, I guess.”
“When was the last time?” Harry asked. “I’m sure it was far more embarrassing than this.”
Draco glanced up at Harry, trying to gauge his reaction. What if he was simply trying to get as much information as possible in order to ruin Draco completely throughout Hogwarts and the entire wizarding community? But Draco had never seen such a genuine expression as that which Harry had, a small smile and those warm, comforting eyes. They reminded him of his mother’s.
“Um…it was fourth year. In class.”
“In class?” Harry asked, shocked.
Draco nodded. “Right in the middle of Divination. Professor Trelawney was doing this long, drawn out séance-thing, and I just couldn’t hold it. I just sat there and went right into my robes and I even soaked the pillow I was sitting on.”
Harry looked at Draco with his eyes wide.
“I know,” Draco said, “But I couldn’t help it. It wasn’t as if I could have gotten up and left in the middle of her blabbering. I tried to hold it, but I just...couldn’t.”
“Did anyone find out?”
Draco nodded, his face somber.
“The crazy bitch Trelawney must have known. She told Snape, and he called me into his office for a ‘chat.’ I had to practically beg him not to tell my father.”
“You were lucky she didn’t announce it to the whole class,” Harry said, remembering the Divination classes he had been made to suffer through, and Trelawney’s predictions of his death.
Draco nodded.
“But she is a crazy bitch,” Harry said.
The boys smirked at that, Draco laughing out loud in a cathartic release, dismissing Professor Trelawney as a crazy old bat lady who really knew nothing more than what was right in front of her. He had always felt ashamed that she had known of his accident, wondering whenever he saw her if she would bring it up or tell his father someday, but it suddenly seemed less important. Having Harry cast her off as nothing more than a crazy bitch made Draco believe he didn’t need to feel judged anymore. She wasn’t worth his time.
“You think Snape ever imagined this is what would happen if he sequestered us to one room for the night?” Draco asked after a moment. He moved over in the armchair to rest his head against Harry’s thigh. He felt as if he had a protector.
Harry snorted out in laughter in a way Draco found endearing.
“I guess he was right,” Harry said as he placed his hand on the top of Draco’s head protectively. “we’ve got more in common than we thought.”
--- |
Here is Chapter 5. Not really any warnings here, the chapter just moves the plot forward a bit more (for that reason, there's some wetting, but no real desperation scenes). I know sometimes the pace is fairly slow for these first few chapters, but things pick up soon, so I hope you don't mind! The general consensus seems to be that most of you are okay with the male/male scenes (or at least those of you who commented), so I won't edit them too much moving forward. Thanks for reading and enjoy--let me know how you like it!
Chapter 5
Harry lay in his four poster bed that night, his mind filled with questions he had no way of answering. The night had passed in a whir of tears and companionship. He felt both emotionally drained and physically charged, remembering Draco’s touch and all that had occurred between them. For once, he felt as if there was someone else in the world who understood what he had been through at the hands of his relatives, the torment and degradation that would seem astronomical to anyone who had not lived through it themselves. Anyone else would allow the knowledge to affect how they looked at him, would treat him as if he were made of glass, as if he were some pitiful ever-suffering child. But the fact of the matter was, although Harry hated the way his Uncle treated him, there was a part of him that never really believed the others when they said he did not deserve to be hit and kicked and screamed at, a part of him that just accepted the abuse as a fact he had learned to live with, a part of him that he knew only Draco could understand.
It was late, but Harry knew Ron was still awake; he could hear him moving around in the bed next to him, and although he couldn’t see him with their bed curtains drawn. He smirked at the fact that, whenever one of them seemed to have trouble sleeping, the other did as well. It was a convenient trait to find in a best friend.
“Ron, you awake?” He whispered, taking advantage of the fact that they were both awake.
“Mmhm,” he mumbled from Harry’s right. “Can’t sleep.”
Harry sat up in bed and leaned against his headboard.
“Why not?”
“Dunno,” Ron said, and Harry could hear the frustration in his voice. “Hey, what did Snape torture you with in detention, anyway?”
“Just writing lines,” Harry said. “I guess he was feeling unoriginal tonight.”
He felt a pang of guilt after lying to Ron, but he just wasn’t ready to tell him exactly what had happened in the dungeons earlier that night. It wasn’t like enemies became lovers overnight. And it wasn’t like Draco was his lover, either. But, then, what was he? He felt for once as if he had learned just who Draco Malfoy was, and he had liked what he learned. But who was to say the Slytherin was not about to go behind his back, that he was not at that very moment plotting the proper way to tell the entire school that the Boy-Who-Lived got excited when he pissed his sheets. But, deep down, he wanted to believe that Draco had been sincere, that a strange bond of trust had formed between them.
“You sure you don’t want to come back to the Burrow, tomorrow?” Ron asked, hopeful.
“Nah,” Harry said. “I think I need some time to myself.”
He knew Ron had been disappointed when Harry first told him he preferred to spend the first few weeks of summer at Grimmauld Place. Harry enjoyed spending time with the Weasleys’, but no matter how much they professed that they enjoyed his company, he could not shake the feeling that he was just one more burden for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Merlin knew they had enough on their plates already; they didn’t need another teenager to take care of. Besides, Harry was not used to the structure and familial atmosphere there always was at the Burrow, and although he found it refreshing, there was still a part of him that was uncomfortable fitting into the whole.
“You okay?” Ron asked. “You’re quiet.”
“Yeah, I guess. Just, you know, thinking about that detention.”
Harry heard Ron open the curtains around his bed, the curtain loops scraping along the wooden top of the frame, and he followed suit, turning onto his side until he could just make out Ron’s form in the darkness if he squinted.
“Forget about all that,” Ron shrugged. “You don’t have to deal with Snape or that little ferret until next school year.”
“Right,” Harry mumbled, wanting nothing more than to deal with Malfoy right that moment. He wondered if there were a way to sneak into the blonde’s room without his Slytherin roommates noticing. But he dismissed the thought, doubting he would even be able to remember his way back to the Slytherin dorms. He would have to contend himself with a quick glance at breakfast in the Great Hall before all the students departed for the Hogwarts’ Express. Then again, maybe he would skip breakfast; he felt sick at the thought of being forced to make snide remarks at the other boy’s expense to keep his friends from suspicion.
“Night, Harry,” Ron yawned, turning onto his back and closing his eyes.
Harry watched as Ron settled into sleep, his breathing steadying and his body relaxing. He had never known anyone to look quite so peaceful when they slept, so child-like. He knew he could never mention it to Draco without Ron hating him forever, but the youngest Weasley boy had struggled with his own bed wetting problems when they were first and second years. And, when Harry first began visiting the Burrow, he couldn’t help but learn that all the Weasley boys had dealt with the issue at one point in their lives, a loss of control passed down from their father that they all teased each other about. As far as most of them knew, Charlie had been the worst, wetting far into fourth year. But, as much as Ron tried to hide it, Harry knew there had been quite a few nights even this year Ron had pissed in bed; it seemed he was in some sort of relapse. Harry could always tell the next morning; Ron was generally short-tempered and sensitive for entire days after a wet night.
Making sure Ron was asleep, Harry quietly closed his bed curtains and rolled over onto his stomach. He spread his legs slightly and wriggled as he felt the fullness of his bladder. He hadn’t peed before bed despite the fact that he had been mildly desperate, and the urges were getting bad. Releasing, he concentrated on letting go, and in a moment was forcefully peeing through his briefs and pajama pants into his bed. He heard a hissing sound as the warmth spread across his sheets and mattress, soaking his flannel pants through the crotch and down his thighs towards his knees. Sighing at the release of tension, he thought about what it had been like to watch Draco wet his jeans earlier that day. He remembered the desperate look of fear that had crossed the boy’s face the moment he lost control, an expression that was a gorgeous mix of crippling shame and immense relief. Harry’s own relief was as acute as ever as he felt the pee pour into his pants and bed, leaving him lying in a puddle as he put his hands by his sides and breathed heavily with the final trickles of his wetting. He closed his eyes and thought of the blonde Slytherin, wanting to protect him, to make him believe he was worth caring for.
---
Draco woke with a gasp, feeling the final stream of pee wet his pajamas and already sodden sheets. Lifting the blankets, he could see he was soaked from his waist down past his knees, and swore to himself in anger and frustration. Why did this have to happen to him? He could hear others in his room moving around and cursed the fact that he had slept so late. For years, he had trained himself to wake before the others, to be the first one out of bed and in the showers so that no one would ever witness him in such a shameful situation. He could only assume that the events of the night before had resulted in a deeper sleep than usual, one that meant he had slept long past the time needed to clean up undetected. What was he going to do?
Sitting as still as possible on his wet mattress, he tried not to make a sound, hoping the others would assume he had chosen to sleep through breakfast. He heard his roommates shoving each other around as they made lewd jokes about how they would spend their summer vacation screwing girls and getting drunk.
“Should we wake Malfoy?” Goyle asked, causing Draco to freeze in his tracks and quickly yank the blankets over the wetness in case they opened his bed curtains.
“Nah, let him sleep or he’ll hex us all.”
As he heard them leave, Draco felt himself able to breathe once again. The room became quiet, and, after listening for a moment to make sure he was alone, he opened his curtains and climbed out of bed, plucking at the wet fabric sticking to his legs.
“Draco?”
The blonde spun around to find himself face to face with Blaise Zabini, who was staring wide-eyed, one eyebrow raised in what appeared to be bemusement. He was sitting on his bed, a book held between his hands. He stood and looked Draco up and down, his eyes lingering on Draco’s soaked pants before scanning towards his bed. The wet sheets and mattress were on full display, blankets folded back to reveal the soiled bed.
“Did you...,” Blaise scoffed in laughter, his generally superior tone of voice in full effect. “You pissed yourself?”
“N-no,” Draco stammered stupidly as Blaise laughed. “And if you say anything, I’ll make your life hell.”
He felt his cheeks hot with embarrassment but immediately felt a blinding anger, the type of anger he had learned from his father, the type of anger suitable for a Malfoy. He knew his words had not been believable, that he had not been forceful enough, and he feared that Blaise had seen through his threat. Blaise was so cocky he would take any chance he could get to put the others down, Draco especially. He would have rather had Crabbe or Goyle find out that he was a bedwetter; at least he would be able to intimidate them enough to keep their mouths shut. Nevertheless, he was going to have to think quickly to get the upper hand over his fellow Slytherin.
“Well, well, well. Wait until the others find out just how little of a man a known Death Eater’s son really is. I bet your father is so proud of his little teenaged bedwetter.”
Draco reached back onto his nightstand and grabbed his wand, but Blaise was too quick for his nervous state, and, after a hasty ‘expelliarmus’ Draco found himself defenseless.
“F*** off, Zabini,” Draco spat, standing taller. He squared his shoulders towards the boy, glaring at him in hatred.
“Pretty hard to act tough when you’re standing there in pissy pants, isn’t it?” Blaise smirked. “I’ll bet Pansy will be glad to know the guy she’s in love with wees his bed, don’t you?”
Draco balked at the admission that Pansy was in love with him, but at the moment that was the least of his worries. If Blaise told Pansy, the whole school would know in a matter of hours. She was the biggest gossip in Slytherin, which of course Blaise knew for a fact. Draco took menacing steps towards Blaise, and when the taller boy lashed out, he was able to duck the punch and spin on his heels to hit him in the face. The boy swore in rage as his nose began bleeding, and Draco readied himself for the larger boy to pounce. But, as he held his ground and waited for the impact, he heard the sound of the door opening. Taking advantage, Draco lunged at Blaise, and, while he was looking the opposite direction, punched him in the face with all his strength. The taller boy fell sprawling to the floor and lay still, knocked out.
Draco looked up, ready to curse out whichever of his roommates had come back for their shoes or homework assignments or porn magazines, but found himself face to face with Harry Potter. Harry grinned at Draco’s shocked expression, his invisibility cloak in his hands.
“Took me ages to find you,” he said. “I waited forever for someone to come along and give the password to your common rooms.”
Harry spelled Blaise with an ‘Obliviate’ charm before heaving the body out into the hallway just as the tall boy was beginning to come to. He closed the door, then turned back towards Draco.
Draco laughed out loud, suddenly happier than he had been all morning. He wanted to rush up and have Harry take him in his arms, but stopped himself, aware of the state of his pajamas and unsure just what Harry’s intentions were. For all he knew, he had come to tell him last night was a horrible mistake.
“Hey, Potter,” he said, feigning indifference.
“Aren’t you happy to see me?” Harry asked. He still stood by the door, unsure how Draco would react to him suddenly appearing in his dorm room. Draco may have had second thoughts about last night.
Draco nodded. “I guess,” he said sardonically. “Although I was enjoying kicking the shit out of Zabini.” he said, smiling sideways.
Grinning, Harry opened his arms and Draco rushed forward, burying his face into the boy’s broad chest. He took a step back when he realized he was pressed up against Harry, and was more than likely getting him wet, but couldn’t bear to leave the boy’s embrace.
“Need some help, there?” Harry asked. He quickly spelled Draco clean, then threw a cleansing and drying spell at his bed. “It’s a shame they don’t give marks for Drying spells,” he joked.
“I don’t want to go back, Harry.”
Harry wrapped his arms around the smaller boy and rested his chin on top of his head. He had hoped Draco would say this, he had been planning all morning what he would say to the blonde.
“Let’s go away,” Harry said. “Make something up to tell your father. We can go to Grimmauld Place and stay for the break. I’m not going back to the Dursley’s. They won’t care one way or another if I don’t show up.”
Draco pulled away from Harry and stared into his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to go away with Harry. He could spend the summer away from his father and mother, without their rebukes and disappointment. He knew Malfoy Manor had long ago ceased to hold any feelings of home for him. He was not welcome unless it was absolutely necessary; he was expected to be independent and self-sufficient. That didn’t mean, however, that he would be permitted to spend the summer outside of his father’s guidance.
“He won’t let me,” Draco said.
“We’ll think of something to tell him,” Harry said, words fast with encouragement. “Since when has he cared about you at all? You don’t deserve beatings, Draco.”
Harry couldn’t stand the idea of Draco returning to Malfoy Manor and being hit by Lucius. He recalled the many hours he had spent hiding in the attic, shaking as he waited for his Uncle Vernon to find him and beat him with the wooden spoon from the kitchen or his bare fists or his shoe. He placed his hand on Draco’s shoulder. Luckily, the beatings had lessened a bit once the Dursleys learned that he was a wizard. But there was no escaping it for Draco. Harry couldn’t explain why or how, but he felt closer to Draco at that moment than he had ever felt to anyone. He leaned forward and kissed Draco on the mouth, reaching a hand down to graze the waistband of the boy’s wet pajamas.
Draco pulled away and took a seat on his bed.
“Harry, I want to more than anything, but…” Draco trailed off, not wanting Harry to think him a baby for admitting he was scared. Harry followed him to his bed and sat next to him.
“I’ll be there, Dray. I’ll keep you safe.”
Draco knew that Harry was sincere. He had never had a true protector before, only Crabbe and Goyle, who protected Draco simply because he had grown up with them, and they liked the idea of fighting; Harry’s protection was different, and it felt good.
“I won’t let him hurt you,” Harry said.
Draco nodded, letting Harry know that he believed him. He actually felt that, if anyone had a chance against his father, it was Harry effing Potter.
Just as Draco was about to give in to Harry’s pleas, a black owl began pecking at the small window high up on the dungeon wall. Draco sighed and reached to let the bird in. It flew from the window and landed on the mantelpiece of the fireplace that stood between two of the boys’ beds. The boys looked at each other, concerned, as Draco explained that it was his father’s owl.
“Want me to read it?” Harry asked. Draco nodded, his eyes closed.
Harry untied the rolled-up parchment from the black owl’s leg.
“Draco—we have prepared for your arrival and will expect you at 2:00pm for a welcome inspection and a reiteration of the household strictures. –Lucius Malfoy.” Harry swore and threw the parchment into the fire. The note had made him more resolute that Draco was coming with him.
“I have to go home, Harry,” Draco mumbled. He felt miserable.
“Dray, screw him,” Harry pleaded. Draco’s heart swelled at the nickname. It sounded good, and made him want to kiss Harry right there. “You don’t owe him anything.”
“What will I tell him?” Draco asked.
“Tell him…tell him you’re sick and Madame Pomfrey has requested that you rest at Hogwarts for another week. After that, we’ll think of something.”
Draco shook his head. “He’d want a note directly from her.”
“Ok, then tell him you’ve been invited to a friend’s house for the break.”
“He says friends are a waste of time I could spend studying, and a detriment to self-definition.”
Harry scoffed at the sentiment of the remark, but was shocked at how well Draco could imitate his father. He began to feel as if there was no way his plan would work. He had spent the whole morning believing Draco would immediately agree to go away with him. He hadn’t taken into account Lucius Malfoy’s control over his son.
“I don’t want you to go,” Harry whispered. He took his seat back on the bed and held Draco’s hand.
“There’s nothing I can do,” Draco said. He turned to kiss Harry softly, wanting to ensure Harry knew his choice would be with him if he had any control of the situation.
The door opened and both boys scrambled to get away from each other. Draco rushed to the fireplace, leaving Harry standing next to his bed.
“Draco, why are you still---” Professor Snape stopped in the doorway, staring at the two boys.
“Well,” he said, “What do we have here? Now why would a Gryffindor be down in the Slytherin dungeons?”
Neither boy knew what to say.
“Draco?” Snape prompted. He looked as if he were pleased at the absurdity of the situation, unable to keep from grinning or to keep the humor out of his voice. Harry believed Snape would like nothing more than to torture them with this situation for years to come.
“Um,” Draco began, “We—ah…” Draco looked like he would be sick.
“Well? Speak up.”
“He didn’t have anything to do with it,” Harry began, “It was me, I--”
Snape whipped his head towards Harry.
“I don’t believe I was speaking to you,” he spat.
Draco cleared his throat, having more courage once Harry had been singled out.
“I invited him to come, Uncle Severus,” Draco said.
Harry’s eyebrows raised at Draco’s use of ‘Uncle.’
Snape had been a close family friend of the Malfoys for many years, and Draco had grown up calling him “Uncle.” It had always been forbidden within any context at Hogwarts, but he had often slipped back into the name when they were in private. He knew it held a certain weight with the man, whom Draco knew loved him as if he were his own son. Growing up, Draco had often wished he could live with Snape instead of his heartless excuse for a father.
Snape turned from Draco to Harry.
“Leave,” he ordered. He spoke calmly, yet Harry did not think twice about disobeying, especially after Draco nodded at him, signaling that he would be alright. He closed the door and sunk to the floorboards in the hallway, leaning his back against the wall as he tried to imagine just how Snape would react to the entire situation. |
Thanks for all the wonderful comments you guys (not enough time today to respond to them all because I just have a second to post this chapter, but please know they are really really appreciated and I of course love to know what you're thinking about the story). I'm also really glad to hear that some of you (Sunny, Wolf) have been inspired to write fanfiction, too--I hope you do write them and post for all of us to enjoy! :D
Here's Chapter 6--Enjoy, and let me know what you think, please!
Chapter 6
Once Harry had left the dormitory and the door was closed, Snape turned back to the small Slytherin. He raised his eyebrows, sighing as he cursed the situation. Nothing could ever go smoothly. Ever since that morning, he had been dealing with whiny students begging for him to raise their grades and moody Slytherins who wanted to do nothing less than clean their dorm rooms of a year’s worth of candy wrappers and half-completed homework assignments. He felt as if he hadn’t had a break all morning, and was looking forward to nothing more than having full months pass without having to listen to the trivial problems and over-exaggerated complaints of the spoiled Slytherin students.
He had hoped to retreat to his office after breakfast and sit quietly until the final students had packed up and gone. He had been expecting not to be disturbed, but that had not been the case, and as early as seven in the morning two disgruntled second-years had come to him at each others’ throats, arguing over which of them would be allowed to keep the remaining flask of some potion they had brewed together in class. Since that moment, his office had been inundated with the blithering idiots who were the hopeless future of the wizarding world, and he hadn’t had a moment to himself. The only solace he took was the feeling of his bladder filling over the course of the morning, a feeling that excited him, a feeling that he often let himself get to, knowing it turned him on. The moment he found a bit of peace, the charms on the dorm rooms had alerted him to the fist fight that had occurred in the sixth-year boys’ dorm between Malfoy and Zabini. Throwing on his robes, he stormed down the hallway. He was expecting to have to break up a fight and take points, although he felt a certain smugness that Draco had finally given the prat Zabini what was coming to him. He had never expected to find Potter in the midst of the Slytherin dorm, practically joined to Malfoy’s side.
“Mr. Malfoy, would you care to explain?” he prompted. He kept his voice stern but knew the boy would recognize the hint of concern that was hidden beneath it all. He had known Draco since he was a child; he was the closest thing he had to a son and he had been worried sick about the boy since the night before, since the utter fuck-up of a detention.
“My father wants me to return to Malfoy manor, but I don’t think I can go back,” Draco told him.
“And why is that?” Snape asked, crossing his arms. He allowed the frustration to edge into his voice since the boy was obviously evading the real issue at hand. Draco was humoring him, attempting to distract him by bringing up an entire issue entirely. It was a tactic Draco had used since childhood, and Snape had long become familiar with each of his ploys and the best way to handle them.
Draco was silent, looking down at the floorboards and tapping one hand against the post of his bed. Snape crossed the room and confronted the boy, keeping his legs spread a bit apart because it made him feel just a bit more in need of a pee. He had a long way to go until he was desperate, having spent much of his life building up a strong bladder. Nevertheless, just knowing he was on his way made him excited for what would come later. But, at the moment, he needed to deal with his godson’s current strange choice of friends. When Lucius and Narcissa had suggested he be a godparent, he had never assumed he would be playing interference between the Malfoy heir and the Boy-Who-Lived.
“Draco? Would you rather I send for your father and the three of us discuss this?”
The boy looked up quickly and shook his head. Snape could tell that he was trying to remain confident and adult, that, for whatever reason, he was trying to impress him. He was longing to speak to the boy about the memory he had seen the night before; he needed to know whether the abuse was still occurring, but he knew Draco was likely to lie if confronted. He would wait until the boy brought up the topic himself.
“I am a man now, and I am not going to allow Lucius to degrade me,” Draco said.
“I see,” Snape said. He had never heard Draco speak up about his father before, but he knew Lucius would not appreciate the disdain in the boy’s voice.
“I do not deserve to be treated like a child by him,” Draco continued.
“Draco, your father is only doing what he believes the best for you. Stop this nonsense.”
“He still beats me, Uncle,” Draco admitted. There was an anger in his eyes that Snape only saw in Draco’s most impassioned moments.
Caught off guard at the admission, Snape settled back into his deep, distant voice and stood straight over the boy.
“I think we need to discuss this with Lucius. You certainly are still a child, Draco, if you resort to fabrications such as this.”
“It’s the truth, Uncle,” Draco said. “When I returned from the Christmas holidays with a broken wrist, and I said I tripped on the train while we were on our way to Hogwarts, that wasn’t true. My wrist had been broken for weeks. He knocked me to the ground and refused to have it healed.” He spoke calmly, knowing any hint of hysteria would hurt his case.
“For what reason?” Snape asked. He expected Draco to have no answer to this, and to be caught in the lie or forced to admit his own transgressions in the matter.
Draco looked down at the ground.
“I…” Draco hesitated for only a moment. “I can’t stop wetting the bed.”
The boy spoke clearly, more than likely not wanting to have to repeat it. Draco had often stayed over at Snape’s house when he was younger; The Malfoys trusted no one to babysit except their old friend. And there had certainly been times when Draco peed the bed while at Snape’s house, although it had been a rare occurrence. Despite the memory the night before, Snape had never imagined the boy still dealt with the problem. He just assumed he had grown out of it some years ago.
Snape cleared his throat and walked closer to the boy. Turning to spell the door shut, he opened his arms and allowed the boy to step close as he hugged him to his chest. Despite the fact that Snape and Lucius had long been good friends, he resented many of the ways his friend had raised Draco, beatings being one that they had long ago fought over. Until the memory he had seen the night before, Snape believed the physical violence had stopped years ago. But if what the boy was saying was true, the abuse had never stopped. Had Draco simply been trained never to admit to the violence?
"I can't go back there, Uncle."
Snape was not embarrassed that his seventeen year old godson still wet his bed; as the head of Slytherin he had seen that be the case with numerous boys, and he knew Draco did not deserve to be beaten for it. Hell, when they were boys, Lucius had his own problems with wetting the bed, which perhaps explained the vehemence behind his punishments towards Draco. Snape would not be surprised if he hit Draco to hide his own shame, which still existed somewhere deep down. Snape remembered one night the other boys in their dorm had all found out Lucius had pissed the bed; he had needed to beat up quite a few people to stop the rumors, but even when they stopped, Lucius knew everyone whispered about Hogwarts’ biggest bully still wetting the bed like a baby.
“And Potter?” Snape asked, eyebrows raised.
“He wants me to spend the summer at Grimmauld Place, Uncle Severus,” the boy said, lifting his head off his Head of House’s chest to look up at him. “He doesn’t want Lucius to hurt me,”
Draco couldn’t keep some admiration out of his voice, and Snape recognized the happiness. It was a long time before Snape spoke, standing still in front of the boy as he thought through the situation. At that moment, he cursed his full bladder nagging at him, needing to concentrate on the issue at hand, but he pushed it to the back of his mind and considered the options available in terms of Draco and Potter.
“I will talk to your father,” he said finally. “I will tell him you will be working with me this holiday as a laboratory assistant. You and Potter will leave today.”
If there was anything he had learned over the years, he knew there was no sense in appealing to Lucius for a better treatment of the boy. The man was stuck in his ways, and nothing Snape could say would keep him from beating Draco. Snape loved the boy as if he was his own, and he did not want him to be hurt, which was why he was nervous about letting him leave with James Potter’s son. However, despite the unconventional pairing, he knew Draco had placed his trust in the boy, and nothing Snape could say to the contrary would sway his opinion. He just hoped there was more of Lily in the dark-haired boy than James.
Snape turned and left the room before Draco could thank him, already regretting the decision.
“I will be checking up on the two of you, Mr. Malfoy,” he said formally as he removed the spell from the door and left the room. Turning the corner, he nearly tripped on Potter, who was sitting with his legs sprawled in front of him on the floor. The boy scrambled to his feet and looked up in what, for once seemed to be actual penitence. He had to give Potter credit; the boy was certainly good at making it look like he actually gave a damn about Malfoy.
“Take care of him or I’ll feed you to the Giant Squid myself,” Snape said without stopping. He continued down the hallway as Potter raced into the dorm room behind him.
Rubbing his eyes, he retreated back to his office, where a group of fourth-year girls were waiting for him to settle an argument over which of them should be responsible for the damage caused the night before when they had decided to attempt dying each others’ hair using spells they had found in an old Woman Wizard’s Weekly magazine. He cursed his job as Head of House, longing for the solitude of an empty castle free of students and the relief he would find later that night, when he was desperate enough to find release in the simple ecstasy of wetting into his robes.
Edited May 3, 2012 by 222foxface222
(see edit history) |
Alright, here's the next chapter. As a warning, it's more explicit than the others in terms of the sexual relationship going on between Harry and Draco, so if that's not your thing, you probably won't like this chapter. Since it seems like a lot of you are okay with the male/male elements, I won't edit them out or tone them down unless you guys tell me you'd rather not see it in the story. If it's not your thing, don't worry, because the story doesn't relvolve completely around the Harry/Draco relationship moving forward.
Enjoy! <3
Harry met Draco back in the dungeons with his packed bags only to lie half-naked in the boy’s bed and fall back asleep next to him. Neither of them had slept well the night before, and both were eager to prolong the comfort they had found in each other’s company at Hogwarts. They knew everything might change as soon as they were alone at Grimmauld Place. At least while they lay together under the green blankets inside the green curtains, they knew the rules. They were students sneaking around together rather than adults in Harry’s house, and the innocence was comforting. Besides, Snape was still lurking somewhere nearby, a fact that, strangely, even comforted Harry.
“Do you think Snape knows?” Harry asked, propping himself up on an elbow and looking down at Draco next to him.
“Of course he knows,” the blonde smirked. “He’s not an idiot.”
Harry sighed and fell back onto the pillow. He had been dreading the answer, and now had a sinking feeling in his stomach. He wasn’t ready for others to know that he had recently become close to Draco Malfoy--very close. And Snape was the last person on earth he wanted knowing his personal business.
Draco leaned over Harry and kissed him on the lips.
“Don’t wet your pants over it,” he teased.
Harry shoved the boy off in good-humor, rolling his eyes. But he hooked his arm through Draco’s to pull him close, and they lay on their backs, side by side. When Draco turned his head to face Harry a moment later, the Gryffindor took the bait, kissing the little blonde imp and then letting him rest his head on his chest while they both fell asleep.
Draco nudged Harry awake about two and a half hours later, and Harry blinked his eyes open. He smiled and kissed the boy on the forehead.
“You awake?”
Draco nodded, but said nothing.
“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, rubbing his eyes and half sitting-up.
“Nothing,” Draco mumbled, staring at the curtains. “It’s just...I have to pee.”
Harry laughed as the admission seemed to cause Draco to squirm around and cross his legs. He saw the boy reach a hand below the blankets and could only assume he had resorted to holding himself.
“How long has it been bad?” Harry asked, cupping a hand around the boy’s chin and forcing him to look towards him. “You should have woken me up.”
Draco shrugged, then an urge seemed to hit him as he squeezed his eyes shut and lay completely still, his legs pressed tight together next to Harry.
“About an hour, but I wanted to let you sleep,” he said, his voice tense. “Now I really can’t hold it anymore.”
Draco threw open the curtains and was half out of bed before Harry grabbed his arm, gently pulling him back.
“Want to have some fun?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.
Draco looked unsure, wriggling on the bed, but slowly nodded.
Harry sat up and jumped out of bed. He found his t-shirt on the floor and pulled it back on, tossing Draco his and waiting for the skinny boy to dress as well.
“Let’s go out to the common room,” Harry said. “I’ll bet you can hold on longer than you think.”
He took Draco by the hand and led him out of the room, taking the Slytherin’s robes from the hook on the wall at the last moment. Letting Draco stand next to the couch, he went about setting up the room in a hurry, hoping Draco could hold on long enough to make this exciting. Dragging a desk to the center of the room, he found a wooden chair and set it up behind it. He tossed some books onto the desk as well as a few pieces of parchment and a broken quill he found on the floor before taking Draco by the hand once again and sitting him in the chair.
“Is this alright?” Harry asked quietly, leaning over Draco where he sat.
Draco nodded, althougth he looked a bit concerned.
“Just try to hold it a little longer, okay?”
Harry straightened and grabbed the robes from where he had thrown them over the arm of the couch. He left the room and dressed in them in the hallway. Taking a deep breath, he stood tall and forced himself to walk extremely slowly as he re-entered the room. Draco turned to look at him, clearly confused as to what they were actually doing.
“Ah, Mr. Malfoy, you’ve found yourself in detention yet again,” Harry drawled apathetically, barely glancing at the boy.
Draco gasped and couldn’t help but smirk; Harry’s Snape impression was nearly spot-on.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Draco said, “It was--”
“Silence!” Harry said, his voice stern. “I don’t believe I asked for your input.”
Draco glanced down at the desk, amazed that Harry had actually been able to instill a bit of shame into him. He teetered between anger and chagrin, as full of emotions as he always was when forced to be disciplined by his Uncle Severus.
“Sorry, sir,” he said.
“Obviously you are not apologetic, Mr. Malfoy, if you insist on behaving like an animal in my classroom. Tell me, do you give your other teachers the same amount of disrespect, or is that something you save exclusively for my benefit?”
Harry paced back and forth in front of the desk, his hands clasped behind his back.
“No, s-sir, I just--”
“Do cease carrying on, Mr. Malfoy!” Harry spat. “And hear me when I say I will no longer tolerate such childish impudence from a seventh year. You are meant to providde an adequate example of maturity for the younger students, and from now on, you will do so. Is that clear, Mr. Malfoy?”
Draco squrimed in his chair, bending slightly at the waist.
“Harry, I---”
“Is that clear, Mr. Malfoy?” Harry asked again, his voice loud and frustrated.
“Y-yes, sir,” Draco said, his legs pressed close as his voice wavered.
“Very well. You will be writing lines. Two feet of parchment before you will be permitted to leave.”
Harry came close to Draco, staring him in the eye when he hear the boy give a moan as he wriggled from one side to the other. His hands were clutching the sides of the chair, and Harry knew he was using all his willppower to keep from holding his crotch.
“Is everything alright, Mr. Malfoy?” Harry asked, suspiciously.
Draco cleared his throat and tried hard to sit straight.
“Fine, sir.”
Drawing the parchment and quill close to himself, Harry glanced around the room and saw some ink left behind on a table near the spelled window. He retrieved it and dipped the quill. He moved agonizingly slowly, and Draco prayed he would walk faster. When his back was turned, Draco risked a grab at his crotch, but as soon as he was forced to let go, he regretted holding himself; it had only made him aware of just how badly he needed to go. He could have predicted this. Whenever he slept without wetting the bed he woke with a raging need.
Harry wrote slowly, even imitating Snape’s tiny, flowing handwriting. When he finished, he turned the parchment back so it was facing Draco, and tapped his finger down next to the line he had written. Draco couldn’t help but be turned on as he read the line: ‘I will not have impure thoughts about my Potions Master.’ He glanced up and saw Harry staring back at him, grinning cheekily before he turned on his heels and clasped his hands behind his back, transforming once more into Snape.
“You may begin,” he said.
Draco took up the quill and began writing lines, allowing the task to distract him for a moment from his overly full bladder. But it was a short time before he was hit with a sharp urge, and without thinking he dropped the quill and pressed both hands down between his legs, staving off his need for the time being. When the urge had passed, he glanced up to see Harry-as-Snape staring at him, one eyebrow raised in half-mockery.
“I...I, ah,” Draco mumbled.
“Yes, Mr. Malfoy?”
“May...may I be excused, sir?”
Harry scoffed and walked closer to Draco, placing both hands on the desk as he leaned down and looked into the boy’s blue eyes.
“And what possible reason could you have for leaving this room, Mr. Malfoy?”
Draco swallowed. “I...I need the loo, sir.”
Harry chuckled in condescention, and nearly fell out of character when he saw Draco blush bright red. The boy looked so shameful and yet amazingly hot. He didn’t know whether to kiss him on the cheek and let him go pee, or begin tearing off his clothing to show him just how amazing he really was. But he didn’t want this to be over yet; it was turning him on far too much to put an end to it early.
“Well, Mr. Malfoy, you should have thought of that before you were late to my detention. Besides, I’m sure a big seventh year like you can hold his pee for quite some time.”
Harry knew Snape would never be quite so blunt, but it was hard to channel the Potions Master when all he wanted to do was take Draco back to the dorm room and touch every part of his skinny, toned body.
Draco sighed and went back to writing lines, now constantly gyrating on the chair to keep from feeling as if he were about to lose it completely. Harry watched him like a hawk as he scribbled each line in turn, waiting for the moment the boy would be unable to hold on.
“Do sit still, Mr. Malfoy,” he shot in aggravation.
Draco glanced up and, with an effort, stilled his movements. He whimpered almost immediately, however, and the hand the was not writing was quickly holding himself. He looked up, red-faced in shame as he knew he was watched.
Harry raised both eyebrows, a smirk playing at one corner of his mouth.
“I can’t hold it, Professor,” Draco nearly whined. “Please, just let me leave for a moment.”
“Out of the question, Mr. Malfoy,” Snape said shortly.
Draco moaned as he felt the first spurt of wetness escape. Bearing down, he forgot all about the lines as he clenched his muscles and held himself with his hand, willing no more to wet his clothing. He was completely desperate and yet insanely turned on as he came as close as he ever had to acting out the fantasy he held of Snape keeping him from going to the loo. He knew he would be hard if he didn’t need to pee so badly.
“Keep writing!” Snape ordered, and Draco struggled to pick up the quill.
Halfway through his next line, however, he felt a long spurt of wetness soak into his briefs.
“I c-can’t,” he moaned. “I gotta go so bad!”
“The word you’re looking for is ‘badly,’ Mr. Malfoy,” Harry drawled. “Or perhaps your grammar school teachers never bothered to teach you the correct use of an adverb? Write!”
“Please, sir, I’m going to wet my pants.”
“Then do it and spare us the complaining.”
“Oh, Merlin,” Draco said, closing his eyes as he felt more hot wetness in his crotch. He squeezed as hard as he could, begging the spurts to stop. But he knew before long they would give way to a stream of pee soaking his jeans.
“Please, Professor Snape, I can’t hold it!”
“Silence, Draco! I did not permit you to speak! Write your lines, now!”
“B-but, sir, I...oh, fuck!”
Draco beared down as the pee suddenly streamed out of him, as he lost complete control and peed into his pants. Swearing, he pressed and grabbed, begging the liquid to stop, but it was no use.
“Control yourself, Mr. Malfoy,” Harry said, storming over to Draco and yanking his chair out from under the desk. He slapped Draco’s hands from between his legs and pressed his own down into the boy’s tepid wet crotch. Draco placed his wet hands back on top of Harry’s, squeezing tight as he moaned and begged it to stop.
“I’m wetting,” he gasped. “I’m wetting myself, Professor Snape!”
“Weakling,” Harry scoffed, yanking a hand out of Draco’s crotch to put it down his own pants. He was so turned on he could barely stand it as he watched the dark wetness spread throughout Draco’s jeans.
“I can’t stop, sir!” Draco whined as the pee continued no matter how much he held himself. closing his eyes at the ecstatic relief.
“You better not pee on my classroom floor!” Harry ordered, stroking himself, moments away from climax. Seconds later, Draco’s pee began splattering off the chair and onto the floor.
“Forgive me, Professor Snape,” Draco begged, panting. “It was an accident. But I’m almost done, now. It’s almost over.”
“Fucking hell,” Harry moaned. He shuddered and collapsed back agaisnt the desk as he came in his pants, and, as soon as Draco was finished wetting, he was not far behind him, bringing himself quickly to another kind of relief entirely.
The boys breathed heavily, spent and exhausted. Harry recovered first, and was leaning forward, about to give Draco a deep kiss when he saw a blur of black out of the corner of his eye.
“Well, that was quite the show, Mr. Malfoy,” Snape sneered from the doorway of the common room. “And I must applaud you for your truly inspired impersonation, Mr. Potter. It’s rare one finds students quite so...talented.”
Harry backed from Draco and Draco stood quickly, liquid running down his jeans and trickling onto the dungeon floors. The blonde tried fruitlessly to cover the wetspot running all through his crotch and down his legs with his hands.
“Uncle, we...I...”
Snape walked a slow circle around the boys until he was on the other side of the desk, where he stared at them until they had both looked away in embarrassment. Too late, Harry remembered the lines he had forced Draco to write, and Snape was quicker, grabbing the parchment before Harry could take it away. Snape glanced over the lines, keeping his face a blank mask that the boys could not read. He looked up at them as he set the parchment down on the corner of the desk.
“Go clean yourselves up,” he instructed, voice flat. “I’ll expect you in my office in half an hour’s time.”
Draco and Harry scrambled from the common room and up towards the dormitory. Neither boy spoke, too nervous as to exactly what it was their Potions Professor was going to do with them.
--- |
I'm sorry I've been MIA the past few days, life has been super busy. This chapter and the last weren't in the original version of this story so it's taken me a bit longer to write/edit them. Thanks to Wolf, Sunny, and Ryoku for always commenting and letting me know you're enjoying the story. And, if there are others of you out there reading, let me know! I love to hear that people are still interested, so send me a quick comment if you have the time. Thanks, everyone, and enjoy this next chapter!
Chapter 8
Snape retreated to his office and attempted to process just what it was he had witnessed. One thing was for sure, it was obvious Malfoy had not requested to spend his summer at Grimmauld Place simply to get away from his father. There was much more behind the request, and Potter, of all people, was apparently a main attraction. There was apparently more to their new-found companionship than a friendship formed out of desperation and embarrassment after the detention he had subjected them to.
It was not a rare occurrence for Snape to come upon students impersonating him. He was used to being mimicked by smart-mouthed students who were looking for an easy laugh from their companions or who were carrying a grudge because they had received poor marks on their potions exam. It had become mildly amusing to him, and he was quite intrigued by the plethora of pitiful attempts at inhabiting his demeanor he had stumbled upon. Never had he seen something quite as elaborate as Potter’s imitation, however, and he was unsure whether he should be flattered or concerned that he had somehow stumbled into their sexual fantasies.
He sighed as he sat behind his desk, plotting the proper steps he should take in dealing with his miscreant charges. He pressed his thighs together, the need for the loo a subconscious urge he had long since placed out of his mind. Potter and Malfoy could not simply be sent away to Grimmauld Place with a slight slap on the wrist. The boys needed to be punished. And yet, Snape could not help but allow the image he had walked in on to remain in his mind, the multiple hands pressed into Malfoy’s crotch as he slowly lost control, yelling out apologies to none other than Snape himself. Or, at least, the idea of Snape. He smirked as he re-envisioned the looks of abject fear he had placed onto their faces by announcing his presence; if nothing else he was going to have fun with them. He was going to take advantage of the upper hand he held in the situation.
Potter and Malfoy arrived on-time to his office, knocking gently to announce their presence. Snape, having removed the chairs from in front of his desk in order to force them to stand, ordered them to enter. He did not speak for quite some time, pretending to be busy with grading final exam papers for his first year students as he watched out of the corner of his eye as the boys shifted in the uncomfortable silence. He could not quite tell which of them were more embarrassed: Harry, who had found himself caught imitating Snape during some kind of sexual fantasy, or Draco, who had participated in the game long enough to wet himself.
Glancing up at last, Snape pulled the parchment out from under the papers he was grading, the parchment covered in scribbled lines professing I will not have impure thoughts about my Potions Master. Tapping his finger along the page, he raised his eyes as well as one eyebrow.
“Would either of you care to explain what it was you forced me to witness this afternoon?”
Draco stared at the floor and Harry cleared his throat, but neither boy spoke.
“You were meant to have already departed for Grimmauld Place, were you not, Mr. Potter?”
Harry swallowed and nodded up at the man.
“Yes, sir,” he said quietly.
“I was under the impression you were looking forward to leaving, were you not, Mr. Malfoy?”
Draco’s face was red when he glanced at his godfather.
“I-I was...I am, sir.”
“Then why, pray tell, do you continue to plague me with your presence?”
Neither knew how to answer that question, both fearing what would happen were Snape to pass on information about what he had seen to anyone. Draco was on the verge of a panic attack, just imagining the way Lucius would punish him were he to gain an understanding of what he had done with Harry in the Slytherin Common Room. Once, when he was five years old, his father had found him peeing his pants in the corner of the dining room because he wanted a house elf to visit him and talk to him. He had been punished severely, sent to bed without supper for an entire week; Lucius did not look kindly on any voluntary show of weakness. Draco felt sick to his stomach as the scene from that afternoon replayed in his mind. How could he have let it happen? But when Snape stood from his chair and turned to walk around his desk, Harry gave the blonde’s hand a quick squeeze, and Draco felt he could almost breathe once again.
Snape walked around his desk until he was standing very close to Potter and Malfoy. Taking the parchment of lines from behind his back, he held it in front of them.
“It seems you two are just full of secrets,” he said, pretending to glance over each line in turn. “Although I suppose one would be unable to classify something a secret had the secret-keepers been horrible at hiding their true feelings.”
Harry looked up at that, questioning Snape with his gaze.
“Excuse me, Professor?” he asked.
“Come now, Potter. You didn’t seriously think I was daft enough to miss what was going on in my own classroom, now, did you?”
Harry blushed and Draco breathed heavily, unable to stop thinking about just how sexy Snape’s voice truly was. If he was honest with himself, a part of him liked that Snape had caught them in the act; if he was honest with himself, a part of him had been hoping he would.
“I take a great pride in knowing each of my students...intimately,” Snape drawled, reaching out his index finger to raise Draco’s face by the chin. He stared at the boy, standing tall and lurking over the timid Slytherin. Draco’s lips parted slightly as the boy’s breath caught in his throat at the touch of his Professor.
Releasing Draco’s chin, he took a step closer to Potter, mere inches from the boy. Harry felt himself harden, imagining just what it would feel like to have Snape’s body pressed up against his own. His mouth was dry and his palms were sweaty.
“It has been quite obvious for some time, now,” Snape teased. “Just how...attentive...the two of you have become over the course of the semester.”
Harry nearly gasped when Snape lifted his hand, half afraid he was about to be smacked and half desperate for just that. The man brushed the hair out of Harry’s eyes, parting it just enough to trace the scar on the boy’s forehead with his fingertip. Harry shuddered, closing his eyes in pleasure.
“I’m quite aware of just the type of passion the Boy-Who-Lived holds for Potions, Mr. Potter,” Snape said, leaning down to speak into his ear. “Do not mistake me.”
Harry wriggled in place, unable to keep his hand from darting to the hard-on in his jeans, unable to keep from touching himself as his heart beat uncontrollably. He had half a nerve to pee himself right then, fulfilling every fantasy he had ever clung to about the Potions Master. The immediate gratification would be worth whatever consequences may arise. But he was far too aroused to release his pent-up pee, far too mesmerized by the broad-shouldered man in front of him.
Snape slapped Harry’s hand back to his side in one swift movement.
“You show a surprising lack of discretion, Mr. Potter,” he sneered. “No doubt an implication of your rudimentary upbringing, right, Mr. Malfoy?”
Draco was brought back to reality at the mention of his name, feeling light-headed when Snape turned and stood right in front of him again. The man did not look away, and Draco felt he would be content to stay in the man’s presence forever.
“I was merely suggesting that you know first-hand the benefits of a pure-blood upbringing, do you not?”
“Y-yes, Professor,” Draco said, voice breathy.
Snape walked a slow circle around the boys before standing before them, in front of his desk.
“And what do you think your father would say were he to have witnessed your little role-play earlier today?” he asked. His voice was harsh, without any of the sultriness he had spoken with merely moments before.
Draco blushed violently, arousal dissipating at the first mention of his father.
“Leave his father out of this,” Harry said, confusion apparent in his voice. Both boys were caught in Snape’s trap, blinded by their desire for the man who was apparently toying with them, playing into their fantasies after witnessing them first-hand.
“So you’d rather I mention your little games to Dumbledore?” Snape asked, “I’m surprised, Potter. I know you’d do anything to please Dumbledore. Why, I bet he’s just about the closest thing to a father you have left, is he not?”
Harry felt the anger rise as he took quick steps towards Snape, his fists clenched. How could he feel such blind hatred for a man who fit into his most intimate, desperate desires?
“Careful, Mr. Potter,” Snape warned. “I wouldn’t want to be forced to alter my decision regarding Draco’s summer plans because I was afraid for his safety in light of the temper tantrums his host seems to throw quite often.”
Scowling, Harry took a slow step backwards until he was once again next to Draco.
“You are lucky I don’t put the two of you over my knee for displaying such inappropriate behavior while at school,” Snape spat. “Such animalistic, indecent behavior deserves to be treated with a brutish
punishment. Nevertheless, I do not intend to spend my afternoon with snivelling teenagers.”
Harry glared at the man as he insulted them, fighting a desire to spit in Snape’s face.
“As such, you will spend time in the corner to think about your actions. Mr. Malfoy, there, and, Potter, there.” Snape gestured to each side of his office. He turned and walked back behind his desk, sitting quickly and pressing his thighs together as he imagined what was about to happen.
He knew the punishment was uncharacteristic, he just hoped the boys would not question behind sent to the corner like first-years.
“Did I not make myself clear?” Snape boomed, cursing as he stood up fast and was forced to stand completely still in an effort to hold in the contents of his overfull bladder. “Move, or I will begin drafting letters to your guardians!”
The boys turned and walked to their separate corners, their backs towards Snape, who returned to his seated position. He shouted at Potter when he chanced a glance back over his shoulder at the man. Snape found his wand on his desk and placed a silencing spell on himself as he sat back in his chair, spreading his legs slightly.
Having Draco and Potter so close to him, in the same room, caused him to re-live the scene he had witnessed earlier that day. He had been transfixed by the events occurring in the common room, in fact aroused by the detailed scenario he had found himself an audience to. It excited him to think the seventeen year olds had created fantasies about him, and the fullness of his bladder was only serving to intensify the feeling.
Taking a deep breath, he placed a hand on his robes right above his crotch, cupping himself as he tallied the number of hours he had been holding his pee. He figured the last time he had used the loo was the night before, immediately following dinner, which meant he had now been holding his pee for nearly eighteen hours. The pressure was intense, but the heaviness in his bladder was stimulating, and he spread his legs a bit more as he released the first trickle of warm pee into his trousers. He could determine the shamed attitude of Draco and the angered attitude of Harry simply by glancing at their backs, their body language telling him everything he needed to know. He rested his elbows on the arms of the chair as he relaxed once more, releasing a fast jet of urine into the thick, dark layers of fabric he was wearing before forcibly stopping himself.
Closing his eyes, he bit his lip and reached a hand under his robes to finger the small spot of wetness that was forming. Giving his crotch one large squeeze, he spread his legs as far apart as he could while sitting in the chair and released his bladder, immediately hearing a loud hissing as the pee shot against the back of his trousers and began soaking into his flowing, buttoned-up robes. He was grateful he had thought of the silencing charm, as he could not help but moan in pleasure as the wetness made his crotch hot. He gathered more fabric from his robes and bunched it between his legs as the pee trickled down, soaking the backs of his legs and pooling in the wooden chair beneath him. He wanted to get as wet as possible, wanted to feel nothing but a sopping ball of fabric bunched between his muscled thighs.
Groaning, he pissed himself dry, pushing out the full contents of the bladder he had been holding since the day before. He was left sitting in a puddle of his own pee, his robes sopping wet and his trousers beneath nearly saturated in stinking, hot urine.
“You may go,” he managed once he had removed the spells, despite the quiver in his voice.
The boys were barely out of the door before he was doubled over, lifting his robes and shoving down his trousers. Even a silencing charm would not have quieted the screams of pleasure sounding from the dungeon office of Severus Snape.
---
Edited May 8, 2012 by 222foxface222
(see edit history) |
Here's the next chapter. No omo in this one, it's really just meant to move the plot along a bit. Kind of just a sweet chapter (hopefully not too mushy) that I think the story needs after being sort of heavy-handed on the sexual stuff for the past two. We'll get back to the omo soon, though, I promise!
Chapter 9
Snape saw the boys off, escorting them to Hogsmede and then ensuring they arrived at the proper place through the Floo system. Harry hated the fact that Snape could appear at Grimmauld Place at any time. As a member of the Order, he knew the way to find the house despite its hidden location. Snape had assured them he would be checking up on them, and remarked that he expected their class work to be completed within a timely manner. It was a relief when the man finally left Harry and Draco alone.
“You can sleep in here,” Harry said, throwing open the door to the bedroom closest to his own.
In truth, he wanted to invite Draco to share his own bed, but he did not want to be too forward. He felt a bit awkward being alone in Sirius’ house with Draco Malfoy. Everything had moved so quickly. Besides, Draco had been very quiet since Snape had caught them in their little role play earlier that day. He had even snapped at him while they were gathering their things to leave, sounding too much like the old bully Draco. Harry wanted to ask him if something was wrong, if perhaps he had done something to make Draco angry, but didn’t know how to broach the subject.
“Thanks.”
Draco threw his suitcase in a corner and began surveying the room. He found it dark and small, but strangely homey. Then again, it may have just been the feeling he got when Harry stood close to him. Luckily, Grimmauld place seemed like it would be a perfect hideaway for the summer. It was far away from anything he was associated with, and having an entire house to roam around for the summer made him feel suddenly grown up. And yet, as much as he looked forward to days spent with only Harry for company, he had never slept anywhere besides Malfoy Manor, Hogwarts, or Snape’s Manor, and he was feeling strangely vulnerable, uncomfortable in his surroundings. The thought of staying in a new place had been worrying him all afternoon.
“I’m exhausted,” Harry yawned from the doorway of Draco’s new bedroom. “I think I’m going to head to bed.” Harry longed to include, “Why don’t you come and we can make out?” but he thought better of it.
Draco nodded, wondering whether Harry was making a proposition or not. If he was, Draco felt too tired to act on it just now. He felt completely drained after the stress of the past day and a half, as if his body was just now feeling like it could break down. He felt sick to his stomach whenever he remembered what Snape had seen, both in that insane detention and that afternoon when he had been foolish enough to let his guard down and give in to his desires for Harry.
He sighed, taking a seat on the bed.
“There’s extra blankets in the closet there,” Harry said, gesturing. “In case you get cold.”
Draco nodded again. He was not used to other accommodating him,, and now both Snape and Harry had gone out of their way to make his life easier. He felt somehow helpless and exposed. How was it that he found himself a house guest of his former enemy? One day ago he had been taunting Harry in potions class, complaining that he took up too much space on the planet, and now he was sitting in his house, contemplating whether Harry had just implied that they go to the master bedroom to screw.
“See you in the morning, then,” Harry said, still standing in the doorway. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t stay,” Draco said as Harry turned to leave. He got up off the bed, taking a step towards his host.
Harry stared at Draco blankly. “What do you mean?”
“I think I should just go back to Hogwarts and spend the holiday with Snape.”
Harry sighed and walked into the bedroom. Draco felt a tinge of anger; Harry was looking at him as if he were a misbehaving child who needed to be punished.
“Dray, is this about your father?” Harry asked. “Because we already went through--”
“It’s not about my father. I just don’t think this is a good idea anymore.” Draco retrieved his suitcase from the corner of the room and walked towards the doorway, where Harry stood.
“Get out of my way, Potter,” Draco sneered.
Harry was confused, watching Draco’s expression change to frustration and anger. He looked the way he did whenever he, Crabbe, and Goyle had met Harry and Ron in the hallways unexpectedly. Harry had always wondered how one boy could hate that much.
“Dray, hold on a second,” Harry began, but Draco was having none of it.
“Spare me your courtesy, Potter,” he said, shoving his way out into the hallway. “I’m not your fucking charity case.”
Harry took a step back, allowing Draco to leave. The way Draco glared at him made him question whether anything had actually happened between them or not. This was the moment Harry had been dreading; the moment Draco revealed that he had been playing along the entire time, the moment when he mapped out his master plan for humiliating ‘The Boy Who Lived’ and leaving him powerless with embarrassment.
He watched as Draco dragged his suitcase down the hallway. Maybe he had been wrong; maybe Draco would never change, no matter how much Harry wanted him to. But hadn’t they connected the night before, hadn’t Harry seen Draco’s true self?
“Wait.” Harry ordered.
Draco did not stop.
“Tell me what is wrong,” Harry called.
Swearing, Draco turned around towards Harry.
“I told you to fuck off,” he spat before turning to head down the stairs.
“Dray,” Harry called, “It’s going to be alright.”
Draco stopped with his back to Harry. He stood still halfway down the staircase, shoulders slumped and head hung low.
“He’s not going to find you,” Harry said. “I’ll take care of you.”
There it was again, the homey feeling inside Draco that made him believe everything Potter was saying to him.
“Can we at least talk about this?,” Harry asked, gently. He had to trust his gut, and his gut told him that there was more going on in Draco’s mind than the anger he was displaying. He could see through Draco’s anger now, could see through to the scared, helpless boy inside.
After a moment, Draco let his suitcase rest on the stairs and turned to walk back towards Harry.
“Fine,” he said. “We’ll talk.” His voice was softened, yet the glare remained, as if he didn’t want to get caught with his guard down.
Now that Draco stood in front of him staring, Harry was not sure what to say. He had meant to comfort Draco or scream at him for treating him badly after being invited to his home, but found himself confessing his own fears instead.
“I’m scared you’re really just tricking me so you can destroy me,” Harry said in one breath. He wanted to feel the comfort of looking into the smaller boy’s eyes, but Draco was staring at the floorboards.
“I’m not tricking you,” Draco said. He rubbed one eye with his fist, nervous energy taking over. “I’m scared of the secrets I told you.”
“I’m scared of the ones I told you,” Harry said with a snort.
The boys stood in silence, Draco pulling at the hem of his blue t-shirt.
“I’m scared of falling in love with you,” Draco said at last, quietly.
Harry lifted Draco’s chin and forced him to stare into his eyes. He leaned in and kissed him gently, placing all the truth he possessed into his lips.
“Me too,” he said. He pulled Draco close until he felt his stomach against his own, his thighs against Draco’s, his heartbeat through his chest. He leaned down and kissed the boy hard on the mouth, lips parted in order to taste him as much as he could.
“Harry?” Draco said, gently pushing himself away from Harry’s embrace.
“Yes?”
“Will you be mad if I pee the bed?” he asked, biting his bottom lip.
Harry nearly came in his pants. Draco looked adorably innocent as he questioned what would happen if he had an accident, his eyes wide with fear and embarrassment. Harry should have known that this was what had started Draco’s doubt; he had shown him his bed and his mind immediately went to wetting it.
“It’s common for little boys to pee the bed,” Harry said, stroking Draco’s cheek, “An accident once in awhile is only to be expected.”
Draco shivered; he had never been talked down to by anyone except his father, and it had always been condescending. Harry made it seem as if it were alright to have such a babyish habit, as if it were something to be proud of, even.
Harry led Draco into the master bedroom, and they lay down on the bed. It was only a full size, as Sirius had never liked sleeping in a big bed alone, but they both fit comfortably. It gave them an excuse to squeeze each other tighter, not wanting to fall out of bed. Harry rubbed Draco’s back to soothe the boy.
“I’ve never slept at someone else’s house before,” Draco admitted, speaking just above a whisper.
“Are you scared?” Harry asked, stroking Draco’s hair when the blonde rested his cheek against Harry’s chest.
Draco shook his head. “No,” he whispered. Harry wasn’t convinced.
“Are you sure?”
Draco raised his chin to glance at Harry, his eyes concerned.
“No,” he whispered.
Harry pulled the boy closer to himself and wrapped his arms fully around him. He had never taken care of someone in this way before, had never been in a situation where someone truly needed him for himself, not just as a maid or cook or for target practice.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, tracing his fingers along Draco’s jaw line and over his lips. “Nothing’s gonna hurt you.”
“Can I sleep with you?” Draco asked, as timid as a child.
Harry kissed him on the forehead, nodding.
“Sure,” he said. “Now, close your eyes. I’ve got you.”
He lifted the blankets up over Draco and helped him out of his jeans so he was more comfortable, dressed in his t-shirt and briefs. Harry followed suit, snuggling next to him beneath the sheets and comforter. Draco ducked his head under the blankets to lay his cheek against Harry, listening to the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat as Harry’s chest rose and fell.
“Harry?” Draco whispered as he struggled to keep his eyes open.
Harry moaned, barely awake.
“What is it, Dray?” he managed.
“You think Snape's jacking off right now thinking about watching me pee myself?”
Harry scoffed, smiling crookedly.
"You wish. If anything, he's been hard all day just thinking about my perfect impersonation of him."
Draco laughed through his nose, wrapping his arm around Harry's waist.
"I guess he is a bit of a narcissist," the blonde said.
Harry carded his fingers through Draco’s hair, nodding absentmindedly as they both drifted into a comfortable sleep, reassured by the warm body pressed against them and the possibilities of a summer holiday free from fathers, uncles, and cousins.
---
Edited May 10, 2012 by 222foxface222
(see edit history) |
I'm off of work today, so I had time to update! Harry and Draco are still working out some kinks in their friendship, and this time it's Harry's turn to be desperate. This chapter is really long, but I figured the first little section was too short to post as a chapter on its own. I had a feeling you guys wouldn't mind! I know some of you are waiting for Snape to reappear, and he will in Chapter 11, so don't worry! :)
Chapter 10
“Wake up, Dray,” Harry mumbled the next morning.
Draco groaned, pulling a pillow over his head to keep the light from the window out. He was used to sleeping in the dungeons, where windows were few and far between.
“Dray,” Harry said again. He bent down to burrow under the pillow with Draco, kissing him on the lips.
“Mmmm,” Draco mumbled, before rolling over and going back to sleep.
Harry laughed. Draco slept like the dead; no wonder he pissed himself. He reached forward and began gently tickling Draco’s side. The boy jerked awake and nearly fell out of bed.
“Harry, I’m trying to sleep,” he mumbled, although Harry knew he wasn’t mad.
Draco opened his eyes at last and stretched his arms up above his head. He rubbed his eyes, trying to see clearly. Harry watched as an expression of realization and dread set into the boy’s face. He moved his arms slowly back to his side, and stared down at the mattress.
“Fuck,” Draco said, “Did I…?”
Harry followed Draco’s gaze to the wet sheets and both boys’ wet legs.
“I’m so sorry, Harry,” Draco said, sitting up, cheeks red with shame. His voice was strained, as if he might cry.
Harry placed a hand on Draco’s shoulder, leaning down to kiss the boy on the cheek.
“No. It wasn’t you, Dray,” He said, nearly laughing.
He was strangely pleased with himself. He winked and took Draco’s hand in his own, leading it down under the sheets until it rested on Harry’s soaking wet briefs, now cool to the touch. Harry laughed at the picture of innocence Draco made reaching a hand down to his own underwear, just to make sure he hadn’t been the one to pee the bed.
“You didn’t wet the bed,” Harry said, trying not to laugh at Draco’s confused expression. “I was too lazy to get out of bed this morning.”
Harry failed to mention that he had pressed close to Draco’s side before he pissed the bed, enjoying the warmth of another body next to him as he released the liquid he had been holding since the night before. He also failed to mention just how quickly he had come as he jacked off in the puddle.
Draco smiled and kissed Harry on the lips.
“Then that would explain why I’m so fucking desperate to pee right now,” he said, squeezing his legs together. The embarrassment was gone, replaced only with a sense of relief that, for once, he had made it through the night without wetting himself.
“Harry?” Draco asked, running his hand over the wetness beneath him. “Is there a rubber sheet on this bed?”
Harry couldn’t help but look a bit abashed. Despite his deliberate wettings, the plastic sheet still shamed him. Because, more than anything, it made him think of Sirius. When he had stayed with the man, Harry was careful not to pee in bed, wanting nothing more than to make the man proud of him. But his body had other ideas, and it seemed the time spent with Sirius coincided with the worst of his nightmares. Nightmares that woke the whole household when they set him off screaming, nightmares that left him scared to fall asleep for fear that he would be reminded of the horrible events he had witnessed, and nightmares that caused him to wet his bed.
“Sirius got it for me,” Harry said, his mood suddenly somber. “I was having these nightmares.”
Draco took Harry’s hand in his own and scooted closer to him.
“Do you still have them?” he asked.
Harry nodded.
“Sometimes,” he said. “Back then they were really bad, though. And I tried to hide it, but Sirius found the, um...the wet sheets. He asked me about it, and everything.”
He remembered the conversation with more than a little embarrassment. Sirius was the closest thing he had had to a father, and less than a week into living with him, he had gone and wet himself like a little boy. The man had been gentle, waiting for Harry to build up the courage to admit why his bed was unmade and his sheets stripped from the wet mattress. He had ensured Harry it was nothing to be ashamed of, but Harry hadn’t been so sure. He still hated that Sirius had seen him like that.
“I didn’t want anyone to know,” Harry explained. “So he, uh, got me a rubber sheet.”
“Do you miss him?” Draco asked.
There was a silence as Harry stared past Draco and out the window. Draco discretely reached down to squeeze his crotch; he didn’t want to leak on Harry’s bed.
“You better go before you tinkle your pants,” Harry said with a breath, avoiding the question by teasing Draco with something he had once heard Mrs. Weasley say.
Draco rolled his eyes at the teasing, and decided to play along. Obviously, Harry was not in the mood to talk about Sirus. Instead of getting out of his own side of the bed, Draco climbed up and over Harry, straddling him as he climbed towards the bathroom, which was on the far side of the bedroom, closest to Harry..
“Just go, you little fucker,” Harry laughed, spanking Draco lightly as the boy climbed over him.
Draco gasped, and had to squeeze his crotch.
“Stop that, Potter,” he sneered. Harry was taken aback at Draco’s tone until the blonde winked at him. “You’re going to make me wet,” he whispered.
He hurried towards the bathroom with his hand between his legs, leaving Harry to begin stripping the sheets off of what had once been Sirius’ bed, consciously thinking about anything except his dead godfather.
---
Harry and Draco spent their first few days at Grimmauld Place in quiet peacefulness, revelling in the freedom of schedule-free days and enjoying the warm weather. Most mornings Harry cooked them breakfast because Draco was useless in the kitchen; he could not be trusted with the stove or even the microwave without Harry fearing he would burn the whole place down.
Some days, after lunch, they would dress in muggle clothes and go to the movies or a football game, making fun of those around them and the fact that the sports players were forced to stay on the ground. But most of the time they would simply apparate to a large field Draco knew of, and they would practice Quidditch strategies until they were barely able to drag themselves home, often too exhausted to make themselves dinner. Harry had never found someone as obsessed with the game as he himself had become until he found himself arguing with Draco for upwards of two hours over the pros and cons of broom regulations or the benefits and detriments of practice scrimmages.
Draco had taken to sleeping in the master bedroom with Harry. Almost every night, one or both of them would pee in the bed. Draco still got embarrassed when it was him, and Harry had taken to admitting to the wet sheets even when he knew he had not peed, just to keep Draco from becoming upset. Harry knew when the bad moments were coming, moments when Draco was so ashamed of his bedwetting that he would yell and scream and throw things at Harry. Harry would just wrap his arms around Draco and tell him everything would be alright until the smaller boy broke down and cried out his frustration and shame. On the bad days, Draco would spend entire afternoons sulking in one of the spare bedrooms, and would not let Harry in to comfort him.
Harry was pleased that Draco was in good spirits that day as they walked home from the movie cinema, hand in hand. It had been almost a week since Draco had moved in, and it had been a week, for the most part, of high spirits and the continued comfort of each other’s company. The movie they had seen was some horrible black and white monster film that muggles seemed so enraptured by, where giant ogres attacked some small suburban town. They tried not to disturb the others, but it was a good thing they were nearly the only ones in the theatre, as Harry’s commentary about what it would be like were Hagrid to attack a suburban town had Draco snorting in laughter.
Harry plucked at his crotch with his free hand as they neared their street.
“Something wrong?” Draco asked, an eyebrow raised.
“Gotta pee,” Harry said, smirking.
Regardless of his shame over wetting the bed, Draco had seemed to get used to Harry’s pension for holding his pee as long as possible. And while Draco seemed to use the loo as soon as he felt the need, he hadn’t questioned Harry’s long sessions of holding his pee, although he did stare when Harry danced around or when he had to hold himself to keep from peeing his pants.
Harry found the freedom to hold his pee whenever he wanted a great benefit of staying at Grimmauld Place. At Hogwarts, he had rarely put himself in the position during the day, not wanting to risk a wetting that would be seen by the others, but now that it was just him and Draco, he had been wishing for just that. He hadn’t wet himself yet except in bed, always running at the last minute to the loo and never having more than a slight damp spot in his underwear. But he had been holding his pee all morning, and he hoped Draco wouldn’t react negatively if he could build up the courage to let himself soak his jeans.
“Is it bad yet?” Draco asked.
Harry nodded. “Been holding it for ages,” he said.
Draco began to walk faster, pulling Harry along, who was having trouble keeping his hands off the front of his jeans. He was starting to feel like he needed to hold himself constantly or risk peeing.
“We’re almost there,” Draco said. “I don’t know why you always wait so long.”
Harry wondered if Draco honestly hadn’t realized that holding his pee turned him on to no end. Had he not noticed just how often Harry was desperate to pee? Did the blonde really think he was just absent-minded when it came to using the loo?
“Not so fast,” Harry said, his voice strained as he came to a stop. He buried his hand between his legs, squeezing tight, and looked down red-faced when a boy about his own age passed by, staring.
“You’re embarrassing yourself,” Draco hissed, glancing around the street to check if anyone else had seen. Harry straightened up with an effort, removing his hand to make Draco happy. Apparently, Draco’s acceptance of desperation was restricted to the privacy of Grimmauld Place.
“We don’t know any of these people, Dray,” Harry said gently, not wanting to start a fight.
Draco sighed in frustration and roughly grabbed Harry’s hand once more.
“Let’s go before you do something you’ll regret,” he said, pulling him along.
Harry could tell Draco was upset with him, knew that he had put the other boy in a situation he found shameful. Harry suddenly felt ridiculous for wanting to pee in his pants, for letting himself get desperate enough to be half-dancing on the street just a block from his house. He wished he had used the loo at the movie theatre, and found himself staring at the ground, unable to stop himself from keeping one hand pressed between his legs as a boy smaller than he was dragged him down the street in disgust. He felt like a child, being reprimanded for disobeying some kind of unspoken rule. He could not help but whine as Draco pulled him quickly, making the need to pee almost unbearable.
Because they had to wait until the street was completely clear before spelling the house into view and entering, Draco stopped at the bottom of the stairway entrance to the house beside them. Harry nearly slammed into his back, not expecting the abrupt halt. There was a family walking down the street, and Draco glared at them as they passed. Harry turned towards the stairway and clutched himself hard, not wanting Draco to see just how desperate he was.
“Stop that,” Draco hissed, slapping Harry’s hands. “Someone will see.”
Harry forced himself to stand still with his hands by his side. He held his thighs together and could not help but squirm in place. It was getting bad, and Draco’s disapproval was only making him more nervous. He gasped when a small spurt escaped, eliciting an angry glare from Draco.
“Don’t you dare,” Draco said through clenched teeth.
Harry had not anticipated that he would feel quite so vulnerable. He thought Draco understood him, had accepted him for his strange upbringing as well as his strange quirks. After Draco had gone through with their Snape role-play, he believed they had both come to an understanding that this was something they both enjoyed, something that turned them both on. He was confused at Draco’s apparent change in opinion. Averting his eyes, he stuck his hands deep into his pockets where he could hold himself a bit less conspicuously.
“Move, you idiot muggles,” Draco said under his breath.
The smallest girl, walking with what appeared to be her father and mother, kept stopping to point to window boxes or stray cats or trees and having conversations with her parents about each, who seemed to be tourists of some kind as they took pictures of nearly everything she indicated. It meant the family were very slowly making their way down the street, much to the dismay of Draco, and especially Harry.
“Draco, I really have to go,” Harry confessed quietly. He feared he would start to wet himself if the family didn’t hurry up. He had already felt another trickle escape, and he knew he was not far from losing the struggle.
“Just hold it, Potter,” Draco ordered, aggravation clear in his voice. “You’re not a fucking toddler.”
Whimpering, Harry turned his back to Draco and bent slightly over at the waist. He was forced to remove his hands from his pockets and press them back down on top of his jeans, grabbing himself as hard as he could. He knew it was ridiculous to hold himself like this, but he didn’t know what Draco would do if he wet himself; the boy really seemed angry and he did not want to ruin their newfound friendship by embarrassing Draco in broad daylight.
The family were nearly off the street. Draco watched them intently, and flipped them off when the little girl turned to look at him and pointed him to her parents, wanting them to take a picture of him. That sent them off in a huff, and after a quick glance to make sure no one else was coming, Draco turned and cast the spell that would make Grimmauld Place appear. He waited impatiently, tapping his foot on the ground as it appeared between the adjoined houses.
Harry could barely breathe. It was coming out. Standing stock still as Draco waited behind him, he felt a long trickle of pee wet his briefs and show on his jeans before he was able to stop it. He tried hard to control his breathing, bending over almost in half as he grabbed himself so tightly it was starting to hurt. But, despite his squeezing, he could no longer hold on, and froze as the wetness began to stream out of him and soak down his legs. He was silently wetting himself, nearly crying from the effort of trying to stop it. If he could just stop maybe it wasn’t bad enough for Draco to tell. Maybe he would still be able to run inside and finish without completely disgracing himself. But even as he thought that, he felt the warmth of his pee through his fingers, trickling down slowly towards his crossed knees. Draco was going to kill him.
At last, the house was in view, and Draco put away his wand so as to be able to help Harry up the front steps and into the house.
“Alright, Potter, let’s go,” Draco said.
But when he turned to take Harry’s hand in his own, he saw the boy hunched over, both hands buried deep between his legs.
“Fuck, Harry. Get a grip and stop acting like an ingrate!”
He grabbed Harry by the shoulders, intending to drag him inside if he was forced to. He heard the boy moaning, and could not get him to move.
“You better not be wetting yourself,” Draco said in a fierce whisper, checking to make sure no one was watching them from the windows of the other houses. He grabbed Harry’s arm and yanked him around forcefully, angry and disgusted as he saw the wetness spreading throughout Harry’s crotch and down between his crossed legs.
“I can’t stop it,” Harry gasped, tears in his eyes from the sheer agony of the situation. He had meant for this to be fun and exciting, he had meant for it to get them both off. Instead, Draco was looking at him as if he were about to hex his ears off; he was anything but excited. Ashamed by both the tears that threatened to fall and the urine streaming into his pants, Harry reddened and stared at the ground. When he finally gained control of his bladder, he was wet down both legs past his knees, and Draco was looking at him in disgust, as if he had just seen Neville Longbottom completely naked.
Apparently too angry for words, Draco yanked Harry up the stairs and into the house, dragging him to the living room where he released him and surveyed his soaked clothing.
“You’re disgusting,” he sneered, backing away from him. “Anyone could have seen.”
“I-I’m sorry,” Harry mumbled, blinking back tears and still unsure how they had arrived in this situation. “I couldn’t help it.”
“Like Hell you couldn’t!” Draco shouted. Harry had rarely heard his voice raised, and he wasn’t sure whether to demand he leave his house or break down into tears.
“I thought you would like it,” Harry said at last, having gotten ahold of his emotions.
Draco stopped his pacing and looked Harry in the eye. When he spoke, his voice was quieter, yet the disdainful tone remained.
“There’s a difference between what is done in private and what anyone can see. That’s how rumors are started, Potter. That’s how you disgrace your...”
Draco trailed off, throwing his hands up in air and resuming his pacing.
“That’s how you disgrace your family name?” Harry finished.
They stared at each other, Harry having found his pride and an anger nearly matching Draco’s.
“You’re just like Snape,” Harry said. “You think I’ve been raised like an animal, that I don’t meet the Malfoy family values.”
“Fuck off, Potter,” Draco said, rolling his eyes and turning away to walk up the stairs.
“Screw you, Draco,” Harry said. “It’s not my fault you have too many fucking manners to have any fun at all, to admit that, as much as the great Lucius Malfoy would disapprove, you thought what happened outside was damn near the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.”
Draco approached Harry, looking as if he were about to throw a punch, but at the last second he shook his head in exasperation and turned to storm up the stairs.
“You’re a disgusting libertine,” he said. “You’re not even worth my time.”
Harry watched as Draco disappeared up the stairs, fuming in anger and with half a mind to run after Draco and attack him from behind. Lashing out, he knocked over an old ceramic lamp and enjoyed the power he felt as it shattered on the ground. When he went upstairs to change, Draco was in the guest room, the door closed, and, he knew without checking, locked. Harry showered and put his wet clothes in the wash before retreating back to the master bedroom, where he lay on the bed, sulking. Just as he was about to fall into a fitful sleep, he swore out loud, remembering that Snape was meant to come the next morning to check the progress they had made on their school work.
---
Edited May 11, 2012 by 222foxface222
(see edit history) |
Sorry it's been a few days since I've last updated! I added a little Snape desperation into this one for those of you who are major Snape fans, and while the first half of this chapter kind of ended in a different place than I originally anticipated, I'm pretty happy with it, but I'm curious to know what you guys think. The second half of the chapter continues where the last one left off, with Snape arriving at Grimmauld Place to find two very disgruntled and moody boys. We're coming up on some of my favorite chapters in this story when I originally wrote it--can't wait for you all to read them. Hope you're all doing well :)
Chapter 11
Nearly a week had elapsed since Draco had moved in with Potter, and Snape had assured them he would be by before the week was out to monitor their schoolwork. He planned to pay them a visit early the next morning, and could barely keep his mind from wandering to thoughts about what exactly it was the boys had been up to in his absence. He envisioned day-long games of the sort he had walked in on their last day before the summer holiday began, role-plays in which he or other Professors were key figures. He wondered if Potter was always the disciplinarian in the scenarios, or if Malfoy enjoyed the dominance every so often as well.
Tossing his book to the side, he stood and retreated to the loo, consciously trying to rid his mind of thoughts of his students. While the images which swam through his mind excited him, he knew it was outside his bounds as their Professor to look upon them in that way. Then again, both boys were of age, and clearly anything but naive in regards to having a bit of fun. What was more, judging from the situation he had walked in on a week prior, It was clear Potter and Draco enjoyed their pee games as much as Snape had learned to, and were obviously well versed in the specifics. Draco was like a son to him, and yet Snape was unable to forget the way his voice had wavered as he begged Potter to let him pee, the way he looked up with tears in his eyes as he realized they had been caught.
Snape peed forcibly into the toilet, having held his pee for nearly the entirety of the day. He would never be attracted to his godson, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate the boy’s obvious pension towards desperation. Potter, on the other hand, stirred something different within him. After all, the boy did have his mother’s eyes...not to mention his godfather’s cheekiness.
He changed into a nightshirt and extinguished the lights in his bedroom. The dungeons were so quiet once the students had gone, and yet a part of him felt unsettled at the lack of commotion. He was used to his Slytherins wandering the hallways far past curfew, used to them sneaking to dark corners where they met others for a quick snog or more. Left to his own devices, without the preoccupation with his duties as Head of House, his mind wandered far too much for his liking. Snape enjoyed keeping busy, because he disliked the alternative; he could barely stand the internalized quietness that gave way to often painfully unresolved memories...
He had been fifteen, a scrawny, unwashed child watching out of the corner of his eye from his empty car on the Hogwarts Express as the other children bid pitifully tearful farewells to their overweight mothers and spectacled, balding fathers. He was unsurprised when his car remained empty even as the train left the station, the other students making idiotic fools of themselves as they hung out windows waving goodbye to their grandparents and younger brothers and their damn pet gerbils. Taking out his potions textbook, he slunk down into the seat and pulled the shades down over the interior windows of his train car. If he saw another pair of Hufflepuffs slobbering all over each other by means of reacquaintance he was going to hex the whole lot of them.
He had made his own way to the train station, arriving early so as to avoid the crowds. The only goodbye he had received was from his mother, who had left him a note scribbled on a small piece of paper: Be a good boy, Sev. xoxo Mum. A part of him longed for her to have woken early to make him breakfast and check to see that he had packed enough clean underwear into his school trunk, but his father kept her on a tight leash, and if his father wasn’t around, she was too depressed and out of sorts to be much use to anyone. Opening his fist, he took the crumpled note out of his hand and tucked it into the back pages of his Potions book.
The train was nearly halfway to Hogwarts when Severus began to feel the pressure in bladder. He had recently begun playing games with himself, holding his bladder until it was comfortably full, but this had not been planned, and he felt a cold dread as he realized just how badly he needed to go. He had forgotten to use the loo before getting on the train, and there was no way he was about to make the long trek to the opposite end of the train to find the toilet. There was only one, and it was almost always plagued with timid first-years who were about going in their pants as they waited their turn. Why hadn’t he found a toilet at the station before they had left? It was the kind of thing mothers were supposed to remind their sons to do, the kind of thing sons pretended to hate but were secretly grateful for. How could he have forgotten?
The sound of the door opening beside him pulled him from his thoughts. He sat up and yanked his wand from his pocket, having trouble when it caught on the robes he had already changed into. Getting it free at last, he looked up to find none other than Sirius Black in front of him, sliding the door closed behind his back as he tossed his long, curly hair out of his eyes. The boy flung himself into a seat directly across from Severus, winking as he sat and seemed to be catching his breath.
“Hey Snapey,” he said, smiling sideways as he leaned his head against the seat. “Pettigrew’s after me since I let on his mother still lets him sit in her lap during thunderstorms.”
“Clear out of here, Black,” Severus said, careful to keep his voice flat and uninterested as he lowered his wand and turned back to his book.
Sirius whistled and kicked his legs up to rest his feet on the seat directly next to Severus.
“Sheesh, Sev,” he said, his trademark smirk giving him the air of a mischievous pixie as he glanced around the empty train car. “Didn’t know you had so many friends to keep you company around here.”
“Get out,” Severus said caustically, barely glancing up. “And don’t call me that.”
“Well, it’s your name, Sev,” Sirius said, resting his hands behind his head and crossing his legs at the ankles. “What should I call you if you don’t want me to use your name?”
“I don’t know,” Severus said after a moment, looking up to glare at Sirius. “Why don’t you ask Potter? I’m sure he has some brilliantly original ideas on the subject. Now kindly leave me the hell alone.”
Severus fought the urge to guide the boy’s legs off the train seat. Hadn’t he ever been taught to keep his shoes off the furniture? It was uncomfortable to be so abnormally close to a Gryffindor, let alone a Gryffindor whose mission it was to make his life hell at the bidding of James Potter. Guys like Sirius Black didn’t just stop by your train car to say a friendly ‘hello.’ It made him apprehensive to think of Black’s actual motive for seeking him out, and the nervousness he felt so close to Black made him acutely aware of his need for the loo. He was doing everything in his power not to show his weakness by squirming on the seat. He comforted himself by gripping the sides of his book forcefully and pressing it down against his lap.
Sirius clicked his tongue and shook his head slowly.
“This is a friendly visit, Snapey,” the curly-haired boy said in a sing-song. “We’re all friends here, right?”
Severus stayed quiet, turning the page of his Potions book and pretending to trace the line of text just so he could press his palm against the book and down onto his crotch. He nearly flinched as Sirius pulled himself up by the bars of the overhead luggage rack, but managed to stay still. He could see Sirius standing there out of his peripheral vision, but fought the urge to glance up at him; he needed to keep whatever upper hand he had gained by appearing cold and distant. It was a while before Sirius spoke, teasing Severus by standing over him, leaning closer until he appeared to be reading along with the more studious boy.
“Hey, Severus, do you know how much longer it will be until we’re there?”
The Slytherin did not take the bait, refusing to even give the boy the satisfaction of acknowledging that he had spoken. Sirius held the bars of the luggage rack above Severus’s head and swung back and forth, leaning down close to Severus as he stretched his arms. But Severus was immune to the inane restlessness of the other boy, and did not allow it to distract him.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Sirius said, standing still at last. “There was something Lily asked me to tell you! You know, if I saw you...”
Severus did not look up, but he knew Sirius would be unable to ignore his sudden, keen interest.
“But I would really like to know how long until we get there,” Sirius said, obviously playing with him. “And you’re so great at directions.”
Despite his best judgment, Severus decided to play along. But as he glanced over towards the window to get a sense of their placement, he found Sirius Black’s hands pressed against his chest as the boy swung down into the seat next to him and shoved him back against the inner window of the train car. Severus gave the other boy one quick shove to free himself, standing up off the seat and glaring as he clenched his jaw, fuming in anger.
“Get out, Black,” he said after a moment. “I’m not playing your games.”
Sirius stood and walked the few steps across the train car until he was standing close to Severus, who once again found his wand.
“Come on, Sev,” Sirius said, backing the boy into a corner and placing his hands against the wall on either side of him. “Don’t you want to know what Lily told me to tell you?”
Severus swallowed, and although his robes kept his movements from being detected, he couldn’t help but color slightly as he was forced to press his thighs together. He was desperate, straining to control himself. He wondered if Sirius had been one of the sappy fools kissing his mother goodbye. He wondered if she had leaned down and reminded him quietly to use the loo before he climbed onto the train to find his gang of friends. The small lapse in concentration seemed to be Severus’ downfall, as the other boy wrestled his wand out of his hand before grabbing his wrists and holding them up over his head. Severus struggled to get out of the boy’s clutches, but he was no match for the stronger boy, especially when every move he made caused him to feel inches away from leaking into his robes. But he would not show his weakness, and he swallowed and stood still, allowing Sirius to press his wrists against the wall over his head with one hand and grab his chin roughly with the other.
“Lily told me to tell you to stay the fuck away from her,” Sirius spat, his face only inches from Severus’.
When Sirius placed his hand between Severus’ legs, the Slytherin moaned and leaned into it only because he was desperate to pee; the pressure was almost too much to take, and the boy’s rough hand grasping his crotch was just what he needed. He knew it gave the wrong impression; Sirius was known to get around, and Severus did not want to imply that he was interested, especially if the information would get back to Lily. But he was unable to keep from thrusting his hips forward into Sirius’ grasp as he felt himself seconds away from losing control, and as he looked into the grey eyes of Sirius, he found the boy’s usually humorous expression replaced by a sternness that was as unsettling as it was exciting.
“She told me to tell you you’re a worthless Snake not worth anyone’s time and that James will have your bollocks if you don’t stop following her around like a pathetic, love-sick second year.”
In one swift movement, Sirius punched Severus in the stomach, causing the boy to double over in pain from the strong jab. To his horror, he realized as the pain subsided slightly that his bladder had released itself, that there was warm liquid streaming down his legs. He closed his eyes and stood stock-still with his palms pressed down onto his thighs, refusing to hold himself. He may be wetting his robes, but he would keep at least a bit of dignity. The wetness disgusted him, trailing down onto the floor beneath his feet as he voided into his clothes, and yet he could not ignore the stiffness in his shorts which made itself known the moment he had finished, the moment he glanced up to find Sirius Black, staring at him open-mouthed, his face flushed in what appeared to be excitement.
And, in an instant, Sirius was gone, the door of the train car sliding closed once more, leaving Severus hunched over, his palms resting on his thighs as his heart beat...
It was a memory Snape had often thought about after Sirius Black’s death. At the time it had happened, it had embarrassed and shamed him, but, looking back on the memory, he wondered just what Sirius’ actual motivations had been. He had never been quite so...physical with another man until Sirius, had never been quite so turned on by the act of wetting himself. That memory had led to a slew of others, late night meet-ups in the room of Requirement where Sirius begged to be tied down until he’d soaked himself, holding games in classes the Slytherins and Gryffindors had together, and even hook-ups outside of Hogwarts, after they had graduated. The men formed a strange friendship that was never spoken about outside of their bedrooms. If it had ever come to light, they both would have denied its existence, and yet Snape had felt the man’s absence acutely since his death.
It had been Sirius who had first taught him the excitement of pee games, and now the man’s godson, of all people, was overtaking his waking thoughts. He assumed his pseudo-friendship with Black was not unlike that which had formed between Potter and Draco, a friendship of necessity built on dark pasts and sullen sexual depravity. Snape had never been attracted to men before or after Sirius, and yet now it seemed Potter was challenging that theory entirely.
Throwing the blankets off of him, Snape stormed to his office and found the final dregs of a sleeping draught, which he downed in one gulp before retreating back to his large bed and waiting for memories of a roguish, curly-haired boy and fantasies of the man’s dark-haired godson to disappear.
---
Snape appeared in the living room of Grimmauld Place early the next morning. Frustrated by his inability to sleep, the man was in anything but an amiable mood as he glanced at the cluttered space and slunk into the kitchen, where he found Potter sitting at the table, hands wrapped around a coffee mug. He looked awful, as if he had slept even less than Snape.
“Bright and early, of course,” the boy muttered, not even attempting to hide his annoyance. “If you’re looking for Malfoy, he’s still upstairs, sulking.”
The boy was short-tempered and visibly upset, hunched at the table over his mug of coffee. Snape gathered that the two had fought over something, and was unable to contain his smirk as he thought back to the days of school-year crushes. They may be of age, but the teenagers were anything but mature when it came to relationships.
“I take it you and Mr. Malfoy had a falling out, of sorts?”
Potter scoffed into his coffee and rolled his eyes.
“You could say that,” he said, apathetically. “Here, I imagine he’ll be needing this.”
The boy rolled Draco’s wand down across the table towards Snape, who caught it before it fell to the ground.
“He left it in my room,” Potter explained. “But if precedence is anything to go by, he’ll be missing it right about now.”
Clutching the wand in his hand, Snape nodded once before turning to climb the stairway. Potter was obviously put out by whatever had occurred between the two of them, and Snape resented the fact that it was apparently his task to set things straight. Of course they would fight the day he was set to arrive, the day he thought would be a quick visit consisting of admonishing the boys for failing to complete their summer lessons. There was only one closed door to the right of the hallway, and he knocked firmly, hoping his godson were a bit less moody than Potter.
“Fuck off, Potter,” he heard Draco call from the other side of the door. Snape closed his eyes in exasperation; Draco was apparently no more rational than Potter had been, pouting downstairs.
“Language, Mr. Malfoy,” Snape warned, signalling his presence for the boy.
“Uncle Severus?” The voice was closer to the door, the boy more than likely having walked across the room once he heard his godfather’s voice.
“Yes, Draco,” Snape said, short-tempered. “Now, if you’ll please, I’m not accustomed to yelling through doors like a pair of inbred muggles. These are not the Hufflepuff dormitories.”
The door opened slightly, just enough for the boy to peek out at his godfather. His face was red and splotchy; the boy had obviously been crying. Snape wondered if Draco had always been this emotional, or if the presence of Potter had simply brought it out in him. He had certainly gotten skilled at hiding his vulnerability from his classmates, in either case.
“Open the door, Draco,” Snape drawled, his patience wearing thin.
The blonde shook his head, his eyes filling with tears once more. Snape sighed, placing a hand on the doorknob and gently forcing his way into the bedroom. His godson stood before him, dressed in a rumpled t-shirt and a pair of jeans wet through the front and down the legs. A quick glance at the soiled bedding confirmed that Draco had wet himself as he slept in what were apparently yesterday’s clothes.
“I...I...d-didn’t mean to,” Draco stammered, wiping his face as he backed into a corner of the room. If the boy’s appearance and emotional state were anything to go by, it was clear Draco had gotten as little sleep as Potter had.
Sighing, Snape removed the hostility from his voice as he said the proper drying spells before turning to his godson, who was still cringing in the corner, apparently having not realized that he had been hit with the cleansing spells.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Draco,” Snape said, surprised that his godson seemed quite so frightened. He had never before hit the boy, and he was not about to start. Draco glanced up and seemed to calm himself with an effort. Snape approached the boy and led him to sit on the now dry bed. He was starting to suspect that something rather serious had taken place between the two boys.
“Harry...he...he’s going to send me back to my father’s, isn’t he?” Draco asked.
Snape sat next to the blonde boy, shocked as the boy immediately leaned against his shoulder, the way he had when he was just a child. Snape recalled quiet nights the boy hadn’t been able to sleep because he was afraid of the dark and even the earliest years of Draco’s time at Hogwarts, when the boy crept to his godfather’s rooms because he was lonely and just wanted some company. But as Draco grew up, his need for his Uncle had diminished, and the two had gradually grown apart. How could Snape have missed the fact that the boy had always needed him, that he was still just as vulnerable and scared?
“That is something you’ll have to speak about with him, don’t you think?”
Draco nodded, sighing, and Snape placed his arm around the boy’s shoulders, drawing him closer to him in comfort. They were all the same; children hidden within the grown-ups they couldn’t help but become. As he rested a hand agaisnt the boy’s back, Snape saw Potter out of the corner of his eye, hovering in the doorway. The dark-haired boy glanced into the bedroom tentatively, and Snape nodded for him to enter.
“Do you think he hates me, Uncle Severus?” Draco mumbled, looking up after a time when he did not receive an answer from the man. As he sat up, he caught eyes with Potter, and immediately stood from the bed, straightening his clothes as he seemed to take pains to appear strong and intimidating.
“I don’t hate you,” Potter said gently, having barely moved from his spot in the doorway. “And you don’t have to leave...unless you’d rather.”
“I still think that what you did was barbaric,” Draco said after shaking his head in the negative. His pretentious tone of his voice was negated by the tear-streaks running down his face. Nevertheless, Snape was surprised at just how easily Draco has slipped from whimpering brat into pridefully stubborn young man.
Potter nodded. “I know,” he said. “And I still think you...” he paused, glancing over to where Snape had remained seated on the guest bed, one eyebrow raised. “I still think you liked it more than you’ll admit.”
Snape nearly laughed out loud. This was all some lover’s quarrel over some kinky sex act that Potter had tried to force onto Draco? He ran a hand over his face in an uncharacteristic show of exasperation; he could barely believe he was sitting in Grimmauld Place, presiding over some boyhood reconciliation after a night of debauchery gone wrong. What had he done to deserve this?
“While this is all quite a fascinating example of teenage sexual psychology,” Snape sneered, standing up from the bed. “There are those of us who do not wish to waste our entire day debating the proper etiquette for stepping outside the bounds of acceptability in the bedroom. I expect you’ve been spending just as much time on your lessons as you have navigating the perverseness of each others’ erotic fantasies?”
He received blank stares from both boys, neither of whom seemed to have followed his train of thought, but after he had instructed them to report downstairs in five minutes with their books, parchment, and quills and had left the bedroom to retreat downstairs, he heard the distinct sound of laughter and the deep tone of voice Potter seemed to save exclusively for moments in which he imitated his Potions Professor. Rolling his eyes as he set up the kitchen table as a study space, he couldn’t help but give into a half-smile, although he only did so because there was no chance of anyone witnessing such an inane expression.
--- |
Ok, so I know I just updated yesterday, but I'll be travelling for a couple days and probably won't have time to update until I get back home. I'm also impatient to get to some of the upcoming chapters, so I figured I'd just update a bit early. This chapter forwards the plot and introduces Ron back into the story. I know he's not always a favorite, but I think his character adds an interesting mix to those already involved in this story, so I hope he's a welcome addition! This is the last Snape chapter for a little while, but he'll be back for more fun soon. Enjoy!
Chapter 12
Once Snape left, Harry and Draco felt almost completly reconciled back towards the comfortable normalcy they had found in each other’s company. Neither of them mentioned the incident they had fought over, and both were careful not to make any mention of holding their pee or being desperate to go. While both often wet the bed--Harry purposefully--they generally stuck to neutral subjects both in their everyday conversation and in their shared bed, and soon all hostility had been forgotten. Grimmauld Place came to be their understood refuge, and only the occasional check-up by Snape could disturb their peacefulness.
“You’ve got such a small bladder. You can’t even hold it from lunch to dinner,” Harry said softly one day they had to return from the Quidditch field so Draco could pee.
It was the first mention of peeing since the incident that had set Draco off, and he knew he was taking a chance by bringing up the subject. But the fact of the matter was that he could not keep his mind off of the pee games they had played, both at Hogwarts and at Grimmauld Place. He didn’t think he could stand another week pretending it had not turned him on more than anything else. He leaned forward and kissed Draco on the forehead.
“Sorry,” Draco mumbled.
Harry shushed him, placing his hand under Draco’s sharp jawline. He hadn’t meant to embarrass Draco; he knew the boy was sensitive about the subject of his weak bladder.
“Don’t apologize,” Harry said, rubbing Draco’s cheek, “I think it’s cute.”
Draco scoffed and looked down at the floor. Harry could tell he was still ashamed by the number of nights he had been wetting the bed lately.
“You know it’s far from cute,” he said, “How many seventeen year olds do you know who are about to pee their pants every three hours?”
“Just one,” Harry said, “but that’s one of the things I like so much about him.”
Harry pulled Draco into a hug, wrapping his arms around him. He still could not believe the boy he held in his arms was the same bully who had made his life torture for six long school years.
“You’re so adorable,” Harry mumbled into Draco’s ear.
They kissed, their arms intertwined and stomachs pushed up against each other.
“Let’s go upstairs,” Draco whispered, reaching a hand down to feel Harry’s crotch.
Harry nodded and moaned.
Suddenly, the fire roared, causing both boys to jump in surprise.
Severus Snape had traveled by floo powder, and now stepped into the living room of Grimmauld Place. He stared at the boys, who were in each others’ arms. When Draco realized his Uncle was in the room, he quickly pulled away from Harry and crossed his arms on his chest. His cheeks were slowly reddening at the idea of being caught. Harry was bothered by Draco’s reaction, but knew it had simply been his first response; Draco adored Snape and would never want to disappoint him. But, based on his last appearance in the midst of their fight, Harry knew there was little chance the Potions Master hadn't yet caught onto their relationship. Harry tried to stand so his hard-on would not be visible.
“I apologize for the intrusion,” Snape said, staring at the boys as if trying to figure out just what he was looking at. “Draco, you need to come with me to Hogwarts right now. Your father is on his way to see you.”
Draco’s heart began to beat out of his chest. He hadn’t thought about Lucius for almost three weeks now, Harry’s kindness having slowly eliminated the thoughts of his father which had always before permeated his mind.
“Do I have to?” Draco asked.
Snape glared. Even Harry had to admit that Draco’s question sounded extremely childish.
“I’m coming, too,” Harry said, putting his arm around Draco’s shoulders.
“It’s alright,” Draco mumbled, squirreling out of Harry’s touch once again.
Harry stared, feeling as he had when Draco first came to Grimmauld Place, that sinking doubt and fear that Draco was simply putting on an act in being intimate with Harry. Snape obviously knew there was something between them; why did Draco have a problem letting him verify what he had more than likely already surmised?
Snape shook his head. “You’ll just cause more trouble,” he said.
Harry’s anger at Draco’s behavior quickly escalated, and he took it out on Snape.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry yelled, stepping forward as if ready to get into a fist fight.
Snape scoffed and rolled his eyes.
“I can smell the sex on you two a mile off,” Snape spat, his eyes wandering down to Harry’s crotch. “Lucius may have his own agenda, but there’s no way he won’t notice whatever it is that’s going on between the two of you. And if he found out, I don’t think he’d bring the champagne to celebrate.”
Now it was Harry’s turn to blush. He backed away from Snape, only able to stare down at the floor. He hadn’t thought it had been so obvious.
“We need to go, now,” Snape said, looking at Draco.
“Fine,” Draco said, seeming to gain some courage back, “Let’s go.”
Draco tried to remember the attitude he had when he had decided to go with Harry to Grimmauld Place. He was a man, even if Harry had been playing at treating him like a little boy for three weeks now. He shouldn’t be afraid of Lucius; he wasn’t going to let him hurt him anymore.
Draco glanced back and forth between Snape and Harry. He was still unable to tell Snape’s position on his relationship with Harry, and part of him suspected that the man did not approve. Nevertheless, he realized he needed his Uncle to get used to his affection for the Boy-Who-Lived, and he gave Harry a hug and a kiss on the cheek before following Snape through the floo system to Hogsmede, and then once again back to the dungeons of Hogwarts.
------
Harry stared at the fireplace, nervous for what Lucius was going to do to Draco. He wanted nothing more than to follow Snape and Draco, just in case Lucius got rough. Even though he knew Snape would protect the blonde boy, he worried that something was going to go wrong. As each minute passed that Draco did not return, Harry became frantic. What if Lucius had found out Draco was staying at Grimmauld Place? What if he forced Draco back to Malfoy Manor for the rest of the summer?
It was only once Harry had resigned himself to following Draco to Hogwarts to determine for himself just what was going on with Lucius that he remembered Ron was supposed to visit that afternoon. Harry had been putting his requests to visit off for as long as he could, not ready to expose his relationship with Draco to even his best friend. He was worried what Ron would think, and a part of him was loathe to distill the solitary comfort he and Draco had found alone by allowing others a glimpse into their friendship. Nevertheless, Ron was his best friend, and he had been feeling guilty that he had been repeatedly putting off his requests to visit.
He had planned to have Draco spend the day away from Grimmauld Place while Ron visited, although he had never gotten around to finding a good excuse to get rid of the Slytherin. There were few reasons he could keep him out of the house for an entire day without making him suspicious, and knew Draco would be offended were he to explain the real reason he wanted him gone.
There was not enough time to send an owl telling Ron he would need to reschedule; Harry would just have to stay behind and welcome him. Maybe it was better this way; Draco was away at Hogwarts for the day, and Ron would never have to know that Harry was keeping house with the Slytherin. Harry pushed his worries about Draco out of his mind as well as he could and began cleaning up the house, preparing for Ron’s arrival.
It was less than an hour later when Ron arrived. Harry embraced him and they stood holding each other without words, Harry not having realized just how much he had missed his best friend until he was standing right in front of him. He felt closer to Ron than any other friend; he really thought of him not as a friend alone, but as a brother. It was a different feeling than those he had for Draco; Harry knew he could trust Ron to always be there for him, to never put his own agenda before Harry’s in a time of crisis. They had been through everything together, and, along with Hermione, Ron was family.
“It’s good to see you,” Harry said.
“I’m so effing glad to get out of that damn house,” Ron said. Ron liked to swear; Harry believed it allowed him to feel more adult than he did when at home. Being the youngest boy of five, the Weasley household was still likely to treat him like a child, particularly Mrs. Weasley. Even Ginny was treated more like an adult than Ron often was.
“Your mum’s still treating you like a first year?” Harry asked.
Ron sighed and took a seat on a stool in the kitchen. Harry had been cooking when Ron arrived; it took his mind off of his worry over Draco. He picked up where he had left off, measuring ingredients.
“She doesn’t effing understand that I’m grown now; she doesn’t need to hold my hand. And Fred and George are worse than she is, the wankers.”
Harry could see the frustration and anger in Ron’s eyes, and felt guilty for re-scheduling his visit so many times. He knew Ron had been disappointed when Harry told him he wanted to spend some time alone at Grimmauld Place over the summer rather than spend the whole time at the Burrow with the Weasley family, which had been an option.
“What are they up to now?” Harry asked, rolling his eyes in good humor. He knew the tricks the twins were often playing at, and despite Ron’s annoyance, he could not help but find the fun in their games. He glanced up at Ron while dicing a tomato.
Ron stared back at Harry for a moment before shrugging.
“Nothing,” Ron said, suddenly very interested in his fingernails.
Harry gave a small laugh, thinking Ron was fooling around with him.
“No, really,” Harry said. “What have they been doing?”
He wanted to hear stories of their tricks; it would keep his mind off of Draco and the thought that his father had captured him away and would take him to receive the Dark Mark and Harry would never see him again and when he did he would only treat him like dirt, working under Voldemort. He waited for Ron to answer.
“Just, I don’t know,” Ron stalled. “The…fucking…usual things.”
Harry put down the knife on the cutting board and placed his hands flat on the counter, leaning towards Ron.
“Ron, what’s wrong?” Harry watched Ron across from him, sitting slumped in a bar stool. He had been too focused on Draco until this point to realize just what shape Ron was in. Now, as he actually looked, Harry could see that Ron apparently hadn’t slept in weeks; his eyes were red and he had dark circles underneath them. He looked weak, as if he had a migraine he would never be able to get rid of.
“Come here,” Harry said. He led Ron across the kitchen to the living room, sitting him on the couch. He sat next to him, and put an arm around his shoulders.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come to the Burrow with you,” Harry said. “Has it been horrible?” Harry knew that he could never feel as if the Burrow were a horrible place; it was more home to him than any other place in the world, apart from Grimmauld Place. At the same time, however, he knew that Ron was still treated like a child while at the Burrow, and it was often extremely degrading. His brothers found it too easy to torment Ron with their tricks, knowing all of his secrets gave them wonderful blackmailing material.
“Their new idea of fun is forcing me to try out all the new pranks they’re inventing for the joke shop. They say that if I don’t follow along and agree to try each of them, they’ll tell Hermione that…” Ron glanced at Harry and down to the floor. “That…”
Harry nearly laughed as he realized that the twins were most likely planning to tell Hermione that Ron wet the bed occasionally. It seemed so ironic that he had been spending the last weeks with Draco, wetting the bed as much purposefully as anyone, and Ron was embarrassed to admit what the twins were blackmailing him with, even though Harry already knew the extent of Ron’s problems. He wondered if he should tell Ron and Draco how much they had in common; Ron’s expression of embarrassment and shame was the exact same as Draco’s. What were the chances his best friend and his pseudo-boyfriend were both teenaged bedwetters?
“Tell her what?” Harry asked. He knew Ron could only get over the embarrassment of it were he to begin treating it as a normal occurrence. Harry knew Hermione had been in love with Ron for years; she would not be deterred by a small accident or two. Well, at least he hoped she wouldn’t be.
“You effing know what, Harry,” Ron sighed, “They’ll tell her that I pee the bed.”
Harry decided not to acknowledge any embarrassment in the admittance.
“Well, Fred still pees the bed, too,” he said.
Ron glanced up. “So?” he asked.
Harry smiled at Ron’s ignorance.
“So, just tell them that if they tell Hermione, you’ll tell their friends about Fred’s little problem. And he’s older than you, which makes it even worse.” Harry hadn’t meant to say that last part. It made it sound as if bedwetting were bad, and he had wanted to make Ron feel as if it were normal.
“But Fred only wets when he’s drunk or stoned. It’s different.”
“It’s still embarrassing,” Harry said. “Besides, what’s the big deal anyway? It's only a few times a month. You really think Hermione would care about something so little?”
“Harry,” Ron said, shocked, “I’m seventeen. Seventeen-year-olds don’t pee their beds. It’s a fucking big deal. My mother looks at me like I’m defective or something. I’m so strung-out on Fred and George’s trick candy and pills and concoctions that I can’t sleep a damn wink, and every time I do, I pee my pants. I’ve been doing it almost every night. Shit, It hasn’t been this bad since I was a little kid. Hermione deserves a man, not a little boy.”
“Let Hermione decide for herself what she wants,” Harry said. “And peeing the bed does not make you defective.” He reached over to hug Ron close to him, wanting to take away his shame and distress. Ron sighed and leaned close to Harry, allowing himself to be absorbed into the embrace.
“You should stay here for a day or two. We’ll get all that shit out of your system. You’ll feel a lot better, you’ll see.”
Harry had offered before he remembered that Draco was staying with him. His words suddenly caught in his throat; he was nervous just what Ron’s reaction to his relationship with Draco would be.
“Could I really?” Ron asked. He had been afraid that when Harry did not come to the Burrow for the summer it had meant he was tired of Ron’s company. It made him extremely lonely to think that Harry would rather spend time alone at Grimmauld Place than with him at the Burrow.
Harry was moved by the genuine expression of relief on Ron’s face.
“Of course,” Harry said. He punched Ron gently on the shoulder, a sign of affection. “I’ve missed you.”
Ron smiled, the doubt and hurt of the past two weeks melting away as he leaned up against Harry, who kept his arm wrapped strong around him.
---
Edited May 16, 2012 by 222foxface222
(see edit history) |
I'm back! Thanks for the comments darklink2nd and Sev--I appreciate them and am really glad you're liking the story!
Here's the next chapter. I realize most of the chapters are pretty long, so if let me know if you guys would like me to shorten them or break them up, and I can do that from this point forward if that's what people prefer. Enjoy!
Chapter 13
The house was quiet as Harry slipped the lasagna into the oven. He was nervous that he hadn’t heard from Draco. Half a dozen times he had started towards the fireplace, about to go after him, but the thought of Ron kept him in place. An hour ago, he had put Ron to bed in a spare bedroom down the hall from the one Draco had slept in the night before; he didn’t want him to wake up and find the house empty.
As Harry had finished preparing the lasagna, his thoughts alternated between obsessing over Draco’s whereabouts and worrying about what Ron’s reaction would be when he found out that Harry and Draco had become an item. He figured it would be best to tell Ron before Draco arrived back at Grimmauld Place; that way he could still make him feel that he was being kept in the loop; it would ensure him that Harry and Draco were not conspiring behind his back.
He listened for any noise upstairs, but heard nothing. Ron must still be asleep; he felt certain that Ron would sleep straight through the night if he let him. Whatever it was Fred and George were forcing him to test out had not been good for him; The jokes had obviously screwed him up, and Harry was angry at the twins. Harry felt just as protective of Ron as he did of Draco. If he had Lucius Malfoy and Fred and George Weasley in the room that moment, he would have a struggle deciding which of them to hex first.
He figured the best way to cheer Ron up would be to invite Hermione for a visit. Harry somehow felt that she may understand about him and Draco, and he longed for her calm demeanor. She was always able to place anything into perspective. Despite his fear that she would reject his and Draco’s companionship, he figured he might as well tell both his best friends at once, and scribbled a letter for Hedwig to take over to the Granger’s, sending the owl on her way as he sat in the kitchen, watching the lasagna bake.
---
Draco arrived at Snape’s offices in the dungeons of Hogwarts. He scanned the dark room for his father’s tall, lean figure, but could not find him in the hollow room. Snape wandered behind his desk and sat, motioning for Draco to take a seat across from him, in the small wooden chair he forced his miscreant students to sit in when lecturing them after school.
“Where’s Lucius?” Draco asked.
Snape sighed, “He’s not coming, Draco.”
Draco stared back at Snape in confusion.
“What?” He asked, knowing he sounded simple.
“I needed to speak with you…without Potter.”
Draco stared in silence.
“You what?” he asked, enraged.
Draco stood up and began pacing back and forth in anger, mumbling to himself as much as to Snape.
“I can’t believe this. You made me worry that my father was here to force my return to the Manor or that, that, he had realized whom I was staying with or, or that my mother…”
“Calm down,” Snape said in a monotone. He was looking at Draco as if he did not have the time to tolerate him.
Draco glared back at Snape in a rare show of abject defiance towards the man.
“Have a seat, Mr. Malfoy, and allow me to explain.”
Draco huffed back to the chair, flinging himself onto it. He caught himself in the childish gesture and sat upright, hoping it made him look older, more mature.
“Your father did write a note, requesting your return to the Manor for your mother’s birthday celebrations,” Snape began. “Your mother has been asking about you. I’ve been able to hold them off for this long, but soon we will have to make a decision about just how long you’d like to uphold this charade. I have been in contact with your father, and I can assure you both he and your mother would like you to spend the rest of the summer back home. I wanted you to be able to make the decision on your own, without any…outside input.”
Draco knew that, of course, Snape meant Harry. He almost spewed back cruel words, but caught himself at the last minute as he realized he should possibly be grateful for the opportunity to make the decision on his own. Draco knew that his mother would be worried, and that he may be able to keep them from suspicion were he to return home at least for a short period, but at the same time, he felt only pain and doubt about returning to that house. He wanted to spend his summer with Harry; he couldn’t bear to leave him alone.
“I do not wish to return to the Manor,” Draco concluded.
Snape leaned onto his desk and propped his chin up on his hand, placing one finger horizontally across his lips, as if deep in contemplation. He was fighting to hide his conflicted emotions about the situation. He in no way wished to send the boy back to his abusive father, and yet he knew they were all walking on thin ice at this point. Were the relationship between Draco and Potter to become general knowledge, Snape would be forced to admit to his part in the establishment of it, and would thus compromise his position as Dumbledore's informant in regards to the Dark Lord's hunt for Harry. He suposed Voldemort may believe that Snape and Draco had conned Harry into the relationship as a means of keeping tabs on him, but it was doubtful; Lucius would have needed to be informed in that situation, and there was no doubt at this point that he had not been made aware. It was a difficult decision, but Snape felt it was safer for both boys were an end to be put to their fling immediately. It had all gone on long enough.
“You need to know,” Snape said, spreading his hands out flat onto the wooden desktop, “that I in no way endorse lying to your father. He is one of my closest friends, and while I do not condone his occasionally violent tendencies towards his own son, I will not continue lying to him in order to allow a schoolboy crush to be played out. If you do not explain to him your true reasons for staying away from home this vacation, I will be forced to step in and tell him just who you have been spending all of your time with.”
Draco was shocked. He believed his Uncle had been on his side, and now it seemed that he was still with Lucius, caring little for Draco’s happiness or well-being.
“He beats, me, Uncle,” Draco said, attempting to get Snape to understand.
“And I have already told you, Draco, I do not approve of child abuse. But this has gone far enough, and the situation goes beyond his treatment of you. This—”
Draco felt himself losing control. His Uncle was speaking to him the way his father often did, as if his opinion in no way mattered. He was being backed into a corner where neither decision would suit him.
“I am no longer a child, Severus!” he said loudly, suddenly on his feet in front of his Uncle’s desk. “And I do not approve of your ultimatums. I will spend my time with whom I see fit, whether you consent or not. Tell Lucius what you will; as far as I’m concerned he can go fuck himself. I’m no longer five years old spending the weekend under your care; no matter how much you would like to control me, you are no more my father than Lucius is!”
Draco started towards the door, turning his back on Snape. He heard Snape clear his throat, and clear his throat, a sound that only Snape could make sound quite so intimidating.
“Well, that was a very passionate speech,” Snape said calmly, mocking Draco.
Draco stopped walking, yet did not turn around. “You’ve actually managed to convince yourself that you won’t ever need anyone to help you now that you’re the arm candy of Potter. Your family means nothing, now? Wait until you have children of your own, Draco. You’ll see that it is all not as easy as you and Potter would like to think. Your father and mother have done the best that they can, the only way that they know how, and no matter what their treatment of you, they deserve to be respected. Your father only wants you to be successful. He’s simply preparing you.”
Draco turned to face Snape, making a conscious choice to remove the anger from his voice.
“Preparing me for what? To live my life as miserable as he does, or to know the proper way to beat my wife and child?”
Severus raised himself from his desk chair, provoked to true anger. He lowered himself back to a seated position when Draco held his hands out in front of him in a half-hearted gesture of apology.
“Uncle Severus, I understand.” Draco said, “He’s your best friend. You grew up together. You wrote homework together and dated girls together and joked around together. You’ll always forgive him, no matter what horrible thing he does next. But I won’t take it anymore. I’m not going to live underneath Lucius’s thumb anymore.”
Draco looked up at his Uncle, “And neither should you.”
He turned to walk out the door, stopping in the doorway to face his Uncle again.
“Tell Lucius not to bother setting my place at the dinner table for the rest of the summer.”
Draco walked away from his Uncle’s office, not bothering to answer the irate shouts following him down the hallway, yelling his nephew’s name and demanding that he return to the office of his Potions Master.
By the time he arrived back at Grimmauld Place, Draco was teary and shaking, wanting nothing more than to be wrapped in Harry’s warm arms. He flooed into the living room, immediately calling out Harry’s name as he felt himself dissolve into sobs, moments away from a panic attack. The stress of the day caught up to him at once, and he wavered between intense anger towards Snape and a sinking disappointment in himself that he had spoken back to his Uncle in such a way. More than anything, he was overwhelmed by the thought of his father learning of his whereabouts, and the thought was enough to cause him an almost debilitating fear.
Harry rushed from the kitchen as soon as he heard Draco calling for him, rushing towards the boy and taking him in his arms as soon as he saw the state that he was in. He was intensely worried, imagining Lucius to have treated Draco as roughly as ever. He had never seen Draco quite so upset. The blonde could barely breathe, in the throes of a panic attack as he sobbed in front of the fireplace.
“I got you,” Harry breathed into his ear. “I’m right here, Dray, and I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“H-he’s gonna...he’s going to t-t-tell,” Draco sobbed between gasps of air.
“Sh, don’t try to talk,” Harry soothed, rubbing the boy’s back as the smaller boy burrowed against his chest. “You’re safe now. Just breathe.”
Draco’s face was a mess of tears as he looked up at Harry and tried to catch his breath. He couldn’t see any way out of the situation he was in. He was trapped, and Snape was more than likely sending his father an owl right at that moment, calling Draco’s actions to shame in light of the Malfoy family name. Dissolving once more into hiccoughed sobs, he clutched to Harry as tightly as he could, needing to feel something other than overwhelming fear. But it was too much for his overstressed body to take, and Draco gasped as he felt himself begin to wet his pants in fear. Clutching down at his crotch with a gasp, he wailed and begged it to stop, his words practically unintelligible.
“No, no, no,” he chanted, shrinking back from Harry as if he had forgotten for a moment where he was. “I’m a big boy, I have to hold it.”
Harry was surprised at the words he could make out as Draco whined pitifully, his hands pressed between his legs as liquid began to trickle down to the wooden floorboards beneath him. The boy was acting much younger than his age, and Harry was extremely concerned. He still was unaware of just what had taken place during Draco’s short visit at Hogwarts, but he suspected it was anything but good if it had put Draco into such a state of overwhelming distress. The blonde didn’t even seem to register Harry’s presence as the larger boy placed a hand on his shoulder, looking up with fear in his eyes but without any sense of recognition. He looked young and helpless, lost in memories from darker days.
“I’m having an accident,” he whispered, still trying to twist his legs together to hold in his pee. “Daddy’s going to be so mad!”
Taking matters into his own hands, Harry lifted the smaller boy and began carrying him upstairs, shushing him and assuring him everything would be okay. He wanted to get Draco into a smaller space, wanted him to feel secure and safe. He hurried to the spare bedroom Draco had slept in the night before, closing the door behind them and letting the boy cry on his shoulder. He cast a quick silencing charm around the room; the last thing they needed was for Ron to be woken up and to come looking for Harry.
“I’m sorry,” Draco cried. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
“It was just an accident, Dray,” Harry said gently, rocking the boy back and forth as he paced around the room. He was surprised by how little Draco weighed. Harry knew that he himself was small for his age, and so was surprised to find that he could lift the blonde easily.
After nearly half an hour of soothing the boy, Harry had gotten Draco to calm down a bit. The boy lay slumped on his shoulder, exhausted after the intense show of fear. He appeared emotionless and barely present as Harry lay him on the bed and removed his shoes. Setting him down and bringing the blankets up and over him, he rubbed his back as the boy fell quickly into a nearly dead sleep, leaving Harry in a state of bewildered shock, sick to his stomach at the thought of someone hurting his Draco.
--- |
Here's the next chapter. No blatant omorashi in this one, but there will be some more soon--promise!
Enjoy, and let me know what you think!
Chapter 14
For some time, Harry sat beside Draco’s bed, watching the boy sleep. The blonde tossed and turned, calming when Harry reached to place his hand on his shoulder or the top of his head. Harry still had half a mind to storm back to Hogwarts and demand an explanation from Snape as to just what Draco had been subjected to during his visit to the Potions Master’s dungeons, but he could not bear the thought of Drace waking up alone. Besides, Ron was still asleep down the hallway, and it wasn’t as if he had been given a chance to casually sneak away and explain that he was not Harry’s only houseguest.
He had left Draco’s side for only a moment, needing to take the food out of the oven. He left the lasagna on the kitchen counter to cool and hurried back upstairs, no longer hungry. For once he was glad that Ron slept like the dead; Harry hoped he would sleep soundly until he had the chance to ensure Draco was okay.
It was after six o’clock by the time Draco began to rouse. Harry sat up straighter in the chair he had pulled next to the bed, leaning over and waiting for the other boy to acclimate himself to his surroundings. Draco blinked and rolled over, sitting up almost immediately. It was clear that he was already aware that something had occurred, clear that he was attempting to piece together just what had happened before he had fallen asleep.
“Hey,” Harry said tentatively.
Draco swallowed and glanced around the room. “Hey,” he said.
“Did you sleep alright?” Harry was unsure whether to broach the subject of earlier, not wanting to upset Draco all over again.
The blonde nodded, running a hand down over his face before flipping the hair out of his eyes. He stared past Harry towards the door of the bedroom, seemingly lost in thought. Harry reached out and took the boy’s hand.
“I...I’m sorry for earlier,” Draco said quietly, turning towards Harry. “I’m not really sure what happened.”
Harry nodded, still concerned. He had never seen Draco act the way he had earlier that day, so broken and lost. He felt guilty, having happily let himself get wrapped up in taking care of Ron and sending a message to Hermione because he was holding a slight grudge towards the blonde. He had been hurt that Draco had pulled away from him earlier, when Snape appeared in their living room. But he should have been there for Draco, shouldn’t have been angry at the boy for his hesitancy to place his affection towards Harry on display for Snape. It hadn’t been fair of him.
“I shouldn’t have let you go alone,” Harry said.
But, apparently, Draco was still fixated on the events that had taken place when he got back from Hogwarts, and he glanced down at his lap before giving a questioning glance towards Harry.
“Did I...”
Harry nodded, knowing the boy was remembering the way he had peed himself in the living room. Draco slumped back against the headboard, cheeks reddening.
“‘m sorry,” he mumbled
Harry shushed him as he climbed into bed with Draco. He wrapped his arm around him, allowing Draco to nuzzle into his chest as he rubbed the boy’s back.
“What happened, Dray?” Harry asked at last, his voice concerned.
“Lucius wasn’t there,” Draco sighed. “But Snape is threatening to tell him about...you and me, unless I agree to spend the rest of the summer back at my father’s house.”
Harry kissed the top of Draco’s head, glad to see that the boy seemed far calmer and more rational than he had earlier that day. He now understood Draco’s reaction, the blind fear that had been placed within him at the mention of his father. Snape had been right; there was no way Lucius Malfoy would approve of his son fraternizing with Harry Potter, and now the situation looked nearly impossible. What were they going to do?
“You’re not going back there,” Harry said firmly. “We’ll figure something out.”
He held Draco close, and the boy nodded. Harry knew that Draco hadn’t been convinced, that the conviction Harry had attempted to speak with was little more than a put-on show of bravado. Nevertheless, it seemed they had both come to the decision that pretending to be sure of themselves and the situation was the lesser of two evils; neither of them wanted to admit that their surety was nothing but wishful thinking, at least at the moment.
Standing up out of bed, Harry scrambled to the desk beneath the window and gathered parchment and a quill. He brought the items back to Draco and set them on his lap atop an old textbook, instructing him to write a letter.
“You need to write Snape and tell him you’re considering what he’s said,” Harry explained. “Let him know you’re thinking it all over, that you acted rashly by leaving without giving him an answer. You know, tell him what he wants to hear.”
Harry knew they were only buying a short amount of time, if any at all, by sending a note to Snape. But as he sat in bed clutching Draco to him and watching him compose a letter, an inkling of an idea formed. If he wanted to get them out of this situation, he just needed to make the benefits outweigh the detriments for Snape; he needed to give the man something he wanted enough to risk hiding their relationship from Lucius and the others. Draco had been helpful enough to point out where Snape’s interests seemed to lie, and Harry couldn’t help but have noticed the hitch in Snape’s breath the last time he had dismissed them from punishment in his office. It would be a gamble, but if Harry’s assumptions were correct, he knew the perfect way to gain the upper hand over his moody Professor.
“We’ll wait and see how long that buys us,” Harry said, rolling the parchment and hoping Hedwig had returned from delivering his earlier message to Hermione. “When the time comes, I think I may know just the way to guarantee that Snape won’t go to your father.”
Draco looked up at Harry hopefully, and the taller boy leaned down to kiss him on the mouth, feeling lighter as he became convinced of the validity of his plan. It would work; he knew it would. Snape may have become extremely skilled at hiding it, but the past few weeks had assured Harry that the Professor was as versed in perversity as the horniest of teenage boys.
“You should get some more sleep,” Harry said, taking the note in his hand and standing up off the bed. “I’ll send this and bring you some dinner in a little while, okay?”
Draco grabbed the front of Harry’s t-shirt as he turned to go and yanked the boy’s mouth back to his own, kissing him deeply. He only pulled away after many minutes.
“Thank you, Harry,” the blonde said, concern replaced by a simple exhaustion that was welcome after the trying day he had been through. He was used to dealing with everything on his own, having to solve his own dilemmas. Knowing the other boy was there for him, sharing the problem rather than abusing his knowledge of it, gave Draco a deep appreciation such that he had never felt towards another person. He squeezed Harry’s hand and breathed easier knowing he had gained an ally; maybe that Gryffindor loyalty really did function as an admirable character trait, despite what he had been made to believe.
Harry watched Draco lay back down beneath the blankets before springing out the door to send Hedwig on her second errand of the day. The owl wouldn’t be happy with him, having become used to the listless days of summer, but he would have to find another time to make it up to her. It was crucial Snape receive Draco’s message immediately.
Having sent the owl on her way after much prodding and the promise of allowing a night to freely roam the nearby forests, Harry set about dealing with his next issue at hand: his best friend. Knowing there was nothing in the world that made Ron happier than food, Harry warmed a plate of lasagna before moving quietly back upstairs to wake him, ensuring the door to Draco’s room was closed on his way past.
“Ron? Are you awake?”
Harry peered into the dark guest room, only slightly guilty about waking his best mate up when he obviously needed sleep. He needed to explain things to Ron, and he could no longer wait, what with Ron’s least favorite Hogwarts student asleep two doors down. Harry just hoped he would be able to understand.
Ron groaned and rolled over in bed. He pulled the comforter up over his face, blocking the light flooding in from the hallway.
“Brought you some food,” Harry said. “You hungry?”
Ron mumbled something, still half-asleep, and Harry stifled a laugh. He entered the room and sat on the edge of the bed, placing the plate of food on the bedside table. Ron’s face was flushed from sleep, his hand up next to his face. Harry yanked the blanket out from Ron’s grasp above his head, forcing him to adjust his eyes to the light.
“Fuck, Harry,” Ron mumbled slowly, drawing his words out as if he believed it all to be a messed-up dream he was having.
“You can’t sleep all day or you’ll be up all night,” Harry said, hoping his reasoning sounded convincing. “You’ve got to get your sleep schedule back on track. Come on, wake up.”
Ron groaned again and stretched, yawning widely.
“Okay,” he mumbled begrudgingly, rubbing his eyes.
“And, we need to talk,” Harry said nervously. “It’s about me not coming to the Burrow. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to spend time with you and your family, I just…”
“Hey, mate, could you just let me take care of the pissy bed before you start in on whatever it is you need to tell me?” Ron asked.
Ron pulled himself up to lean against the headboard and threw off the blankets, revealing a dark wet spot in the middle of the sheets. There was wetness throughout the crotch and thighs of his jeans, also. Harry’s stomach flipped; why was he so turned on by Ron or Draco wetting in bed? Ron reached for his wand on the bedside table.
“Sorry, mate,” Ron said, nodding towards the soaked bed sheets. He said a quick scourgify, and the wetness disappeared. Harry was relieved that Ron seemed more open about his bedwetting than he had when they were sharing a dorm at Hogwarts; here, when it was just the two of them, Ron didn’t even seem embarrassed.
“Not your fault,” Harry told him simply.
“Want me to put them through a wash?” Ron asked, “My mum likes to; she doesn’t feel they’re clean enough with just a scourgify.”
Harry shook his head.
“What’s the point? You’ll just pee ‘em again,” he teased.
Ron scoffed and punched Harry’s shoulder, pretending anger.
“Fuck off, mate,” he said, smiling.
Harry laughed and passed Ron the plate of food.
“Just eat,” he said.
Ron took large bites, shoving them into his mouth as if he had not eaten properly in weeks. Harry was always amazed at Ron’s large appetite. Then again, whenever he ate at the Weasley’s he could not believe the amount of food given to each of them; he almost always felt guilty because he was unable to finish what Ron and his brothers ate easily.
“I invited Hermione,” Harry mentioned, hoping to lead into the conversation about Draco.
Ron’s face brightened and he raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“Thought that might cheer you up,” Harry said, smiling sideways
Ron nodded as he swallowed his food.
“Thanks, mate,” he said, “You’re the best.”
“No problem.”
Ron glanced down at the food and made a face.
“Not the best cook, however,” he said, teasing.
Harry gasped in pretend offense. He had missed Ron’s sense of humor, missed having someone around to joke with. He wished he could have just a day or two with his best mate, without having to break the news that he was currently shacking up with a Slytherin.
“Then I guess you don’t want to finish it, you little fucker” Harry said, smirking as he reached for Ron’s plate.
Ron pulled the plate back away from Harry’s reach, not wanting to surrender the food. Both boys were stifling laughter.
“Well, I don’t want to offend you,” he said, “After all, I don’t want to be a bad house guest.”
“You’ve already pissed my bed,” Harry said, snorting with the effort it took to keep from laughing. He leaned against Ron and stretched his arm towards the plate, trying to grab it out of his hand. “I’d say you’ve already passed into the realm of bad guest.”
“Oh have I?” Ron said. “Well, what are you going to do about it?”
He climbed onto the bed, jumped onto the floor, and managed to run past Harry, holding the plate of half-eaten lasagna high over his head. He made it into the hallway, and took off down the stairs, glancing backwards as the other boy scrambled after him. Harry caught up at the bottom of the stairs, and grabbed Ron around the waist to pull him to the ground, forgetting about the food until it fell to the ground, making a mess on the floor and sending both boys into convulsions of laughter.
“Look what you did,” Harry said between gasps of laughter, gesturing to the tomato sauce splattered on the floorboards.
Ron snorted in laughter, “Me? You’re the one who pulled me down!”
“Well, you’re cleaning it up,” Harry teased, smiling crookedly.
“No fucking way!”
Ron flipped his middle finger towards Harry in good-natured ribbing, and the boys gasped for breath, their stomach muscles hurting from laughter. It was a long time before either could stop laughing; their giddiness would die down only to begin in earnest once again as soon as they looked at each other or the food on the floor. Finally they sat spent, exhausted from laughing.
“I’ll get a towel,” Ron suggested, smiling fully.
Harry nodded and picked up the green plastic plate. He began to search for his wand to help with the clean up, and was in the middle of scourgifying the tomato sauce off his t-shirt when he heard Ron call his name.
“Harry?” he yelled, shocked, “What the fucking hell is Draco fucking Malfoy doing in your fucking kitchen?”
--- |
This chapter involves desperation (a bit) and wetting. The next few chapters take them off to the Burrow, which just gives them a whole new set of problems to deal with. The Harry/Snape chapter will come after that, but I'll try to post often so you guys aren't kept waiting for too long! Thanks for reading :)
Chapter 15
“I was going to tell you,” Harry said, pathetically.
He had gotten Ron to calm down enough to sit in the living room, but Ron refused to sit near Draco, who volunteered to wait upstairs until things had calmed down. The redhead could barely sit still, fuming with anger although he looked as if he had half a mind to break out in laughter over the sheer insanity of the situation.
“Tell me what?” Ron asked, “that you’ve fucking lost your mind? Harry, Malfoy is in your house. Eating your food!”
Harry sighed.
“I know it looks strange,” he started.
“You’re damn right it looks strange. What the bloody hell is going on?”
Harry didn’t know how to start. He had wanted to tell Ron in his own time, to ease him into the idea so he wouldn’t be so angry. But now that he had seen Draco in his kitchen, there was no breaking the news to him gently. He would just have to explain and hope he understood.
“Snape’s detention was a complete mind-fuck,” Harry began, “He took our memories and showed us our embarrassing moments and generally was a complete git about it all.”
Ron didn’t look amused. He looked ready to leave the room and never come back.
“We were locked in the dungeons afterwards, and we sort of…bonded, I guess,” Harry said. “We have more in common than you’d think. And he couldn’t go home because his father is like this dictator who fucking beats him whenever he gets the chance and so I felt bad and said he could stay here if he needed somewhere safe.”
Harry breathed deeply, waiting for his best friend’s response.
“Are you fucking serious?” Ron asked, bewildered. “You bonded? This prat has tortured you for years, and now you’re letting him stay with you?”
“It’s not just that,” Harry said, wringing his hands. “I…I like him.”
Ron stared, gawking. He knew Harry was gay, hell, he and Harry had once fooled around. But he never imagined Harry would fall for the slimy Slytherin. He watched his best friend adjusting his glasses, and realized for the first time since he had arrived at Grimmauld Place just how different Harry had seemed. Their sixth year had been plagued with Harry’s sullenness and mood changes, and Ron could attest to the nightmares that woke the entire dorm room up so often that Harry had taken to keeping himself awake as long as possible. But he hadn’t shown any of those traits since Ron had shown up on his doorstep, and while Ron had attributed it to the ease of summer, he was starting to realize that it was something more than that. Was it possible that Malfoy had been good for him? That he had brought him a happiness Ron and Hermione had been desperate yet unable to give?
“I don’t believe this, mate,” Ron said, standing to pace around the room as if he were unable to process the information. “This is all some kind of joke, right?”
“He’s really not that bad,” Harry said, “He—”
“Bollocks,” Ron said, turning to stare at his best friend. There was no way Malfoy was sincere in his friendship towards Harry, and he needed to protect his best mate from the pain he was sure to cause him very soon. “Harry, this is Malfoy we’re talking about. The same Malfoy who treats Hermione as if she were the scum of the earth, the same Malfoy who has made it his mission to torment you, the same damn Malfoy whose father probably helped you-know-who find your parents to kill them and will help him find you to kill you in your sleep.”
“He’s different,” Harry mumbled, losing his confidence. “He’s not like that once you get to know him.”
“Just do me a favor and shut up about it, mate,” Ron said, clearly angry. “I don’t need you defending him. You know damn well this is a dangerous situation and you’re willingly letting yourself be placed at the mercy of a boy whose father would like nothing more than to hand your head to you-know-who on a silver platter. He’s not worth it, Harry.”
Ron leaned against the back of the couch, but had to back away as soon as he saw Harry leap from his seat and race towards him. He was tackled to the ground, and it was a few stunned moments before he realized he would have to fight back.
“Take that back,” Harry yelled, anger replacing rational thought. “You don’t even know him. He would never do that to me!”
“Sod off, mate,” Ron breathed, struggling to push Harry off of him. “I’m just being honest, and you know it.”
He rolled Harry over until he was straddling his waist, pinning him to the ground. Years of fighting with his brothers had taught him the best ways to disarm your opponents without ever actually having to hit them. He leaned down on Harry’s shoulders when the boy actually tried to reach up and punch him. Ron was stunned; he and Harry had rarely fought, and never over something as trivial as another boy. He had seen Harry’s volatile temper many times, but had never been at the other end of his aggression.
“You know I’m right,” Ron said, trying to speak as reasonably as Hermione would in this situation. “Nothing good can come of this.”
“Get off me,” Harry grunted, pushing Ron off his chest as he rolled away and stood to his feet.
They stood staring at each other, Harry straightening his clothes and rubbing his shoulder where Ron had beared down against him. He glared in anger until Ron turned to go, preparing to travel by floo back to the Burrow. He would once more be at the mercy of his brothers, only this time it would be worse, because he wouldn’t know whether he had a best mate to turn to if things got particularly rough.
“Will you at least give it a few days and come visit the Burrow to get your head straight? Mum will kill me if she thinks I did something to make you angry, and she wanted me to bring you back so she could make sure you’ve been eating and all that.”
Harry glanced up, still seeming to be on guard, ready to fight once more.
“Just think about it, okay?” Ron asked. “Leave the snake here and take some time away from this whole fucked-up situation.”
“Just leave, Ron,” Harry said, looking away.
Ron sighed, frustration rising. Here he was remaining calm and sensible, and his best mate didn’t even want to talk with him. It was obvious who Harry had chosen, and it seemed Ron had been replaced by, of all people, Draco Malfoy.
“You know what?” Ron started, hurt. “You two are perfect for each other. Neither of you give a shit about anyone but yourselves. Should make for a lovely relationship.”
Ron flooed away without so much as a glance back, leaving Harry at a loss for words. He felt an extreme animosity towards Ron for suggesting that he abandon Draco and leave him at the mercy of his father, and yet a part of him knew that everything he had said was accurate. He had been daft to think that Lucius Malfoy would never learn of the relationship, it was only a matter of time. And, when he had found out, he would more than likely kill him himself if he didn’t pass him off to Voldemort first. He felt terribly. Ron had only been trying to protect him, and he had not only insulted him, but attacked him, throwing punches like some kind of animal. He had a pounding headache as he trudged up the stairs towards his bedroom. Had he just lost his best friend forever?
“Are you okay?”
Draco was by Harry’s side, standing from where he had been sitting at the top of the stairs. He put a hand on his shoulder as Harry looked at him searchingly.
“I couldn’t help but listen,” Draco explained. “I was nearly all the way down the stairs when I heard him attacking you.”
Harry cringed, wishing he had the energy to explain to Draco that Ron hadn’t been the one to pounce, that it had been him in a ridiculous power struggle. But he had already lost the respect of his best friend. He couldn’t bear for his boyfriend to look at him with disgust as well.
“Can we just go to bed?” Harry asked, suddenly exhausted.
Draco nodded, but looked at the other boy with a hint of insecurity.
“Harry,” he chanced. “Maybe Weasley’s right. If my father found out--”
“Shut up, Dray,” Harry said quietly, shoulders slumped. “And take me to bed.”
---
When Harry woke up the next morning, it was to the smell of a hot breakfast, and the warmth of Draco’s small body beside him.
“How’re you feeling?” the blonde asked as Harry rolled towards him, rubbing his eyes as he groped for his glasses on the nightstand.
.
Harry groaned and flopped back onto the bed, abandoning his search as the memories of the night before and his altercation with Ron came back to him in an instant.
“Like shit,” he mumbled, throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the light that was hurting them.
Draco snuggled close and kissed Harry on the forehead as he reached over him to find his glasses; it was a strange departure from the days previous. For once, Draco was the one taking care of Harry. The roles had somehow shifted in the course of one night; Harry felt relieved as Draco hooked his glasses behind his ears, took him in his arms, and brushed the hair out of his eyes.
“It’ll all be okay,” Draco told him. “We’ll think of something.”
Harry nuzzled his head against Draco’s chest, and hoped the blonde boy didn’t feel him squirm. But Draco had gotten far too skilled at watching for the signs.
“Do you have to pee?”
Harry shook his head, squeezing his eyes closed. He felt embarrassment over their games after the ordeals of last night; any hint of the quietly sexual world he and Draco had inhabited for the first few days of the summer holiday only reminded him of the neglect he had shown towards Ron. Besides, last time he had wet himself, Draco had been angry enough to question their entire relationship. He would just have to hold it.
“No,” Harry lied.
Draco sighed as he lifted Harry’s t-shirt and ran a hand down the boy’s chest until it was placed on top of his full bladder, rounded out, a change from the toned flatness Draco was used to.
“You don’t have to lie about it,” he said as he kissed Harry’s temple. “I don’t mind.”
“‘m Sorry,” Harry mumbled as he unwrapped his arm from Draco’s waist and placed his hand between his thighs. He hadn’t pissed before bed and now he was desperate.
Draco shushed Harry’s concerns and stroked his hair.
“Just let it out,” he whispered into his ear, “It's just you and me, and I won’t tell anyone.”
Harry shook his head. He wanted nothing more than to pee his pajama pants in bed, to let himself go and to feel the hot wetness seep down his legs, but, in light of the night before, it somehow seemed wrong. Besides, what if Draco still thought he was disgusting? He felt his face heat with embarrassment; he was such a child, sitting in bed wanting nothing more than to wet himself. He believed he had long gotten over the shame of his little habit, but he could not help but blush now. He had let his best friend down, and it all just seemed so silly and immature in comparison. What if Ron never forgave him?
“You don't have to fight it,” Draco urged, “I know you’ll feel better if you let it go. And I don't mind, honestly.”
Harry let out a small squeak as he felt a strong urge. His legs twisted together and he buried his head under Draco’s arm, blushing to his ears. He felt so conflicted, embarrassed to wet himself but desperate to do so. Draco seemed to be giving him permission, and he knew it would make him feel better. Besides, he did not think he had the strength to get up out of bed and use the loo.
“Can’t hold it any more,” he said through clenched teeth, head beneath Draco’s arm. “I’m gonna…”
Draco ran his hands up and down the side of Harry’s face, rubbing the boy’s cheek with his fingers.
“Shh,” he said. “It’s alright. Just relax.”
Harry shook his head from side to side again.
“No, no, no, no, no,” he chanted subconsciously. He felt the tears in his eyes; he felt as helpless as when he was living with the Dursleys, locked under the cupboard. He wanted more than anything to wet the bed, but guilt tore at his mind, screaming at him to get out from under the blankets, to leave Draco’s warm embrace.
It happened slowly at first, trickles of urine that Harry felt dampen his briefs, a feeling like that of sitting in class as a first-year, begging the time to finish and hoping to god the wet spot wouldn’t show on his jeans when he took off his robes to change for the Quidditch pitch in front of the older students, hoping he wouldn’t soak himself while Snape wandered the aisles of the classroom, the he wouldn’t pee on the floor and have Hermione identify his small bladder as a medical conundrum she was sure to find the proper potion for if she could only be granted permission into the Restricted Section of the Library.
Draco held Harry as he cried, and it was only after Harry had quieted down, had collapsed against him and let the tears flow silently down his cheeks that Draco felt the fast heat on the leg he had placed between Harry’s. He could hear the hissing as it wet Harry’s pants and soaked into the sheets, as it trickled off their legs and poured into the mattress. Harry cried silently as he pissed, his thin cotton pajamas clinging to him, the pee cascading down his crotch and onto his ass, wetting his backside and leaving him sitting in a large, warm puddle. It felt a relief to relax, concentrating only on Draco’s touch as he voided into his pants and the sheets above his thighs turned nearly transparent, wetting purposefully in a way Ron would never understand.
“Better?” Draco said quietly when he felt the stream stop.
Harry nodded, choking on a sob.
“He hates me,” he sniffed, throat tight.
Draco rubbed his back and kept him close, reaching a hand down to feel Harry’s wet crotch. He squeezed the warm fabric in his palm, letting the wetness trickle to the back of his hand.
“We’ll figure it out today. Don’t worry. It will all be alright.”
When Harry heard a voice in the doorway he ducked down under the sheets so as not to be seen. He hoped to god the wetness of the bed wasn’t visible.
“Are you two going to sleep all day?” Hermione asked. “Breakfast is getting cold.”
The fact that he had sent for Hermione had completely slipped his mind. The fact that she would show up at Grimmauld Place the very next day was nothing to be surprised about, and yet Harry had somehow forgotten just how punctual she always was. He began to stammer some kind of explanation; there was no doubt she was shocked to find him lying in bed with Draco Malfoy. But Hermione ignored him, placing a hand on her hip as she spoke to them from the doorway.
“Change out of your wet things and come eat,” she said, signaling to both boys that she knew the state of their sheets. “I’ll need to hear the whole story if I’m to get Ron to understand all of this.”
Hermione closed the door as she left, leaving Harry and Draco both abashed and taken aback, shocked that they had been walked in on. Harry glanced up at Draco, worried he would scream and yell, that he would flip out because Hermione was in the house, because she had seen them together and in a wet bed that very well could have been caused by Draco just as much as Harry. He worried Draco would call Hermione the names he always had at Hogwarts, but as he watched him out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a slight smile playing at the corner of the boy’s mouth. Harry turned to face him just as he began to laugh.
“You should have seen yourself,” Draco snorted, “Ducking down under the sheets as if that could hide you. You’re soaked through!”
Harry glanced down at himself and the sopping wet bed sheets, breaking out into laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation. It just seemed to be one thing after another lately, and he knew if they didn’t laugh they would cry.
“Did you see the look in her eye?” Harry asked, leaning on Draco as he laughed. “I’ll bet she never expected to find her best friend lying in a wet bed like a four year old.”
Draco smiled and ran his hands down the wet insides of Harry’s legs.
“Yes, but you look so cute when you’re all pissy and sopping,” Draco teased, his voice deeper than before. “It’s a wonder she could keep her hands off you.”
Harry smirked devilishly as he kissed Draco, letting him feel the wetness of his pants and boxer briefs, letting him get himself off before they changed and retreated downstairs back to real life.
--- |
Thanks for the comments, everyone! I'm really glad you're all liking the story and it always makes me smile to hear your feedback! As a thank you, I decided to post the next chapter a bit earlier than I'd expected (I really should be sleeping right now since I have work in the morning, but you guys are worth it http://omorashi.org/public/style_emoticons/default/tongue.png).
This chapter only has a few mentions of omorashi, although the next chapters all feature wetting or desperation, so bear with me if that's what you're waiting for. I know the chapters with wetting are obviously the most popular, but I have to put the characters in the right situations first, so some chapters just need to forward the plot! I've done my best to add in some mentions here and there, however! Anyway, Enjoy!
Chapter 16
Harry and Draco met Hermione in the kitchen, taking seats on the stools while she set plates of toast and scrambled eggs on the counter. She eyed them carefully as they entered, obviously attempting to gauge the situation at hand.
“So,” she said, leaning on the counter across from them. “Care to explain?”
Harry chose his words carefully as he launched into an explanation of just why he was sitting in Grimmauld Place eating breakfast with a boy he supposedly abhorred. His most recent explanation had not gone well, and Ron had stormed away from him, possibly forever, and so he took his time to express his honest thoughts; the last thing he wanted was to alienate yet another best friend. Hermione listened carefully, and although he could tell she wanted to ask questions or express her anger towards Snape for subjecting them to a detention that would never be sanctioned under the Hogwarts code of ethics, she waited until he was finished. Draco played with his food and rarely looked up from his plate, knowing he had never had a great track record with the girl, who had often been on the other end of his most unkind taunts.
“And now Ron probably hates me and will never speak to me again,” Harry finished, unable to keep the worry from his voice.
“Harry, Ron could never hate you,” Hermione said in the sure, unapologetic way that he had come to expect from her. “But you are going to have to apologize to him. He’s just concerned about you. And probably a bit jealous.”
She glanced over towards Draco, who tipped his chin upwards in defiance as she scrutinized him, not liking the judgment in her eyes. He knew she was wondering whether he were going to turn on Harry and give him up to the Death Eaters, whether he was really acting with some kind of ulterior motive, and it angered him. He felt closer to Harry than anyone else in the world, and he was not about to ruin that by allowing his father to interfere. He wished he knew how he could make Harry’s friends trust him.
“I still wet the bed,” Draco said as he took Harry’s hand in his own. He spoke matter-of-factly, looking her straight in the eye. “I know it’s not much, but if this were all an act would I tell you that?”
She looked at him and then down towards their clasped hands.
“Alright,” she said, and Harry recognized that she had decided to take on the situation. He was grateful; if anyone could get Ron to see reason it would be Hermione. Draco, for his part, was simply glad she had chosen not to press the issue of his bedwetting. “I’ll talk to Ron. You two have done enough damage on that front as it is. ”
She stood and took Harry and Draco’s empty plates to the sink, ignoring the looks the boys were passing back and forth to each other. It would be quite the task, but she was not about to have her friendship with Harry and Ron split up over what she anticipated to be nothing more than a summer love-affair.
“Go shower,” she suggested, wrinkling her nose. “You both smell like pee.”
---
It took a few days and a visit to the Burrow by an apologetic Harry and a forceful Hermione, but both Ron eventually came around, albeit sullenly. Over the course of the persuasion, Hermione had given Draco and Harry her blessing after seeing just how good they were for each other. Like Harry, she had come to understand that Draco’s toughness was little more than an act placed on for the benefit of his father and the other students at Hogwarts. It was her acceptance of the relationship that finally caused Ron to come around to the idea, or at least agree to get to know the Slytherin outside of the hallways and classrooms of Hogwarts.
Harry and Draco had been selective in exactly what they had told Hermione, although Draco had been quite open about the abuse he had suffered at the hands of his father, knowing it was a necessary admission were Hermione to fully understand the vulnerability he had been degraded to after the detention.
At last, Ron agreed to spend the rest of the summer at Grimmauld Place in order to get to know Draco, to give him a chance. The only hitch in the plan was that Mrs. Weasley would not let him go unless he brought Harry and Hermione to the Burrow for a weekend first. She had missed them, and wanted to check in to make sure they were not underfed or unwashed. It was assumed Draco would stay back, but when she overheard Hermione and Ron discussing the fact that he was staying at Grimmauld Place with Harry, Mrs. Weasley would not give them peace until Ron agreed that Draco could come along as well. She may not have been a fan of Draco’s father, but she knew any friend of Harry’s had something good deep down that was worth uncovering.
Harry and Hermione both knew Draco would argue, that the last place he would want to be was the cluttered, ramshackle home of the Weasleys, but they knew they would have to get him to agree if they had any chance of reconciling Harry and Ron. If Hermione could convince Ron to give the relationship a shot, Harry could certainly convince Draco to accept the hospitality of Mrs. Weasley. It had taken a lot of cajoling, but the blonde at last agreed to the arrangement as a favor to Harry, although he regretted the decision almost immediately.
“I don’t think I should go,” Draco said for the hundredth time as he and Harry packed their rucksacks for the weekend. He looked even paler than usual, and hadn’t been eating well since it was announced that he would be joining Harry and Hermione on their trip to the Burrow.
“It’ll be fine,” Harry said, rubbing Draco’s back. “Mrs. Weasley will love you.”
“Weasley won’t. He hates me.”
Harry sighed.
“Don’t sulk,” he said. “You know this has been hard for Ron. He’s coming around to the idea, it’s just been a bit of a shock for him. You’ve sort of comandeered his best mate and all of a sudden he’s supposed to chance his entire opinion of someone he’s known only as an enemy. It’s only three days, Dray, and I’ll be with you the whole time.”
He kissed Draco on the forehead.
“Can’t you just tell them I’m sick, or something?” Draco asked, hopefully.
Harry shook his head.
“Ron would get in trouble with his mum if she thought he had done anything to make you feel unwelcome. We’ll get through it all together.”
Draco sat on the end of the bed.
“Until you brought me here, I’d never slept over at someone else’s house,” Draco confessed. “I was never allowed to. I’m bad at playing the role of house guest.”
Harry knew that Draco had been practicing drying spells with Hermione when they thought Harry was preoccupied with something else. Draco must be exceptionally apprehensive if he had broken down enough to ask Hermione for help.
“I’ll be there with you the whole time,” Harry said. “And, besides, you’ll try harder not to pee the bed.”
Draco nodded hesitantly, surprised at Harry’s suggestion. Did Harry think he hadn’t been trying? Did he think he wet on purpose, the way Harry did when he was feeling aroused? Draco wanted Harry to be there for him, but it seemed he still did not fully understand just how embarrassing it was to still be wetting the bed at seventeen years old. Draco was nearly exasperated by the entire sequence of recent events, and had half a mind to retreat back to Hogwarts and apologize to his Uncle Snape rather than subject himself to what he imagined was a home filled with antique sewing machines and tacky framed children’s drawings.
Harry was distracted from Draco’s concerns, worried that Ron had not yet forgiven him. He remembered how strange Ron had acted the first time Harry had spent the night at the Burrow. It was only after two nights of barely sleeping that Ron had confessed to Harry that he wet the bed not only once in a while, like he had told him in the first weeks of their time at school together, but almost every night. Ron had been convinced Harry wouldn’t want to be friends with him anymore, and Harry had needed to assure him many times that the wetting did not make him think any less of Ron. What he hadn’t told him was just how much the idea fascinated him.
Even before he had hit puberty, Harry was starting to become conscious of his obsession with wetting. And one night, after he had forced himself to pee the bed and had been able to admit his problem to Mrs. Weasley, he felt the draw even more in the way she hugged him and told him it was alright and led him to the bathroom to take a shower, in the way she gave him extra attention throughout the day and gently reminded him not to drink anything when it got close to bedtime. He knew he would get obsessed with the attention and the love, and it had been a terrible struggle against doing it again, one that he didn’t always win. Harry guessed that Ron suspected the intents behind his “accidents,” but it was to his best friend’s credit that Mrs. Weasley was never told of the purposefulness of Harry’s wet beds. Harry wondered if she still remembered those nights, if she had ever guessed what had really been going on.
The morning passed far too quickly for Draco, and, before he knew it, the time had come to travel to the Burrow. Hermione went first, and Harry insisted Draco go ahead next, saying he wanted to test to make sure the house was protected by Hermione’s charms while they were gone one final time, although Draco knew the real reason was that he didn’t fully trust Draco to follow behind were he to let him floo last.
“It will all by fine,” Harry assured him one last time before kissing him on the cheek and leading him into the fireplace.
The three guests were welcomed by the entire Weasley family, who hugged Harry and Hermione, and shook Draco’s hand politely. He could sense some animosity in the manner of Ron and his brothers and sister, and even in Mr. Weasley, but Mrs. Weasley pulled him into a hug and told him he had grown up into a very handsome young man. The Weasleys had been told that Draco was spending time at Grimmauld Place while his family travelled, that Snape decided the safe house of the Order to be the best place for the boy, despite Harry’s presence there.
“Mr. Weasley and I attended a Ministry Party years ago at Malfoy Manor,” Mrs. Weasley said, smiling widely as she ushered them all into the living room. “I’m sure you don’t remember, but you were just adorable, gretting everyone at the door and offering to take their coats to the next room. You must have been only four or five at the time, but a perfect gentleman even then.”
Draco smiled weakly. He remembered that party well. Even as a young boy, he had realized the work his father had assigned him had been work for House Elves. It had been a punishment assigned to him after Draco had wet his pants during an important dinner the week before. His father had been entertaining colleagues from the Ministry, and when the conversation went on for more than three hours, Draco got desperate to pee. He was not allowed to speak while at the dinner table, and all he could do was clutch himself between the legs and pray not to let go in his new dress robes. He remembered his face getting red when he felt the pee begin to seep into his clothes, remembered the way one of his father’s colleagues had raised his thinly plucked eyebrows across the table from Draco when he heard the trickle of wetness fall from the chair to the hardwood floor, clucking his tongue and shaking his head slightly from side to side.
“It appears your son is as weak as your arguments on this subject, Lucius,” the man had said, his voice loud and condescending. “You may want to focus a bit more of your time on teaching the boy some of that Malfoy self-control and a bit less time thinking up pompous excuses for your lack of knowledge on Ministry affairs.”
Lucius had forced him to take off his dress robes and mop up his own mess with the garment, had let the entire dinner table watch as he took Draco over his knee and spanked him. Draco did not cry, knowing it would make his father angrier, but, two and a half hours later, sitting listening to the same conversation, wearing nothing but his wet, soiled underwear, he peed again, the hot wetness streaming down his legs, dripping off his feet and pooling under his chair with loud trickling. He grabbed at himself but it was no use, and he wet himself again. It had been what his father had been waiting for; he had been proving to his colleagues that he was not one to give in to weakness, not even his own son’s. He had been shaming the man with the plucked eyebrows for embarrassing his boy in front of the whole room, for forcing Lucius to make an example of a five-year-old boy.
“Yes, I remember,” Draco choked, his mouth dry.
Mrs. Weasley smiled warmly once again at the blonde boy. She recognized he pain in his eyes and tried not to think of the horrors the boy had probably been subjected to as the son of Lucius Malfoy.
They sat down to dinner after the three guests had dropped their things in Ginny’s or Ron’s bedrooms, and Draco observed that Harry had seemed to come alive under the gaze of the Weasleys. They all looked at him as if he were a part of their own family, as if they had missed him like a long-lost son. He was the center of attention at the Weasley table, able to laugh when Fred and George passed each other faulty salt shakers, wink at Ginny when her parents said something ridiculous, and knock his elbow into Ron in a way that made him feel included, nudged into the limelight. Draco picked at his food and tried to remain personable, but he already wished he hadn’t come.
“And, Draco, honey, what are your plans for the rest of the summer?” Mrs. Weasley asked.
Suddenly, the eyes were turned onto him, who had been staring at his mashed potatoes, moving them around with the tip of his fork.
“Um, I…” he tried to think of something witty to say, something that would make them like him, find him endearing, but nothing came to him, and they all just stared.
“He’s planning to spend the summer blocking out the bad memories of Professor Snape’s lectures,” Harry said, coming to his rescue.
Everyone laughed, and Fred and George launched into twin impersonations of Snape giving out ridiculous punishments.
“Mr. Longbottom, twenty points from Gryffindor for you lack of discretion. How dare you sneeze in my classroom?”
“Miss Clearwater, fifty points from Ravenclaw for that tasteless blue eye shadow you are wearing.”
The table broke once again into amiable conversation, and Draco was forgotten about for the time being. He felt alone, and wished he could go home, wherever that was.
--- |
Here's the next chapter. This one features omorashi more prominently than the last one, and also introduces a new semi-relationship between Harry and Ginny that is really just an extension of the feelings Harry has towards his lack of a caring upbringing. I'm not looking to add regression into this story (I'm a fan of it, as I've said before, but I want to keep it mostly out of this story for the time being), but that one section does have hints of it in order to further explain his obsession with wetting and desperation, and I think it makes sense in the context. I'm curious to see what you guys like or dislike about that section (and the others, of course)! Thanks for reading :)
Chapter 17
He would try, he really would. If Harry believed he could work harder at not wetting, that was exactly what Draco would do. He knew Weasley was just annoyed enough to spread the rumors that would ruin Draco’s reputation and bring shame to his family. His pumpkin juice from dinner had barely been touched, and he hadn’t accepted anything to drink after that. He had even waited until the last minute before bedtime to use the bathroom and empty himself.
Harry and Ron had been playing chess before they all went to sleep, and Draco was feeling drowsy, watching the game. He wanted to tell Harry the moves he had planned in his head, moves that would catch Weasley off-guard, set him in place to win the game, but he didn’t want the redhead to show him any more animosity.
For his part, Weasley had been civil to Draco, even if it were a bit forced. The three boys had played Quidditch outside after dinner with the others, and Weasley had picked Draco first to be on his team. It was all show, because the twins had already agreed to join against the three younger boys in a two-person team while Ginny helped clean up from dinner, but Draco figured he was trying, at least.
Harry seemed more distant than ever when they all changed into pajamas and went to bed sometime in the early hours of the morning. Mrs. Weasley had stuck her head into the room around midnight to wish them all good dreams and to urge them not to stay up too late. She knew her pleas would go unanswered, but Harry and Weasley somehow seemed to appreciate her concern. Draco was shocked that a mother could seem so carefree, so easy-going and full of kindness for even those who were not her own children. Despite himself, he was drawn to Mrs. Weasley, to the way she rested her hand on Weasley’s shoulder as she asked him to clear the plates from the table, the way she cupped Harry’s chin in her hand as she appraised how much like his father he was looking, the way she stroked Granger’s hair as they sat talking after dinner and braided it effortlessly..
Draco wanted to talk to Harry alone before they went to bed. Despite himself, he was scared to sleep at someone else’s house. Everything felt foreign and strange; the household was too unstructured, too rambunctious. He wanted more than anything to just be back in his familiar bed at Hogwarts or in Harry’s embrace at Grimmauld Place. He needed to find Harry, needed the boy to tell him it would all be alright, that he had come up with a plan in case Draco pissed the bed, or that the blonde could wake him up if he needed him. But when Draco got back into Weasley’s room, Harry had disappeared.
“He went to Ginny’s room,” Weasley said in a grunt, noticing Draco scanning the room. “They’ll be snogging until they’re exhausted.”
Draco didn’t mean to look so confused, so betrayed. And, if he hadn’t been so preoccupied with his own problems, he may have previously noticed the way Harry teased Ginny, the way she smiled at him across a room of people and tried to touch him whenever she could. If he hadn’t been so preoccupied, he may not have been taken so much off-guard.
“Don’t look so jealous,” Weasley mumbled, “It’s just something they play at. She knows he’ll never be into her, it’s just always been like that between the two of them. They just like playing games.”
Draco closed his mouth and climbed into the cot that had been set up for him between Weasley and Harry’s beds. It was a warm night, and the bedroom was stifling in the heat; Draco felt as if he could not breathe. He was too close to the boy on his right, who flicked off the lights and rolled over, pulling the sheet up past his head, the blankets kicked down to the foot of the bed. Draco thought he was asleep, thought the slow breathing meant Weasley had passed out and wouldn’t be awake until the morning, but after half an hour of staring at the ceiling, he heard Weasley speak. .
“You better not be playing at this just to get close to him and then turn on him,” he said.
Draco turned to look at Weasley, but the boy had his back to him and the sheet still over his head. The sky was already filling with a soft light as he looked past the boy through the opened window despite the fact that they had only gone to bed a short time ago. He could hear the twins across the hall still up to who knows what and someone traipsing down the stairs loudly. What kind of household allowed its children to stay up all hours of the night?
“I’m not,” Draco said, frustrated. He didn’t want to have to defend himself. Why had he agreed to come? Harry had abandoned him, leaving him in the clutches of unrefined, hostile Weasleys.
Weasley turned over and tossed the sheet off himself, as if he had just been waiting for the chance to get into an argument.
“Then what the hell is this?” he asked. “None of it makes sense. Maybe Harry can’t see past it all, but someone doesn’t make your like a fucking hell one day, and then become your best mate the next.”
And then Draco realized why Weasley had been so defensive from the beginning. He was jealous. He was scared Draco had replaced him as Harry’s best friend.
“He already has a best friend,” Draco mumbled, just wanting to be left alone.
The boy was quiet, and Draco could see even in the dark room that he was looking him up and down, trying to gauge whether he was being truthful or not.
“I’m not trying to replace you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Draco sighed, “I needed somewhere to stay, and Harry took me in. I owe him too much to bring my fucked up problems into the lives of his friends. Not that it’s any of your damn business, anyway”
“It’s my business if my best mate is being fooled by your pathetic little act,” Weasley said, sitting up in bed. Draco followed suit, glaring at him in the half-darkened room as he broke into a sinister laugh.
“Oh, I’m pathetic?” Draco questioned, not allowing the edge of harshness to leave his voice. “God, you’re so obsessed with him you can’t even let him make his own decisions, can you? Are you gonna go cry to mommy? She certainly does everything else for her little baby, so why shouldn’t she manage your friendships as well?”
Weasley placed his feet on the floor, ready to jump to his feet as he warned Draco to leave his mother out of it all. His jaw was clenched and his eyes round and angry; Draco had the sense he was ready to fight, had been intentionally provoking Draco towards it and was now only waiting for him to make the first move. Draco would have liked nothing more than to beat him up and put him in his place. Had they been at Hogwarts, he would have already shown the boy what he was capable of, would have struck him two quick jabs to his face before the other could have even raised his fists. But they were no longer on neutral ground, and he was not about to hit the boy in his own house. Besides, he knew the Weasel would use the fight against him, that he would get Harry to turn on him and his mother to ban him from the Burrow. And, as much as Draco wanted to show the redhead the error of his idiotic ways, the thought of returning alone to Grimmauld Place, of leaving Harry alone with a family who would more than likely convince him to throw Draco to the dogs was too much. He needed to stay, as much as he hated the shabby rooms and dusty hallways.
“Not so tough without your cronies,” Weasley taunted, turning over and ending the subject.
Draco tried not to give in to anger, fought against leaping out of bed and pummelling the Weasel until he bled all over his mommy’s perfectly tucked-in sheets. He clenched his fists and focused on breathing. What right did he have to judge him? He swallowed and realized he was taking shallow, hurried breaths. If he didn’t get out of the room, if he didn’t leave the presence of the redhead, he would give in to the frustration and anger, and Harry would never forgive him. It was only once he had stormed out of the room, hurried down the stairs and was pacing in the back yard that he realized it was probably what Weasley had wanted all along.
---
“It’s getting bad,” Harry whispered as Ginny ran her fingers along his stomach.
“You’re not going to have an accident, are you?”
She spoke in a light voice, moaning softly as she saw Harry pluck at the crotch of his jeans. She had specifically asked him not to change into his pajamas yet.
“Shut up,” he smiled, smiling sideways. “I can hold it..”
It had started the summer after Ginny’s first year at Hogwarts, one night when she found Harry in the hallway outside Ron’s room at the Burrow. She was only eleven, and he nearly twelve. He stopped short and stared, and it wasn’t hard for her to see the wetness across his crotch and down his legs.
“Oh, Harry,” she said, surprised. She was familiar with her brothers’ wettings, but she hadn’t assumed Harry was a bed-wetter, too.
“I—I—didn’t mean to,” he stammered, trying to cover the wetness with his hands.
Ginny had approached him, shushing as she put a finger to his lips. Did all boys wet the bed? Were they all just toddlers, needing someone to care for them? She moved his hands out of the way and, without realizing what she was doing, placed her own hand against harry’s wet thigh. Even as a little girl, she liked to see her brothers in wet pants. She waited in excitement for the days her mother punished Fred or George or Ron or even Charlie and Bill by forcing them to go down to breakfast in their wet pajamas. She remembered playing outside with Ron before they had been sent to Hogwarts, remembered the way his face scrunched up as he danced from foot to foot right before he had an accident. He always started to cry right before the pee surged into his pants, right before he squeezed and grabbed as the wetness spread.
“It—I—it was an accident,” Harry explained. “Don’t tell Ron.”
She could see the redness of his cheeks even in the darkness, the tears in his eyes. It was such a small thing, wetting the bed. And yet she had seen it reduce each of her brothers at one time or another into tears. Ron had cried for weeks before going to Hogwarts, Fred and George cried when they couldn’t go to sleepovers, Bill cried the time he fell asleep in the car and peed all over himself. Even Charlie had cried, the day Bill got angry and told their friends he still peed the bed like a little boy. And, through it all, Ginny had watched as her mother shushed the tears, as she cleaned sheets and handed over dry underwear, as she warned against late-night drinks and put waterproof spells on the mattresses.
“Don’t cry,” Ginny said. “I won’t tell. You didn’t mean to, you couldn’t help it.”
Harry shook his head and let her cradle him in her arms, bending down to lean his head on her shoulder because he was taller than her by half a foot. She led him into her room and cleaned him up, kissing his forehead and rubbing his back until he fell asleep in her own bed.
Over the years, it had turned into a game. Harry had found the same care and attention in Ginny that he had in Mrs. Weasley on those nights he had wet the bed on purpose, except Ginny kept it quiet, seemed to like caring for him as much as he liked the soothing words and childish assurances. And, when they were both old enough, the game became almost sexual. Despite the fact that Harry was not attracted to Ginny or other girls, the coddling turned him on, gave him a small relief from the yearning for care he had always held deep inside him.
“Oh, Merlin,” Harry winced, pressing down on the front of his jeans. He had drunk extra pumpkin juice at dinner, taking Draco’s when he saw he wasn’t touching it.
“It’s getting really bad,” he breathed after an intense urge to pee. He was lying on Ginny’s bed, and she was pressed up against him, turned sideways leaning on her arm so she could see everything clearly. She leaned in close and he felt her tongue in his ear, which made him squirm.
“You better not pee-pee on my bed,” she whispered. “You’re too old for accidents.”
Harry groaned, pressing his legs together around the hand in his crotch. There was an element of the maternal in her tone, an element which shamed him as much as it turned him on. It made him feel the way he had looking into the Mirror Erised, loved and content and yet so needy and empty. Ginny understood, and could fill a role that no boy had ever before been able to.
He knew she was waiting too, knew she had one hand down her own pants, aroused beyond measure if the gleam in her eye was anything to go by. He closed his eyes tight as he kneaded his crotch, and when he looked up at her it was with a look of desperation, eyebrows furrowed and eyes filled with a sense of emergency.
“I—I--can’t,” he gasped in a tight voice, feeling a trickle of pee escape. Ginny moaned, and tried hard not to bring herself to climax too early; she didn’t want to waste it.
“I’m going to—I’m gonna...”
Harry groaned as he brought his knees up to his chest and squirmed against the hand in his crotch, pinching the end of his dick through his jeans and underpants. He knew there was a wet patch on the light blue briefs, a wet patch mocking him in its testament to his lack of control, his boyish behavior. His cheeks colored but he did not want to tell her, could not take the look of disappointment in her eye if he let her know he was already losing control. She knew just how to play into his needs, knew that, as much as the maternal act shamed him, he was as desperate for it as he was for a pee.
“Just a bit longer, now,” Ginny told him hopefully. “You can hold it.”
But Harry knew she was just humoring him, that it was only a short time before he would lose control.
“Oh god,” Harry gasped, “Oh god, oh god, fuck!”
He felt a spurt of wetness soak through to his jeans without warning, the warm wetness dampening his fingertips as he struggled against losing control. He used his other hand to cover the wet spot, not wanting Ginny to know he couldn’t hold it, that he was wetting in his pants.
“It’s really bad,” Harry confessed, his eyes closed.
In his current mindset, he wanted to give himself an excuse, to describe it all before it really happened so she wouldn’t’ be upset. But his cheeks were red, and Ginny knew he had already gone some in his pants. For her part, she wanted more than anything to see the pee stream out of him, travel fast and hot down the inside of his legs and trickle out of the crotch of his pants and underwear.
“Can you make it?” she asked, “Can you hold it for me just a little longer?”
When Harry whimpered, she knew he was losing more. He breathed quickly and took both hands between his legs.
“I can’t,” he exclaimed. “I have to go so bad!”
No matter how much he squeezed and squirmed, the spurts of pee continued. He felt the tears in the back of his eyes as he felt his jeans sop up the wetness, and his heart skipped a beat when he realized he could no longer hold it. He had started to pee himself. The pee was streaming out of him, soaking through his underwear and bubbling against his grasping hands, soaking down his thighs until Ginny could see the wetness spread, could watch as it pulsed through his jeans and began wetting the blanket he was lying on top of.
“Oh no!” He cried, “I’m doing it, Gin. It’s coming out.”
Ginny came as he cried out, as the pee streamed into his jeans and saturated his crotch and thighs. She climaxed as he whined like a first-year, forgetting himself and everything else except for the shame of peeing his panties, of regressing back to a little boy if only for a moment. He let go of his crotch and stuck his hand into his pants, the hot pee trickling off enough for him to rub to climax himself.
When he was done, they lay entwined, both spent and breathing heavily.
“Don’t be mad,” he said. “I couldn’t hold it.”
Ginny kissed him on the cheek and reached down to massage his soaked groin. She could never be angry with him. Not when he gave her the most intense orgasms she had ever had without even touching her.
---
Draco was very close to gathering his things and leaving that very night. Why had he agreed to come? Why had he trusted Harry, why had he followed him to this god-forsaken place and then abandoned him, leaving him at the mercy of a family his father had always despised? He hated it here, hated the way he felt like an outsider, like he could never belong in such a disorganized, warm place.
He jumped when he heard a voice.
“Late night stroll?”
Mrs. Weasley stood framed in the doorway of the back porch, leaned against the doorframe with one hand on her hip. She appeared to have been watching Draco for some time.
“Sorry,” Draco mumbled, too exhausted to put on an air of fake friendliness or even to look her in the eye. “I, ah, just needed some air.”
She nodded and walked down to sit on the step of the back porch. Draco crossed his arms, suddenly shivering despite the thick humidity of the air and his sweaty skin.
“I couldn’t sleep,” he said when she continued to watch him.
“Draco, come here.”
He could not understand how she could do that. How she could demand something in such a soft voice, without a hint of ultimatums behind it, free of blinding anger. He sighed and sat on a porch step below her, not knowing what other option he had. He couldn’t very well stand outside the entire night.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked after he had flung himself onto the porch.
“No.”
Mrs. Weasley took a breath.
“I know my boys are a bit much to take all in one go,” she said, “Especially Ron. I can’t imagine he’s taking this new friendship between you and Harry very well, and if I know him at all, the only way he’s figured to deal with it is to take it all out on you.”
Draco glanced back at her, surprised at just how much she was aware of what went on in her household. Had she heard them arguing?
“I shouldn’t have come,” Draco mumbled, shrugging..
“I’m very glad you did,” Mrs. Weasley said. Draco stared. He couldn’t detect the slightest hint of falseness in her voice.
“Why?” he asked. “I’m just messing everything up.”
Mrs. Weasley shook her head.
“I’m glad you came because it gives me the chance to tell you how wonderful you are, how much compassion is behind those eyes, how much power is still fighting to keep you strong despite the number of people who have tried to beat it out of you. I’m glad someone is here to tell you that what Harry sees in you is not something fleeting and happenstance, it’s the core of you, and it’s good.”
Draco blinked, having not the least idea of what to say. He tried not to get too stiff when she reached to brush the hair out of his eyes
“Just remember that no matter what, you’ve already overcome more than most boys your age. You’re like Harry in that sense. Neither of you ever had a chance at an actual childhood, and that’s something Ron can’t understand. That makes him angry. But even he understands that you deserve to be happy once in awhile, Draco.”
He was disgusted when he had the impulse to cry, immediately running his arm over his eyes to keep her from seeing how glassy they had become. She must be lying. No one cared about him, no one saw anything within him. But, then again, her eyes looked at him with more warmth than he had yet seen from her gaze, and he knew that couldn’t be faked. Maybe she really did believe what she said. Maybe.
“Would you like a snack? You hardly touched your supper.”
Draco shook his head. He was too exhausted and out of his element to eat..
“How about a glass of warm milk to help you fall asleep?”
“I can’t,” Draco sniffed, “or I’ll—”
He caught himself at the last minute, but felt his cheeks redden all the same.
“Ah,” she said knowingly. “Is that what’s bothering you?”
She took Draco’s hand in her own, and although his first instinct was to shrink away from her touch, he found himself comforted when she squeezed his hand and patted the top of his wrist gently with her other hand.
“Not to worry,” she said, leaning towards him. “There are plenty of spare sheets in a house with seven children and a family history of small bladders.”
Draco reddened even more; had it been that easy to see that he wet the bed? Was it that easy to categorize? Surely she was talking about freak occurrences when her children were small; it was different to be a bed wetter at his age, to still void into his bed without any control whatsoever at seventeen years old.
“I don’t...” he stammered, “I’m not going to...”
“Just a small glass,” she said, standing up and waiting for him to follow her into the kitchen. “It’ll help you get to sleep.”
And, despite the nervousness he felt over drinking anything this late at night, he let her make him some warm milk, let her sit with him at the kitchen table while he drank it down, and let her lead him up the twisting stairs, calmed enough to sink into bed and fall asleep at last in the humid warmth of the small bedroom..
---
Edited May 26, 2012 by 222foxface222
(see edit history) |
Hmm...I wanted to post this chapter seperately from responses to the comments, but whenever I post it combines both of them (maybe because I'm responding consecutively?), so I put responses below this chapter...sorry for any confusion!
As a warning, this chapter involves spanking, although if you made it through the first two chapters of this story, I'm sure this will seem fairly tame in comparison! They're coming up to their final days at the Burrow and then they'll be back to Grimmauld Place, where Harry will have to deal with Snape once and for all. I'm looking forward to that chapter and a few of the others coming up are some of my favorite. This chapter is a bit shorter than normal, but I had to break it up before the next one, which I will try to post quickly!
Chapter 18
The first thing Draco realized upon awakening was that he was soaked from his stomach to his knees. The next thing he realized was Ron Weasley staring down at him, standing in the small space between his bed and the cot. Draco rubbed his eyes and scurried farther down under the sheet, yanking the blanket that had fallen off in the course of the night back over his body. Why was the Weasel looking at him like that? Had he seen? Draco’s heart beat quickly; he felt sick to his stomach. Where was Harry? Why was his bed still empty?
“Get up,” Weasley mumbled. “I’m bringing mine to the wash, anyway.”
And it was then that Draco noticed the tumble of sheets bunched together, resting on the end of Ron’s bare mattress. It was then that he saw Weasley’s pajamas thrown on top of the pile. It was then he saw the wetness of his boxer briefs, and saw him walk to his dresser to change into clean underwear.
“Well? Are you just going to lie there all day?” Weasley asked when he turned back to face Draco, who was still in shock. There was still a brusqueness to the other boy’s voice, still the frustration that had been there the night before, yet his eyes were softer. Draco wondered if he were relenting. Had Mrs. Weasley said something to him?
“Sorry,” Draco mumbled.
He didn’t want Weasley to see his wet clothes, but it wasn’t likely that the redhead would leave the room so Draco could clean up. Taking a breath, he shoved the blanket and sheets to the end of his cot, seeing for the first time the puddle of pee he was lying in, the way the plastic-covered cot had allowed the urine to pool in the center, to soak him from his t-shirt to his ankles. Draco was shocked at how much liquid there seemed to be. It dripped off his pants and onto the floor when he stood up.
Embarrassment deterred him from having the mental energy to become hostile towards Weasley He couldn’t very well deny what had happened; the redhead had obviously seen it all. But the fact that he had not hid his own wet sheets from Draco made him believe he may just have had a change of heart, may have decided to give him a chance.
“I’m sorry,” Draco said again when his pee dripped onto the bedroom floor.
Weasley raised his eyebrows slightly.
“Did you do it on purpose?” he asked.
“Hell, no!” Draco exclaimed, whipping his head towards the other boy and squaring his shoulders for a fight.
Weasley looked at him in aggravation.
“Then don’t fucking apologize,” he said, voice harsh.
He walked past Draco and bent down towards the cot. Using the dry spots of the sheet and blanket, he mopped up the puddle of Draco’s pee and then bundled them all up into a ball that he threw onto his mattress, next to his wet things.
“Change out of your wet pants,” Weasley spat. “Unless you need Daddy Harry to do it for you.”
Draco shook his head. Why was the boy teasing him? Hadn’t he just pissed the bed in exactly the same way? What made him talk with the air of disgust? And what made Draco feel so vulnerable to it, instead of angry? A part of him was intrigued by Weasley’s tone, turned on in the way he talked down to him. It wasn’t like when Harry played at disciplining him, like the time he had pretended to be Snape. With Harry, despite the arousal and excitement, there had always the understanding that it was a game; Harry just didn’t have it in his nature to degrade and humiliate. But Draco actually believed the Weasel’s disgust. And, what was more surprising, it was turning him on. He looked up to find the boy glowering down at him, yet, despite his disdain, Weasley was staring at him with an intensity usually reserved for half-naked bodies in darkened rooms.
Heart beating and breath coming fast, Draco returned the gaze as he reached down between his legs and rubbed the wetness at his crotch. He couldn’t remember ever wetting himself to the extent that he just had. He felt the clammy pee from his nipples down, felt the way it clung to his skin, the way it shamed him as the Weasley boy watched in disdain.
“Take off your clothes,” Weasley said sternly. “Strip out of them, pisser.”
He was stepping forward, edging closer. Draco could see the hard-on in his recently changed briefs.
“I guess you’re nothing but a fucking pee-the-bed little boy,” Weasley said as Draco pushed his wet pants to the floor. They fell with a thwack, and he stepped out of them, the smell of urine clinging to him. He peeled the t-shirt from his body, and was left standing in his white briefs, which were wet throughout the entire front; there was no doubt he had pissed himself while lying on his stomach.
“Can’t fucking control yourself for one damn night, can you?”
Weasley reached forward and, grasping the Draco’s arm, turned him around roughly. Without a word of warning, he slapped Draco hard on his ass. The blonde boy gasped, a bright rage flashing as he clenched his fists, but he stood still and tense, waiting for what he knew was only a breath away. He was powerless as his anger dissipated into deep, desperate arousal, unable to keep the moan of pleasure from his voice.
“When will you ever learn?” Weasley hissed into his ear, echoing years of condescension and verbal abuse placed upon him by his father. “Why can’t you grow up and learn some self-control?”
He spanked him again, hard enough that Draco had to bite his lip to keep from screaming out.
“I couldn’t help it,” Draco said, turning his head because he wanted to see the fierce concentration in Weasley’s eyes. “I didn’t mean to, sir.”
“You’re too old for this shit,” Weasley said with another smack. “Your brothers all grew out of this years ago. Why can’t you stop peeing the bed, you little shit-head?”
Draco craned his neck to look at Weasley. The redhead was looking off past Draco, his face ardently impassioned, yet crumpled in its hints of shame. And Draco realized Weasley was not just playing into Draco’s arousal. The boy was telling Draco the thoughts that went on in his own mind day after day, admitting to the demons that plagued him, the insecurities he felt about his own bed wetting. He sat on the cot, bent Draco over his knee and hit him hard, spanking him until his ass was. But Draco didn’t fight it, finding a release in the violence of it all, understanding all too well the same shame and fear of inadequacy which Ron held inside of him, the same fear of abnormality, the same humiliation over such a blatantly childish display of helplessness.
---
The breakfast table was quieter than any meal they had thus had at the Weasley’s. Everyone seemed distracted and a bit sullen, picking at their food in silence. The quietness of the room was only heightened by the fact that Mrs. Weasley was not eating with them. She had ushered them all downstairs to the table and passed around plates of food, but she and Mr. Weasley were planning to run errands that day, and she had left them to eat while she was upstairs straightening rooms and waking Mr. Weasley before they left. Draco hoped she wouldn’t look twice at the cot he had peed on. He had tried three different drying spells before he got one right. Ron had been no help, abandoning him almost immediately after the spanking to carry their wet things to the wash. Draco had brought himself to a shameful climax only moments later, hunched over with his hand inside his sopping wet briefs.
He sat at the breakfast table distracted over the events of the morning, of the satisfaction he felt in being hit, the way it had made him feel. He had been denying it for years now, the desire to be yelled at, to be dominated It seemed Ron had seen in only a short time just what Draco longed for, his need to be punished and abashed. Despite his mother’s support of his bedwetting, it seemed Ron understood all too well the inadequacy that developed after years of not being able to control your own body, the deep desire to feel mature and grown up that proved unattainable, leaving at last only the need to be humiliated and abused. Because, at least then, you’d have paid for the naughtiness, and the disappointment could be forgotten, if only until the next set of wet sheets.
He knew Harry would never hit him, even if Draco asked him to. It was not something he would understand, despite the boy’s own twisted upbringing. It seemed Harry had come out of his abusive childhood only with the resolve to never return to that place. He had left his Aunt and Uncle’s house long ago, and would never understand that, in his darkest fantasies, Draco wished to return to the place of torment they had both come from in their paralleled pasts, that in fact he had never left.
Mrs. Weasley came bustling back into the kitchen with an arm full of laundry, and Draco couldn’t help but glance at Ron out of the corner of his eye, grateful this was not the moment his mother would confront him about wetting the sheets, grateful Ron had already taken care of their indiscretion. For his part, Ron was acting as if nothing had happened between them, as stone-faced and cold towards Draco as he had ever been.
“Harry, dear, I’ll wash your jeans for you,” Mrs. Weasley called on her way to the laundry room. “And, Ginny, I thought I might as well throw in this blanket, also.”
Both Harry and Ginny choked on their food as she went by, staring at each other in what was obviously concern or fear. Ron scoffed and Draco saw him pat Harry on the thigh under the table in a sort of admiration, hiding a smirk with his hand as he brought a piece of toast to his mouth.
Draco wasn’t hungry; he wasn’t used to eating so many home-cooked meals in succession and his mind was too full of recent events to have an appetite. He pushed his food around on his plate and took small sips of pumpkin juice. He tried to catch Harry’s eye, or Ron’s. He hadn’t spoken to Harry since the night before, and he felt frustrated with the boy as well as forgotten. Harry sat across the table next to Ginny, and she kept poking him in the side, forcing his attention while he downed glass after glass of juice, squirming in his seat.
The visit to the Weasleys’ had already changed how he viewed the dark haired boy. Part of him was glad to find the boy so at ease and content, comfortable within what had obviously become home for him. And yet Draco was confused over the neglect Harry had shown him. It was a stark contrast from the nurturing Gryffindor protector he had come to expect from the taller boy. He remembered what Ron had said, the way he had explained that Harry turned to Ginny to be taken care of, and wondered if it wasn’t similar to what he had found that morning in Ron: someone who wordlessly accepted the perversity of your darkest desires. He wondered if he would ever be able to fill that void in Harry the way Ginny could, but he doubted the possibility in the same way that he doubted whether Harry could ever degrade him the way Ron had earlier that morning.
It was only when they were clearing their plates that Harry and Draco finally had a few seconds alone while the others put away napkins and extra food. Harry smiled at Draco briefly, yet seemed to dance in place as they watched the sink fill. Draco knew immediately that the other boy needed to pee, and it was no surprise really, considering how much he had drunk at the breakfast table.
“Everything alright?” Harry whispered as he dropped his dish into the soapy water filling the sink. Magicked sponges set to work cleaning off bits of food.
Draco wanted to tell him that nothing was alright, that he had wet himself and Ron had made fun of him and he may have cheated on Harry with his best friend in some kind of perverted sexual act, that he was angry at Harry for leaving him alone and spending all of his time with Ginny, that he both hated and loved the way Mrs. Weasley looked at him as if he were damaged. He felt the tears in his eyes, felt a choking in his throat when he thought about how much he wanted Harry to take him back to Grimmauld Place, how much he wanted it to just be the two of them again, where things made sense. He wanted nothing more than to beg Harry to hold him, to kiss him and rub his back and take him away from all these people, but he knew Harry wouldn’t understand.
“Everything’s fine,” he said with a forced smile.
“Good,” Harry said quickly, before reaching down to pinch his crotch as he quickly crossed one leg over the other. “See you later, then.”
Draco watched as he ran to the other side of the kitchen, hooking his arm through Ginny’s to pull her away from the drawer of placemats she was straightening, and leading her quickly upstairs, all the time holding himself. The blonde noticed a small, growing wet spot on Harry’s crotch when the boy turned and winked back at him, half bent-over in desperation as Ginny whispered into his ear and yanked him up the stairs, her face flushed.
Draco sighed at Hermione retreated to the living room to study and Ron left with the twins to play Quidditch outside. He sat at the kitchen table, alone, as he watched the dishes soak.
“You coming?” Ron asked, leaning back into the kitchen and shrugging at Draco with one shoulder.
Draco nodded, grabbing his broom and following Ron out to the backyard, trying not to think about the soreness he still felt over the morning spanking that had been so unwelcome and yet so long overdue.
---
Thanks so much, Wolf. I'm gaining a lot of confidence in my writing thanks to you and the other reviewers, and it really means a lot that you're so supportive! I took a few writing classes in college, and think my professors would probably be shocked to see that this is what I'm doing with all of their lessons, but I do write my own fiction from time to time also, so maybe someday I will write a book. Thanks for always commenting and being generally awesome :D .
Ryoku, I feel so proud of that fact that I might be winning you over towards vulnerable-Draco! Haha I'm with you--it doesn't seem plausible that after his upbringing he'd just be a jerk through and through. I'm glad you liked the last chapter, and hope you got some good rest!!
Thank you, draklink! I knew it would come as a bit of a surprise, but I'm glad it worked for you. it means a lot to get feedback, so thanks so much!
Edited May 27, 2012 by 222foxface222
(see edit history) |
--
Next chapter. No real warnings here, except for the fact that this chapter is insanely long. I was thinking of breaking it up, but, quite honestly, I'm as eager to get back to the Snarry as I know some of you are, and it would have been too short if it was cut in half. Really standard omo in this chapter (of the tied-down-unable-to-get-up-and-going-to-pee-yourself variety), which is always fun to write every once in a while (also, I think it's a welcome change from the almost-emo nature of the past few chapters). Let me know if you're still reading (just a selfish little plea because I'm always in a happy mood when I hear from you guys). Also, I'm almost finished posting the pre-written chapters, so I'll be looking for some ideas for what you guys would like to see next. Hope you're all doing well!
Chapter 19
Harry and Ginny were in her bedroom, spent and out of breath. Harry’s jeans were soaked, wet through the front and down his legs.
“You should probably change out of your wet things,” Ginny said, smiling up at him from her place on the bed.
Harry stood and walked to the window, turning his back to Ginny while he shook his head. He had been so excited and content while he held his pee and wet himself for Ginny, but now that it was over he felt something of a loss, somehow unfulfilled.
“I will in a few minutes,” he said, allowing his hand to wander to his front, where he ran it between his legs to feel the completely saturated material of his jeans. He glanced out the window towards the back yard, where he could watch the other boys playing Quidditch down below. His eyes lingered over Draco’s blur of nearly-white hair, watching as he sped around the back yard and flew next to Ron in order to help him block a forward move by the twins.
“Why don’t you go down and play?” Ginny suggested, coming up behind him to see what he was looking down upon.
Harry shook his head again, watching the way Ron and Draco bent with their heads close together, strategizing as Fred and George did the same on the opposite side of the yard. Time spent at the Burrow usually left Harry with this empty feeling, eventually placing him into a slight depression that was uncharacteristic for him. He disliked feeling moody and sad, as they were states that he had spent years overcoming. And yet, as he stood in Ginny’s bedroom, pants cold and wet down to his knees, watching his best mate and his boyfriend laugh while they played games in the backyard, he could not help but feel that, all his life, he had missed out on something, that he had been denied a real childhood.
And, if he was truthful to himself, a part of him resented Ginny for knowing the exact way to mother him in their games, resented her because if she knew the perfect words to say, it was only because she had heard her mother say them time and time again. He resented Ron for knowing how to bandage wounds and wake him gently from nightmares. He resented Fred and George when they teased Ron for being the youngest boy because they knew all the words to the lullabies they sang to him sarcastically. And, in his darkest thoughts, he resented his parents, for not foreseeing that night when Voldemort came and for letting themselves be killed.
Sighing, Harry twisted from the window and wrapped his arms around Ginny, smiling with a conscious effort. She rested her head on his chest, a sisterly comfort he was grateful for.
“You should go down to the yard,” she said, gently. “I’m sure they’ll let you play.”
Harry nodded, agreeing despite the fact that he mostly just wanted to lay in a dark space somewhere lost in memories and thought. He knew that would be counter-productive, knew he needed to take advantage of his time at the Burrow, because, so far, this was as close to a family as he had been able to get. And, for that, he was grateful.
---
Draco huddled with Ron at the far end of the yard, letting the other boy strategize since he was more familiar with the tactics his brothers would use against them. They were both sweaty and dirty, the game far rougher than any regulation Quidditch game due to the fact that Fred and George were not against throwing all the rules out the window in order to make things a bit more interesting. George was especially fond of luring them down towards the ground before yanking their brooms out from under them. He was usually ready with a cushioning charm to keep you from falling hard to the ground, but every so often he’d miss, and Draco and Ron would tumble to the dirt or the sparsely growing grass. It had become an exciting element of the game, and so neither Draco nor Ron had told him to stop, despite the fact that they were becoming progressively more grimy and covered in dust.
“Fred’s probably going to circle around as a distraction while George comes straight down the middle with the Quaffle,” Ron explained. They had altered the rules of the game in order to account for their two-person teams, but they were no less enthusiastic or competitive.
Draco nodded, catching his breath. They had been playing for nearly two hour now, and he was already starving for lunch, having barely touched his breakfast. He was, however, conscious of a growing need to use the loo, and it was hard to sit still on his broom while Ron dictated the moves they should take throughout the next portion of the game. He couldn’t help but squirm a bit. He knew from experience just how hard it was to hold your pee while riding a broom.
Ron paused in the middle of his speech, raising an eyebrow towards Draco.
“Everything alright?” he asked, half-smirking.
Draco nodded, clearing his throat as he cursed himself for squirming.
“Fine,” he mumbled, staring down at his hands wrapped tightly around his broomstick.
Ron rolled his eyes and flew away from Draco, a few feet towards Fred and George.
“We need a water break,” he yelled. “Meet back here in fifteen minutes.”
Fred and George nodded and flew down to the yard, racing each other inside towards the kitchen after they jumped from their brooms, shoving to be the first one in the door.
“Let’s go,” Ron said to Draco before flying back to the ground and leaving his broom next to his brothers’ in the grass. He waited for the blonde boy with his hands on his hips.
Draco flew down next to Ron, embarrassed that Ron seemed to have figured out his predicament. He dropped his broom on the ground and approached him, mumbling something about how he would wait out in the yard, about how he wasn’t thirsty.
“Don’t be daft,” Ron said, taking Draco by the arm and yanking him inside. “They’d never let you live it down if you peed your pants mid-air.”
He stumbled into the loo after Ron, who turned to lock the door behind them before jumping up to sit on the sink counter, legs dangling. Draco stared at the red-head, cheeks pink as he shifted from foot to foot.
“Go,” Ron said as if Draco were an idiot. “It’s not hard to see you’re about to lose it.”
Draco was about to ask Ron to leave when he felt a spurt of pee soak his briefs. Gasping, he undid his jeans buttons and yanked his pants and briefs down to his thighs, modesty forgotten as he prayed he would not wet himself. He peed forcefully, the relief wonderful as the fear that he would have an accident slowly abated.
“Why the hell did you wait so long?” Ron asked, shoving Draco out of the way when he was done and starting to release his own pent-up pee. “You’d rather wet yourself than ask someone to take you to the loo?”
Draco shrugged as he went to the sink to wash his hands.
“I don’t need someone to take me to the loo,” Draco said. “I’m not a child.”
“You certainly needed someone to take you just now,” Ron said, scoffing. “I’m going to have to watch out for you or you won’t make it next time.”
Ron smirked and washed his hands messily, splashing some water onto Draco and causing a minor water fight that Draco was mortified to find himself taking part in. But the fact of the matter was, it was fun to joke around with Weasley, despite how unrefined his actions may be. And, when Ron opened the door and shoved Draco to the side trying to be the first one out, Draco couldn’t help but laugh and play along, yanking Ron backwards by the arm and trying to squeeze in front of him to beat him to the backyard.
But when they made it out of the bathroom, laughing and teasing, they found Harry standing in front of them, eyes narrowed as he watched them fool around on their way out of the bathroom.
“Hey, Harry,” Ron said, still laughing. “Come to help us crush George and Fred?”
Harry nodded, and Ron yelled that he would race them outside, but Draco could not help but feel Harry’s eyes on him as they rushed outside, questioning just what it was that had occurred between Draco and the youngest Weasley boy in the loo.
---
“The rules of the game are simple,” Fred said, holding a flashlight to his face and speaking in a put-on deep voice to simulate some horror movie masked-murderer.
It was around midnight, and all the lights in the house had been turned out. They had the Burrow to themselves; Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had come home from their errands around dinner time, but had then decided to visit family for the night when they heard Mr. Weasley’s mother was sick. Technically, Hermione was in charge, per Mrs. Weasley’s orders. She was the only one allowed a wand while they were gone, the others having theirs taken away and locked in a drawer that only Hermione knew how to open. Draco had put up a fight and threatened to leave, but Ron snatched his wand out of his hand, tossed it over to his mother, and hissed at him to stop acting like such a baby.
“Each team has twenty minutes to discuss strategy and hide their flag. When the bell rings, the game has started and whichever team captures the others’ first is the winner. Anyone caught out of their home turf by the other team can be put in jail and only rescued if tagged by their own teammate. Got it?”
Everyone nodded, and Draco tried not to grin. He would never admit it, but he was having fun, and had been for the majority of the day. There was something so carefree and welcoming about playing sports and games all day long and into the night, and despite that fact that he was dirty and sun-burnt, he did not want the day to end. He was on the blue team with Ron and Fred, while Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and George were on the yellow team. The girls had refused to be separated, and clung to each other as they giggled about just how dark it was with all the lights out. Apparently even Hermione was immune to the giddiness of a carefree summer’s day. They each had colored strips of fabric tied around their arms to signify their team colors.
After strategy discussions in which Draco spoke little, he and Ron snuck up to the attic to hide their team flag. Fred agreed to guard it for the first shift, his argument being that Ron and Draco were smaller than he was, and harder to catch in the dark. The house was filled with tip-toes and whispered shouts, flashlight beams scattered across rooms in search of friend or foe. Draco and Ron set out together to scope out the lay of the land; Fred had told them to find the location of the other team’s flag and then return to him so they could start planning their means of attack. Despite himself, Draco found that he was almost immediately wrapped up in the secrecy and tension of the game. Before he knew it, he was enjoying himself more than he had in years, sneaking through the house and signalling to Ron when all was clear. They had a close call when Harry skittered across the second floor hallway, but they ducked into a linen closet before he had the chance to see him.
Draco felt Ron’s breath on his neck, felt his body pressed against his. His body tensed when they heard someone pass outside, and he felt a pleasant fullness in his bladder that made him wish he were playing games with Harry in their beds at Grimmauld Place.
“You know there’s always a sleeping draught in the warm milk,” Ron said softly in his ear. “You wouldn’t have been able to wake up even if you wanted to.”
Draco turned his head slightly until he found Ron’s gaze. Was he trying to excuse his actions of the night before? Was he apologizing for talking down to him? Maybe Ron felt guilty about the spanking he had given, about his reaction to Draco’s bedwetting. Or maybe, like Draco, he had just been unable to keep his mind from wandering to the spanking whenever it had a free moment.
“Did she give you some too?” Draco asked, wanting to give Ron the same excuse, to signal to him that all could be forgiven, but Ron rolled his eyes and shoved his way out of the closet.
“Fuck off,” he said before turning down the hallway, leaving Draco confused, unsure as to exactly what it was he had done wrong.
Draco sighed as he pushed the door of the closet open. He knew the fun of the day would come to an end eventually, and in that moment he realized just how much Ron had contributed to his enjoyment of each activity. Now that he was alone, he was self-conscious and edgy. He didn’t want to play anymore. He had to go back to Fred and tell him he was going to bed, that he was tired and had to pee and was sick of running around like daft muggle children. But when he stood out of the closet and started walking towards the staircase to the attic, Ginny shone her flashlight in his face, Hermione not far behind the girl.
“Gotcha!” she said.
“I don’t want to play anymore,” Draco tried to explain. “I’m just going to bed.”
But Ginny and Hermione refused to listen. They dragged him by the wrists downstairs to the living room, where Hermione then shone a flashlight pattern onto the wall and someone shone it back to signal that all was clear. Sitting Draco on the floor, Harry appeared to tie his wrists and waist to the legs of a kitchen chair that had been dragged into the living room.
“Harry, I kind of don’t want to play anymore,” Draco tried as he fought against Harry’s grip on him. “Can you just let me go?”
But Harry wrestled until he had the ropes tied down, until Draco was left with his waist tied to a chair and his arms pinned back.
“Don’t be a cry-baby,” Harry leered, and Draco could smell the alcohol on his breath. Fred had whipped out a bottle for his team as well, and he had shared some with Ron and Draco, but it was clear that Harry hadn’t stopped; he was drunk and intent on nothing except winning the game.
Draco sighed and let his head fall back against the seat of the chair in frustration. He would just have to wait for someone to rescue him, wait for someone to steal a flag and win the game. It couldn’t be that long. Someone would have to break through eventually.
But an hour and a half later there was no progress in the game. Draco had seen Ron’s figure skirting through the kitchen, close to capturing the yellow flag, but he had disappeared through the back door when George came close and almost noticed him. Outside was out of bounds, but by that time everyone except Draco was too drunk to care. Draco’s problems were far worse than not being able to sneak into the living room and distract Harry to capture the flag. His bladder was full, and had been since he was captured and tied down. He had to pee, and bad. It had been getting worse as the time ticked by, but he had waited patiently, not bothering to say anything because he was sure with each minute that someone would come to rescue him or steal the flag to end the game. But he was getting desperate. He thought this may have been the longest time he had been kept from using the loo. He was used to having a bathroom around when he needed it, and he was getting scared that he wouldn’t be able to hold it in.
“Harry?”
“Huh?” Harry had been dozing in front of the jail they had set up.
“Can you let me up? I want to go to bed.” Draco was embarrassed to explain the real reason.
“Of course not,” he said. “You’re not going anywhere.”
Draco sighed.
“Please, Harry. I...I have to go.”
Harry turned to look at Draco, took in his hunched expression, the way his legs were twisted together.
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
His words were a bit slurred, and he stumbled when he stood up to walk closer. Draco had never before seen him drunk, and it did not suit him. He felt distanced from the other boy, whereas only days before he had felt unbelievably close.
“It’s getting really bad,” Draco pleaded. “Just untie me for a minute. I’ll come back straight away, I promise.”
Harry paused, seeming to question the validity of Draco’s request.
“Please,” Draco said through gritted teeth, bringing his knees to his chest as a sharp urge hit him. “Merlin, it’s bad.”
“I don’t think I should let you up,” Harry said. “This is probably all some plan you and Ron hatched. You barely drank anything at dinner.”
“Harry, this isn’t a joke,” Draco said, the anger finding voice. “I fucking have to pee--bad!”
“You can hold it,” Harry said. “Besides, I’m sure Ron will come to take you to the loo and minute now.”
So Harry was still angry from what he had seen earlier, jealous that Ron and Draco had been locked together in the bathroom doing Merlin knows what. Draco felt his stomach clench as he snaked his legs around each other. There was no way he could explain that nothing had happened now, not in the state that Harry was in. But he was more desperate than he could remember. He cringed when a trickle of pee escaped into his underwear.
“I can’t hold it, Harry,” Draco said, surprised at the anger appearing in his voice as he rocked the chair behind him in his efforts to pull himself free. “Let me go. It’s not a fucking joke!”
He thought about calling time, thought about yelling for his teammates to come rescue him, screaming to Hermione, who was more than likely at least relatively sober, that the game had gone too far. Someone had to see reason. He was not about to pee his pants on the Weasley’s living room floor.
A stab of need hit Draco all at once and he doubled over as best he could, his legs shaking with the force of squeezing them so tightly together.
“Oh, fuck fuck fuck, Merlin, fuck!” Draco didn’t try to keep his voice down. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to cry it hurt so bad. He sucked air through his teeth and bit down on his lip in concentration when he felt a spurt warm his briefs.
“Harry, this isn’t funny,” Draco spat. “Let me out!”
If only he had his hands free, he could squeeze at his crotch. He could hold it if only he had a good grip.
“Be quiet,” Harry told him. “You’ll ruin the game and they’ll know where we are.”
“They fucking know where you are! Untie me! I don’t want to play anymore!”
The others had started to hear the shouts. Draco could see figures in the darkness that had crept out to see what was going on. He needed them to understand. The game had to be over.
“I don’t want to play this fucking game anymore! I need--oh, fuck!--to get out!”
His voice was strained with the effort of keeping his pants dry. He couldn’t believe this was happening to him. He couldn’t pee himself; he was seventeen years old. He had to hold it.
“What’s going on?” George asked, coming forward out of the darkness and followed by the others.
“Nothing,” Harry mumbled.
“Game fucking over,” Draco yelled kicking at another chair and knocking it over. “Untie me, now! I can’t--”
He bent his head and tensed his body, mumbling curse words to himself, one leg crossed over the other.
“Get them!” Harry yelled to George, pointing behind him at Fred and Ron, who had just stepped into view.
But the others weren’t as drunk as Harry, and could see the situation in front of them. It was Ron who stepped forward, who rushed and started working on the knots at Draco’s wrists, who yelled for Fred to turn on the light so he could see what he was doing. But it was too late. Draco squirmed and yelled and crossed his legs as hard as he could, but without warning a fast spurt of hot wetness shot into his underwear.
“Fuck, no,” he breathed, yanking one hand free as soon as Ron undid the knot. He hunched over on the floor and squeezed his crotch and kneaded at his dick. “Damn it, Ron, I can’t hold it, I’m gonna--fuck!”
Draco closed his eyes and pressed the heel of his hand between his legs, but there was no stopping the stream of pee wetting his underwear. He was peeing into his pants. He squirmed and grabbed but nothing worked. The wetness spread to his jeans and he began to feel as if he couldn’t breathe. He felt the wetness hot against his skin, felt it stream down his legs and under his ass, saw the yellow liquid seep out from where he sat while he wet his pants and the floor and was left sitting in an acrid puddle of urine while the others watched from the next room. He gained control at last, but was so defeated that all he could do was tense his muscles and force the rest of his pee into his pants, forcing out every last drop until he was sopping wet but, at last, empty.
“Everyone go to bed. Now.”
It was Hermione. She had obviously heard the commotion and came down to see what was going on. Everyone turned and left; they could tell she was angry, that she meant business. Or maybe they were just pleased not to be the one to have to deal with their seventeen-year-old classmate who had just peed himself like a toddler.
“I’m sorry, Dray,” Harry said as he left, his cheeks red with either shame or drunkenness.
Draco did not look up until he heard the steps on the staircase stop. Ron had finished untying him, but still knelt next to him, just out of reach of the wetness, and Hermione stood above them.
“Ron, go to bed,” she told him, but Ron shook his head.
“I’ll get him cleaned up,” he said softly. “We’ll be alright.”
“Draco?” Hermione asked. “Is that what you want?”
Draco didn’t answer, just hung his head and stared at the wetness spread throughout his crotch.
“It’s okay,” Ron assured Hermione. “I’ll take care of it.”
Hermione nodded, squeezed Draco’s shoulder and left them alone. Draco felt sick to his stomach, ashamed with himself; he hated Harry Potter. He never wanted to see him again.
--- |
Thanks for reviewing, guys. I'm planning to go back and respond to your comments tomorrow when I get off of work, but I figured I'd post the next chapter now while I have a few minutes due to some wicked insomnia. There is a bit of Draco/Ron going on (Dron??), as Ryoku and Wolf predicted (Love you both for being on board with pairings even before they happen! http://omorashi.org/public/style_emoticons/default/tongue.png). Harry and Draco will reconcile in the next chapter, and then its back to Grimmauld Place and Harry will need to deal with Snape. I've missed him, so I'm looking forward to him re-entering the story. I know I've been promising him for a while now, but I didn't realize just how long the section at the Burrow really was, so sorry about that, but I promise he's coming.
Take care and enjoy.
Chapter 20
Ron helped Draco upstairs and into his bedroom, half-carrying him because Draco would have been content to sit in the cold puddle of urine all night as punishment for his actions. How had he let himself lose control? How could he have embarrassed himself in front of everyone? He couldn’t go back to Hogwarts; Fred and George and Ginny would tell everyone. He would be a laughing stock.
“Stand here and I’ll help you change,” Ron said when they were alone in the bedroom.
But Draco was beyond caring, scared by the implications of what he had just done. He sunk to the floor as soon as Ron let him go, at the end of the bed that was meant to be for Harry. It was empty, which meant Harry had chosen to spend the night with Ginny. Draco hoped he had a horrible hangover the next morning.
“Enough of that,” Ron said. “Stand up. Do you want me to run a shower for you?”
He tugged on Draco’s forearm until he had pulled him to his feet, but Draco swayed and his knees buckled, so Ron had to support him with an arm around his waist.
“I can’t stay here,” Draco mumbled. “I have to leave.”
“Oh, shut up,” Ron said, rolling his eyes as he tried to force Draco towards the doorway, presumably towards the bathroom across the hall. “Don’t be over-dramatic. It was a fucking accident. There was nothing you could have done.”
He began undressing Draco, unzipping the green sweatshirt he wore over a white t-shirt and stringing it off his arms while still supporting the smaller boy with an arm around his back. But after he had tossed the sweatshirt onto the spare bed and started to work on the boy’s shirt, he looked up to find Draco crying, a hand covering his face in shame.
“Shhh,” Ron said, sighing as he rubbed the other boy’s back. “It’s no big deal. You just had an accident.”
“I hate him,” Draco growled, swiping at his tears. “I never want to see him again.”
Ron sighed, leading Draco to sit down on the cot. He figured it was the safest place considering Draco’s wet pants. Sitting next to the blonde, he put his arm around Draco’s shoulder, unsure of exactly what it was he was supposed to say.
“He was drunk. They all were,” he said, shrugging. “Harry’s a jerk when he’s drunk. It makes up for how nice he is the rest of the time.”
Rolling his eyes, Draco turned away from Ron, shrugging out of his embrace.
“He’s horrible,” Draco spat. “And if your brothers say anything about this I’ll fucking kill him for it.”
“Calm down,” Ron said, less sympathetically than Draco would have liked. “Ma would murder them if they ever said anything. Not to mention, they’d have Harry to deal with...and me.”
Draco glanced up at Ron, who had suddenly become very interested in studying the lines in his palm. He understood at that moment that, somewhere along the way, the youngest Weasley boy may just have stopped resenting him for his friendship with Harry, that he had possibly forgiven him for the years of unpleasantness to which he had subjected him and the other Gryffindors. They had somehow come to a tepid understanding. Maybe someday they would look at this summer years later, and it would almost be comical; Maybe years later they would reminisce over the extent to which their messed up teenaged melodramas had brought them all together.
“He made me wet my pants,” Draco tried, tears threatening to fall once again, but Ron shook his head and held Draco’s chin so he could look him in the eye and scrub off the tear tracks with his thumb.
“You wet your own pants,” He said, holding tight when Draco tried to pull away. “You tried, but you just couldn’t hold it in, could you?”
Draco shook his head.
“I couldn't hold it anymore,” he said.
Ron paused, catching Draco’s eye. They stared at each other in silence, an unspoken peacefullness arousing between them as they ceased to feel uncomfortable in each other’s presence. After a moment, Ron traced the flat of his hand down Draco’s neck and chest and waist until he was cupping the wetness of his crotch. The pee had gone cold.
“Does it itch yet?”
Draco nodded, and let out a tiny moan as Ron touched him through the soaked jeans. He was getting hard.
“Be mean to me,” Draco squeaked through silent tears.
“What?” Ron asked, his hand pausing in its caresses.
“Be mean to me,” he pleaded. “Like this morning.”
Ron nodded after a moment and leaned close until his mouth was next to Draco’s ear.
“You’re a fucking disgrace, you know that?” he said, quietly at first, mocking. “Can’t even hold your pee like a man. You’re pathetic. I can’t even look at you.”
Draco felt himself getting harder as Ron sneered at him, as he whispered into his ear. He leaned into Ron’s touch between his legs, and whined a moan when the Weasley boy pulled his hand away.
“Fucking pee-your-pants little girl,” Ron said, pushing Draco off the cot and down onto his knees. “Bedwetting idiot. No one wants you.”
He could not look at Ron, although he kept one hand between his legs, kneading his cold wet crotch as he hardened at Ron’s tone of voice.
“Hit me,” he pleaded, voice barely a whisper.
Ron swung his hand back and slapped the blonde across the mouth.
“Maybe that will teach you to keep your panties dry and use the toilet like a man. How can you even look at yourself, weakling?”
Ron squirmed slightly and Draco’s eyes widened when the redhead snaked a hand down to hold his own crotch. It seemed the Weasley boy was almost as turned on as Draco, that their shared shame had opened new avenues of arousal for them both.
Ron stood up and shoved Draco backwards. He crashed to the floor with a groan of pleasure, his head slamming against the hardwood floorboards.
“Take off your shirt,” Ron breathed, leaning down over the other boy. “Seventeen years old and not even potty trained.”
Ron watched while Draco pulled the t-shirt over his head. He reached down and grabbed him by the ear, yanking his head up off the floor sharply. He wondered just how far Draco wanted to take this. He would feel guilty were it not for the fact that he knew Draco wanted this, that he needed it. He would feel guilty were it not for the fact that Draco’s eyes were filled with unadulterated lust.
“Stop snivelling. You’re a disgrace.”
Kneeling onto the floor, he straddled Draco’s legs and reached forward to unbutton the boy’s damp jeans.
“You smell like pee,” he sneered.
Draco moaned as Ron squirmed against him, as he pressed his crotch against his. Draco saw that Ron was breathing heavily, that his hands were shaking as he popped open the button of the wet jeans.
“You’re a little momma’s boy who can’t hold his water. You---”
Draco looked up at Ron’s flushed face and tense body. Ron cleared his throat and bent down until his face was close to Draco’s, their stomachs touching.
“You deserve to be punished. I should make you sleep in your pissy panties since you obviously like it so much. I--”
Ron pulled back and bit his bottom lip between his teeth.
“Shit,” he breathed as he ground his hips against Draco. There was no doubt in Draco’s mind; Ron was definitely turned on.
Draco was rock hard and his breathing was ragged, feeling helpless and controlled as Ron degraded him with each carefully worded phrase. He sounded so much like Lucius he struggled against anger, and yet the struggle was half the appeal.
“I want--” he began, but Ron reached forward and slapped him with such force he felt his ear ringing.
“Don’t fucking say a word, pee face. A grown man wetting his pants like a toddler.”
Ron clicked his tongue in disgust and reached to pull the zipper down on Draco’s jeans. He shoved his hand inside, and he squeezed Draco’s crotch, feeling the sopping material of his ruined briefs.
“We’re going to have to--ah!”
Ron bent forward until he was practically lying on Draco, yanking his hand from Draco’s pants to shove it against his own. Draco knew he could stop the game; he just didn’t want to. His hard-on rubbed against the stained briefs and the crotch of Ron’s jeans pressed against him, dry, warm denim that no one had pissed inside.
“Oh, fucking hell,” Ron breathed, and the blonde felt a burst of scorching hot wetness seep through Ron’s pants and down onto Draco’s cold and clammy skin. It took all of Draco’s willpower not to come right that second. Ron had to pee, was in fact already starting to wet himself.
Ron paused, tensed with his hand between his legs, grabbing at his crotch to hold it back, but there was no use. With a moan, Ron started wetting his jeans. Draco was unable to keep from reaching a climax the moment the wetness burst through and streamed from Ron onto his crotch. He came as he watched Ron’s face contorted in shame and relief, as he heard him moan in desperation and fear, as he saw the streaks of urine snake down the dry denim of his spread inner thighs. Moaning, he reached up to wrap his hands around the small of Ron’s back, pulling him completely on top of his body as he pressed his crotch up against Ron’s. He breathed quickly as the boy’s weight pressed him harder into the floor, as their crotches were pressed hard against each other while Ron pissed himself dry and Draco panted in the glow of his orgasm.
“I’m peeing myself,” Ron gasped at last, the final streams of his pee soaking his jeans as he lay his cheek against Draco’s. Almost as soon as he had finished, he was grinding his hips against the other boy, bringing himself to a quick, desperate climax as the warm, sopping fabric rubbed against him..
When they were both spent, they lay catching their breath until Ron rolled off Draco, plucking at his wet pants. Ron’s eyes were glazed as he stared up at the ceiling in contentment. Draco smirked, having seen the look on Harry many times before after they had fooled around back at Grimmauld Place. It was just like Gryffindors to have a trademark optimistic expression reserved exclusively for orgasmic afterglow.
“I should give you a spanking for that,” Draco leered, flopping back onto the ground after having assessed Ron’s demeanor. He stared up at the ceiling as well, a wide smile spread across his face.
“I used to do that all the time when I was a kid,” Ron said, as if he had suddenly remembered a wonderful memory. “But more on purpose than that. I cried every time they tried to toilet train me.”
Draco scoffed a laugh, his mouth twisting in a crooked smile.
“Bad boy,” he said, looking at Ron out of the corner of his eye. “Bad little momma’s boy.”
With an effort, Draco heaved himself up onto one crooked elbow so he could look down at Ron’s dreamy expression. Leaning over, he placed one hand on the other side of Ron to support himself as he bent down to kiss the boy on the mouth.
“I’m not gay,” Ron said, turning away.
Draco shrugged.
“Okay,” he said, before taking Ron’s lips in his own again. Ron reached a hand around Draco’s waist and pulled him on top of him, and their warm and wet crotches once again were resting against each other. Ron was a good kisser; Draco snogged him until they were both exhausted and uncomfortable in their wet jeans.
“Want to get cleaned up?” Ron asked, and Draco nodded. He was relieved that Ron had not shown any embarrassment now that the impassioned moment had passed..
Helping each other to their feet, they quietly raced to the bathroom, where they showered before hurrying back to Ron’s room with towels wrapped around their waists. The bundle of wet clothes had been shoved carelessly into the laundry hamper.
“I don’t have any more clean briefs,” Draco admitted when they were dressing.
“Doesn’t matter,” Ron shrugged. He opened the top drawer of his dresser and, after pausing in what seemed like contemplation, took out two pull-ups.
“My ma tried to make me wear them once,” he said, tossing one across the room to Draco.
“They these things this big?” Draco was shocked, unsure of whether to be embarrassed or excited, angry or pleased.
“Sure,” Ron said, as if it was common knowledge. “Muggle bed-wetting pants.”
Draco’s cheeks flushed. He did not want to ruin the comfortability he had found in Ron’s presence, and yet he knew he could never wear these. What if Harry saw? Or if Lucius found out?
Ron stepped forward, sensing Draco’s concern.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Draco shrugged, unable to look Ron in the face.
“I--I’m not a--I don’t wet the bed,” he stammered.
Ron scoffed.
“What about last night? You were practically swimming.”
“It--doesn’t usually happen,” Draco lied.
Ron seemed to sense Draco’s fear, understood that he could not admit to his problem, no matter how obvious it was. He reached back into the drawer and tossed over a pair of dry briefs to the blonde.
“Suit yourself,” he shrugged, before yanking the pull-up on. He covered them with a pair of cotton shorts before climbing into bed.
Draco dressed in briefs and a t-shirt, too relieved that he did not have to wear a diaper to worry whether or not he had offended Ron by refusing. It was a lost memory, but it was quickly coming back to him, diapers and pull-ups and training pants and then pull-ups again before his parents decided to stop potty-training him and let him figure it all out for himself. His father had hated when his mother kept him in pull-ups on occasions far past his sixth birthday, and had once beat him for wetting it while they were travelling.
He lay on the cot and yanked the blanket from the other bed over himself, wrapping it around his body. There was a chill in the air, but Draco could not tell whether it was real or imagined.
“You know you can just sleep in the other bed,” Ron said. “I don’t think Harry’s planning on making an appearance tonight. He’s so drunk he’ll sleep like the dead.”
“It’s okay,” Draco said, sniffling.
Ron reached over and held his hand.
“It will all be better in the morning,” he said.
Draco nodded and Ron smiled.
“But you better keep that bed dry, you little weakling.”
--- |
Can't sleep, so you guys get an update! Harry and Draco work things out and share some wetting in this chapter. A bit shorter than some of the others, but not by too much. Next up will be the long-promised Snarry scene, which I'm still tweaking a bit, so if you have any last minute ideas for it, let me know. Have a good night, guys, and thanks for reading.
Chapter 21
Draco was unable to sleep, lying awake in the darkened room, listening to the insects outside. There was a mosquito in the room, buzzing around incessantly, and although Ron had fallen asleep long ago, Draco had not been able to quiet his mind enough to feel even slightly fatigued. He lay, staring up at the ceiling, as a strange feeling of concern came over him. He wanted to be near Harry, wanted to talk to him and hold his hand. Any betrayal he had felt over the boy’s actions earlier had dissipated as the night wore on, dissolving into trifles as he spent his night locked in Ron’s bedroom, as he kissed his second Gryffindor goody-two-shoes in the space of a month.
Rather than regretting or resenting what had occurred between he and Ron, Draco was grateful for it, finding a nearly emotionless attachment that revolved around sexual fulfillment far more than emotional dependence. He was aroused by Ron, by the way he sneered and degraded and hit, and yet he did not care for Ron in nearly the same way he cared for Harry. He knew a friendship had formed between he and Ron, one that was stronger than many of the cursory friendships he had forged throughout much of his life, and, while grateful, he had come to realize just what he had found in Harry’s embrace.
He crawled off the cot, biting his tongue as he stubbed his toe so as not to wake Ron. He needed some air, needed to organize his thoughts. He couldn’t very well appear at Harry’s feet and beg him to pay attention to him; he would appear weak and childish. Besides, he was not about to let him off the hook for the way he had treated him earlier that night; drunk or not, he was convinced Harry had been the cause of him wetting himself. And yet, as he wandered down the rickety stairs, stepping lightly so as not to create noise and alert the others that he was awake, he couldn’t help but wish once again that he was alone with Harry, back at Grimmauld Place, setting the table while he watched the other boy cook dinner. The house was quiet, but as he set foot on the ground floor, he noticed that he was not the only one awake; someone was sitting at the kitchen table, hunched over with their hand curled around a cup of tea.
“Couldn’t sleep either?” Draco asked, causing Harry to lift his gaze.
“Headache,” was all Harry mumbled; it was obvious he was already feeling the effects of the alcohol he had consumed earlier.
Draco nodded once before taking a seat at the end of the table, a few seats over from Harry. The dark haired boy looked pitiful, his eyes half-closed from either pain or sleepiness, his face pale. A part of Draco enjoyed seeing him like this, seeing his retribution so clearly depicted. And yet he only allowed himself the pleasure of watching Harry suffer for a moment. He soon stood to wet a cool cloth in the sink, bring it across the kitchen, and drape it across the back of Harry’s neck. Harry moaned and leaned back against Draco’s hand on the nape of his neck, closing his eyes as he felt the pleasant coolness of the cloth.
“You’re amazing,” Harry said, clearly grateful for even the smallest bit of relief.
“Do you feel sick?” Draco asked, but Harry shook his head slowly.
“I feel like my head is being torn apart,” he managed.
Draco knew that his Uncle Snape occasionally suffered from migraines, and had ever since he was a little boy. He had seen first-hand the blinding pain, the debilitating effect of feeling as if your brain were too large for your skull. Taking Harry’s hand in his, he sat next to him and encouraged him to lay his head down on the table. The kindness of Draco, combined with the pain, seemed to be too much for Harry, whose eyebrows came close together as tears began silently falling down his cheeks.
“I was such a jerk to you,” Harry said. “I’m so sorry, Dray.”
Draco was surprised at just how content the use of Harry’s nickname for him could make him feel. Despite the blinding anger he had felt only hours before, he felt as if an entire lifetime had passed, that he no longer looked at himself in the same way he previously had.
“Harry,” Draco said, heart beating as he worried over Harry’s potential reaction. “I sort of...kissed Ron.”
Harry opened his eyes and twisted his head slightly until he could look the blonde in the eye.
“And?”
Draco shrugged.
“And it only made me wish it were you lying on top of me.”
Harry looked at him for a long minute before closing his eyes once again, burying his face in his arms on the table.
“Okay,” he said.
Draco could not help but smirk. Leave it to the Gryffindor Golden Boy to be as laid back and forgiving towards sexual liaisons as he was about nearly everything else. Draco leaned down and kissed Harry on the cheek and the nose and then the forehead, slowly, taking his time with each part of his face. After a time, as Harry began to drift to sleep, Draco led him to stand and encouraged him to try to make it upstairs to bed. Supporting him, he guided Harry up the stairs, hoping the others were deep sleepers; he was unable to keep Harry quiet despite the fact that neither of them were wearing shoes. It took a considerable amount of effort, but eventually Draco succeeded in getting Harry upstairs, where he nudged his way back into Ron’s room and let Harry collapse onto the spare bed. Taking the blanket back from the cot, Draco spread it across Harry before climbing in next to him, wrapping his arms around the boy and humming until he fell completely asleep.
---
Draco woke to the feeling of a warm stream of pee trailing down his thigh. Groaning, he lifted the blankets, still half-asleep as he watched Harry pee his pants, dark wetness quickly spreading throughout the boy’s crotch and down his legs. The stream was forceful enough to appear spurting out from the darkened fabric at times, bubbling up and streaming down his pants and onto the sheets below. Draco crooked his knee as he moved his thigh closer to Harry’s crotch, closing his eyes as the hot urine saturated his pajama pants and coated his skin. He squirmed in place, having to pee himself, willing his bladder to hold on long enough for him to gain the full satisfaction of feeling Harry pee on him.
Harry seemed to pee for long over a minute, the pent-up alcohol finally released from his overtaxed bladder as the dark haired boy seemed to go on sleeping soundly. Draco wriggled and could not help but leak a bit into his briefs, the wetness making him bold enough to stay in bed just a bit longer, to see just how long he could hold it in the face of Harry wetting on him, taunting and teasing him with the wetness spreading on the sheets below them and the slight smile appearing on Harry’s face unconsciously. Draco had yet to see Harry wet his bed accidentally, and it was a sight he prayed he would be allowed to see again in the near future. If this was the result of Harry’s drunk escapades, it may just make up for how nasty his attitude became when he was smashed.
Letting a slight whimper escape, Draco felt more pee dribbling into his dampened underwear. He closed his eyes, pressing his legs together, and very nearly gasped when he felt a hand press up against his crotch. It was Harry, who blinked his eyes open and smirked at Draco, his hand cupping the blonde’s slightly wet crotch and squeezing gently.
“Gotta go?” Harry asked, either oblivious or apathetic towards the fact that he had just wet the bed.
Draco nodded, closing his eyes again as he arched his back in order to press his crotch up against Harry’s hand, grateful for the pressure. He felt small spurts of pee escaping every few moments, but somehow retained little desire to get out of bed and use the loo. He liked the way Harry looked at him, the way he lay in a puddle of cooling pee as if it were the most normal thing in the world. He had missed him; there was no doubt about that.
“I’m sorry for the way I acted,” Harry said quietly. “It was just so strange that you were here at the Weasley’s. And I wanted to spend time with you, but I knew Ron would feel jealous, and Ginny...”
“Shh,” Draco nearly moaned. “Don’t talk, please.”
He closed his eyes and lifted one thigh up over Harry’s waist, moving closer to him as he shoved his groin into the boy’s large hand, begging him to hold him, to keep the pee from escaping. He didn’t want Harry to talk, didn’t want to be brought back to the reality of the everyday. He wanted to remain within the dreamlike state between sleep and awake, where no one had to answer for just how nice it felt to let yourself soak your pants and sheets and mattress.
He groaned as a long jet of pee was released, relief so close and yet so confusing. But he pushed aside any thoughts of shame as he crossed his arms to his chest and leaned against Harry’s chest, letting the larger boy wrap his arms around his back as he squirmed against him, humping his waist to keep the pee from escaping. Harry pressed between his legs, moaning gently each time a fresh trickle or spurt of liquid could be felt against his hand. He lifted his face and found Draco’s lips, relieved to have met with the closeness of his boyfriend once again. They kissed until Draco whined from the pressure, until he furrowed his eyebrows and scrunched up his eyes and started breathing quickly, they kissed until Draco began to wet himself uncontrollably, until the urine burst into his briefs without warning and he arched his back and relaxed his bladder, hoping the stream of pee coating his crotch and his legs and the hip he was lying on as it met the puddle of liquid already beneath them would never finish.
“Merlin, did I miss you,” Harry mumbled, smiling as he sucked on Draco’s earlobe and kissed his neck.
Draco panted as his stream of pee trickled to nothing, panted because Harry had not let go of his crotch, because he could feel pressure of another kind building as his large hand pressed against him. He opened his eyes reluctantly, but was comforted by the warmth he found in Harry’s gaze. The Gryffindor cocked an eyebrow and then bent his neck as he lifted the sheets, surveying the damage done to the mattress.
“Didn’t know one person could pee that much,” he teased, unable to keep the grin from his face.
“Fuck off,” Draco joked, laughing quietly. “You’re the one who wet the bed first. And you didn’t even wake up.”
“Who, me?” Harry asked, playing innocent. “Nah, I would never do something like that.”
Draco rolled his eyes and hit Harry on the chest with the back of his hand. Harry caught him by the wrist and reached a hand down to run up and down the blonde’s torso, tickling him until he was squirming in the wet bed, gasping for air as he begged him to stop.
“Oy, mates,” Ron groaned from his bed, voice husky from sleep. “Get a room and let us poor souls get some sleep.”
Harry raised his eyebrows at Draco before he jumped out from under the sheets and climbed over the cot between the two beds in order to jump into Ron’s, reaching below the blankets to tickle him. The youngest Weasley boy swore up and down as Harry tickled him, and yet his shouts of threatening words eventually gave way to giggles as he became helpless to Harry’s torture. Draco couldn’t help but stare when the blankets were kicked off the bed, revealing Ron wearing only a t-shirt and a wet pull-up, and he went to pull Harry off of the redhead because he wanted to get a closer look.
“You’ve had your fun,” Ron said, out of breath as he yanked a pillow over his head and curled his knees up to his chest. “Now, let me get some sleep.”
“Okay, okay,” Harry laughed, draping an arm around Draco’s shoulders as he led him back to their own bed. They climbed back in despite the fact that they were both nearly soaked from head to toe after rolling around, tickling each other in the puddle of pee. Harry guided Draco’s head down onto his chest, and bent down to kiss the top of his head.
“Harry?” Draco asked after they had been silent for a few moments.
“Hm?” Harry asked, leaning down to find Draco’s head craned up towards his.
“Can we go home now?”
Harry smiled and rubbed Draco’s back, resting his chin on the top of the boy’s head.
“Sure, Dray,” he said simply. “I’d like that.”
---
Edited June 4, 2012 by 222foxface222
(see edit history) |
Sorry for the long wait, everyone! Here is part 1 of the Snarry section. I meant to get right into the Snarry fun, but couldn't help but place the scene a bit first, and provide a bit more background for Snape. I wasn't sure his motivation/willingness to take part in some...games...with Harry would be clear enough without this first section. I promise the next chapter will be full on Snarry omo, so get ready! I also hope to post it within a day or two, considering how long I've made you wait for this one (much longer than just a few days since I've last posted, because I know I've been teasing this chapter FOREVER). Anyway, thanks for bearing with me and indulging me. Hopefully this chapter is almost as hot as the next one will be!
Chapter 22
Severus Snape was pacing back and forth along the length of his office in the dungeons. He had responded four days ago to his nephew’s request, the request asking for more time in which to make a decision regarding his residence for the rest of the summer, but had yet to hear back from the boy. He half expected the boy to appear unannounced at any moment, fuming in anger matching that which he had shown storming down the hallways the last time they had met.
Snape was conflicted over the actions he knew he needed to take regarding the boys. On one hand, he had never seen his nephew as worked up and passionate as he had been after he had warned him he needed to forget Potter or tell his father what he had truly been up to all summer. He appreciated the friendship Draco seemed to have found, and while he was not thrilled by the fact that he knew far more of his nephew’s sexual life than he had ever wanted to, he knew the boy deserved a bit of happiness, and was loathe to take that away. On the other hand, he was risking his own life by hiding what would seem to be a fortuitous development from Voldemort and the other Death Eaters, not the least of which was Draco’s own father. If the relationship came to light, Snape’s loyalty would be greatly questioned, and it was a given that, even if he were not killed, he would no longer be allowed within hearing distance of any of the Dark Lord’s plans, thus ruining his ability to aid Dumbledore in protecting Potter. On top of it all, if Voldemort did not murder Draco for befriending the Boy-Who-Lived, Lucius most certainly would. There was no question about it; Draco needed to put an end to his friendship with Potter.
Cracking his knuckles absentmindedly, Snape paused in his pacing and attempted to plan out what he would say to his nephew. He had given him until today to make up his mind, and knew he should expect the boy sometime that day. However, it was still early, the sun having just risen. Snape had not been able to sleep, and he was not looking forward to a day spent in anticipation of his nephew’s arrival. Sighing, he walked purposefully towards the storage closet and took out the pensieve that had last been used to display the boys’ most painfully embarrassing moments. He had another purpose for it today, and he spelled his doors locked as he settled behind it at his desk. There were few in the building besides a handful of professors who had yet to depart for their summer homes, but Snape knew he could never be too careful.
Unlocking the lowest, smallest drawer on the left side of his desk,, he yanked up the false cardboard bottom, revealing ordered rows of colorful vials. These were his most secret memories, most of the substances deep blues and greens among the occasional red. The drawer mainly held memories of each gathering of the Death Eaters, memories detailed enough to include exact speeches made by Voldemort himself as well as detailed debates over the proper ways in which to exact his revenge on Harry Potter. He was so in the habit of storing away each of these memories that he had taken to preserving each meeting of the Order of the Phoenix as well, and he supposed the collection as a whole would be extremely valuable were it to fall into the hands of the opposite group.
Far in the back of the drawer, next to a few stray vials tinged a soft yellow that were all that remained of Lily Potter, he glanced over four or five orange vials. It was one of the brightest orange vials that he removed from its place in the straight line, running his fingers over the coded title etched neatly into the side of the glass. He had ensured that no one would be able to decipher his system of labeling, and yet he knew without a second glance that this was the memory he was looking for, that this memory had been at the back of his mind for over a week now, that this was the memory he had not been able to forget, although it had been years since he had last taken it from the drawer. He knew without a second glance that the orange vials contained his memories of Sirius Black, and that this memory in particular would allow him to escape his concern over Draco for at least a few moments.
He uncorked the vial and let the memory settle down into the stone basin, placing his hands flat against the cool wood of the desk as he leaned forward, grateful for the ability to escape into the past. The moment before he slipped into the memory, he felt a taunting twinge in his bladder; he hadn’t used the loo since before dinner the day before, and the pressure was pleasing to him, comforting in an ironic way, especially in light of the memory he was about to see...
He was tied to a chair, Sirius Black pacing around him slowly, glancing down at him every so often, his hands clasped behind his back. Severus was dressed in his pajamas, his face still lined from the impressions of his pillow. He had been dragged from his dorm room in the middle of the night only moments before, blindfolded and gagged to keep him from screaming out. And yet, despite the cold fear that had settled within him, deep down he was sure it could be none other than one especially troublesome Gryffindor. He kept up the charade of defiance for good measure, although he knew he had been waiting for this ever since the day he had peed himself in the train car of the Hogwarts Express.
“Let me out, Black,” he said because he knew what was expected of him, knew the thing Sirius wanted possibly as badly as Severus himself did. His voice was raspy from sleep, and he still felt as if he had not properly woken up.
Sirius didn’t answer, simply continuing his trek around the chair. They were in the middle of the room of requirement, which seemed to have changed into little more than some kind of bedroom. It was a bedroom not unlike those Severus had seen in the few muggle movies he had watched, bedrooms of teenage boys complete with sports trophies, muggle text books for subjects such as Geometry or Biology, and posters of movie stars. He wondered idly why the room had brought them to such a place, and yet he knew without a doubt that such a stereotypically non-wizard surrounding seemed to give him and Black permission to possibly act a bit outside of their character. He felt as if he were immune to the rules of Hogwarts or the wizarding community, and could only assume that the Room of Requirement had guessed that would be the case for both boys.
“I thought I told you to stay clear of Lily,” Sirius spat after they had remained in silence for a moment longer.
“I have,” Severus said, weakly.
They both knew Lily was the farthest thing from their minds at the moment, but the game had to be carried out; neither was about to explain their true desires without remaining under the shadow of some supposed ulterior motive. Sirius needed a reason to tie Severus up without telling him he had not been able to stop thinking of the day he had watched him wet his robes.
“You’ve got a pretty pee-poor way of showing it,” the curly-haired boy said, obviously making a conscious effort to place animosity in his voice.
Severus knew that was his cue to squirm just a bit. He was glad he hadn’t pissed before bed; he had taken to filling up on juice or water at dinner under the pretense of keeping well hydrated. In actuality, he enjoyed the feel of a full bladder as he lay in bed before falling asleep, imagining just what it would be like were he to be taken from his bed and tied up in just the way he was now. Somehow, without speaking, the boys had been prepared for this night longer than either would care to admit.
“Sit still,” Sirius ordered, pausing to look Severus up and down. “I told you there would be consequences were you to keep following Lily around like a pathetic love-sick dog.”
Severus nodded, choosing not to remind Sirius that those threatened consequences involved James Potter rather than Sirius himself. He swore under his breath as the ropes dug into his lower belly, cutting across his bladder, voice just loud enough to ensure Sirius would hear.
“Something the matter, Snapey?”
Sirius was teasing him, the corner of his mouth curled upward as he narrowed his eyes, surveying him. He knew all too well what the matter was; Severus could see the evidence of the boy’s knowledge stirring in his thin Gryffindor pajama pants.
“Fuck off, Black,” Severus tried, but the hatred did not come easily.
Sirius glared at him, taking menacing steps closer and raising a hand as if he were about to strike him.
“Say that again and you’ll regret it,” the boy warned, ready to strike.
Severus swallowed.
“I said fuck off, Black.”
He couldn’t help but close his eyes as he prepared himself for a smack, but the sting of the other boy’s hand did not come. Instead, he felt the boy’s strong lips pressed against his own, felt himself open his mouth to taste the other boy, felt himself squirming against the ropes to get closer to the Gryffindor’s presence.
Sirius had both his hands along Severus’ jaw, guiding his head roughly towards him, stabilizing the boy’s head to give himself the best angle to snog him. At some point, Sirius straddled Severus’ chair and set himself down on top of the Slytherin, sitting in his lap, chest to chest as they kissed. Severus squirmed beneath the boy’s muscled thighs, wanting to feel his bladder pulsing beneath him, wanting to feel the desperation he knew was only a few moments away.
But as he clenched his muscles and humped the chair in his arousal, he began to become aware of a scalding warmth spreading throughout his crotch. Looking up as the other boy’s lips were pulled from his, he saw Sirius, head thrown back and eyes closed, breathing heavily as he arched his back. Glancing down, he saw the darkness spreading from the boy’s pajamas down onto his own, fast rivulets trickling along the fabric to meet between Severus’ own legs.
“You’re fucking wetting yourself,” Severus breathed, unsure whether he was meant to act disgusted or turned on.
“Don’t talk,” Sirius mumbled, squeezing his legs tight around Severus’ outer thighs as he reached down a hand to fondle his crotch, often manhandling Severus’ as well. The pee streamed through his fingers and he panted, dropping his head down once more to kiss Severus.
Severus kissed him back, more aware than ever of the pressure in his own bladder as well as the stiffness making itself known despite his need. The feeling of the hot saturated fabric between his legs, plastered to his thighs, was doing nothing to alleviate the need for a pee except making him hard enough to hold it back a bit longer. He longed to let his pee join the other boy's, yet he knew somehow that he was not to be given the same freedom in release as Black had given himself. He couldn’t help but moan as Sirius finished peeing, his hard-on pressing against his briefs, painful and yet lessening as a wave of desperation made him feel as if he were about to lose it any second.
“Black,” he warned, pulling out of the kiss in order to concentrate.
“Gotta wee?” Sirius asked, moving his hand slowly down Severus’ chest to rest in the boy’s wet crotch. He smirked at him, a crooked smile that was as menacing as it was seductive.
Severus nodded, swallowing, unable to speak. He felt a tiny jet of pee escape into his briefs and could not help but swear under his breath, his voice tense as he struggled to keep himself in control.
“If you go in your pants I’ll tell Lily first thing tomorrow morning,” Sirius said close to the other boy’s ear, causing Severus to gasp as he jammed his hand between the Slytherin’s legs and squeezed his crotch. “You better hold it.”
But Severus was too aroused to care, too desperate to think. Smirking right back at the cheekiness of the Gryffindor, he felt himself losing control, realizing a fast, powerful stream of pee was beginning to pour into his pajama pants and thus into Sirius’ grasping hand. Rather than scold him, Sirius kneaded and pressed against the boy’s crotch, playing with the stream of urine as he moaned and frotted his hips back and forth in Severus’ lap. Severus’ eyes fluttered closed as he groaned in the ecstasy of release, conscious of the tight, painful ropes keeping his hands from being allowed to touch himself. He relaxed completely, feeling the pee pool in the chair beneath him, coating him in warm urine and trailing down his legs or streaming directly from the seat of the chair onto the carpeted floor.
When finished, the boys sat in the chair, Sirius still rocking gently back and forth, grinding his hips against Severus, who had come almost immediately after he had finished wetting, the stimulation of Sirius’ hands and hips too much for him to take.
“I told you not to do that,” Sirius said, raising his eyebrows slightly.
Severus shrugged, letting his head fall back as he caught his breath, his cheeks flushed from exertion. “Couldn’t help it,” he explained.
Sirius grabbed his head roughly and kissed him again, lips moving from the boy’s face to his neck and ears and even partly down his chest. His hands reached behind the chair as he kissed him, untying the knots with a quick tug to allow Severus the freedom to put a hand down his pants and finally touch his sopping wet briefs, to finally rest his palms against Sirius’ frotting hips and pull him down onto his crotch once more...
Snape fell back into the chair of his office with a moan both appreciative and desperate. The memory was just as good as he had always believed, and yet he was always left with the need for more, the longing for the feel of Black’s tight forearms, his slim hips. He hadn’t appreciated Black while he had been alive nearly as much as he should have. He gathered the memory back into its vial with a sigh and placed it in its spot within the drawer, kicking the drawer closed. It had been a bad idea to relive the memory; all it had left him with was a sadness and a raging hard-on.
He carried the pensieve back to its place on the shelf, realizing just why they were advised against for most wizards; it was far too easy to live in the past, to become obsessed with what had once been. Sirius really had told Lily the next morning, making it seem as if he had come across the boy desperate to pee and had witnessed him not making it, and she had come to ask Severus about it later that day, concerned for him. He had been embarrassed beyond measure, and yet, as angry as he had been at Sirius, he knew the boy's actions had served a purpose, for it was only a week later that Severus had snuck into the Gryffindor dorms and, after drugging Sirius, had dragged him to the Room of Requirement, where they had played their little games by his rules. But there was no use dwelling on what could no longer be, and rather than cheer him up, the memory had depressed him quite a bit, had filled him with an exasperated anger.
He whipped his head around as he heard a knock on the door, ready to display his temper to whomever had chosen this moment to disturb him. He did not want visitors, but the one positive element of his frustration seemed to be that he was finally ready to face his nephew; the relationship between Draco and Potter was sure to lead to confusion and unresolved ends in the same way his relationship with Black had ended. He no longer had any qualms about forcing the boys apart; indeed, he thought he might just find a way to enjoy it.
Standing to his full height, he threw the door open and glared down at what he expected to be his blonde, pointed nephew. Instead, he found himself staring down at Harry Potter's mess of black hair. The boy was hunched over on his threshold, head down and feet close together. After a moment, the boy straightened a bit and glanced up at him with round, glassy eyes; if Snape wasn’t already fully aroused from the memories he had just relived of Sirius Black, the sight of the boy’s concerned look and his hand pressed down onto the front of his jeans ensured that he was almost too hard to function.
“Please, Professor,” Potter breathed. “I was in Hogsmede and I realized I really gotta go. I don’t think I can hold it anymore!”
Snape nearly groaned out loud, but managed to hide his arousal with little more than a quick flare of the nostrils. The boy looked just like his imp of a brazen godfather when he was so needy and desperate, dangerously close to wetting himself. And yet, he knew the boy had not come to him to use the loo. After all, there were no less than five bathrooms between the entrance of the school and the dungeons. Potter could have stopped at any one of them. No, the boy had come for something else, and Snape, grabbing the boy by the upper arm and yanking him into the office before locking the door and casting silencing charms, was intent on finding out just what the Gryffindor Golden Boy’s purpose truly was.
---
Edited June 11, 2012 by 222foxface222
(see edit history) |
So sorry for the wait! I've been working double shifts this week, so no time to write. Thanks for the feedback, Ryoku and Wolf--you guys are the best and I was definitely thinking of you when I wrote this chapter! Hopefully the Snarry lives up to your expectations--I must say, it's a bit more graphic than I first expected, so warnings if you're not into mentions of more than just omo! And, Wolf, to answer your question, yes, I am now writing these chapters currently. I have more chapters of this story from the first time writing it, but as I've said before it veered off into a totally different direction last time, so now I'm writing new ones to keep up the current story lines. I recently found a Draco/Snape short fanfiction that I wrote a while ago, and I think I may post that one for you guys tomorrow as an apology for taking so long to update this one, lately! Anyway, look out for a new post from me, and here's the next Chapter--really long, but, honestly, once the Snarry gets going, who wants it to stop? http://omorashi.org/public/style_emoticons/default/tongue.png
Chapter 23
Harry closed his eyes tight as he was dragged into Snape’s office by his arm. He pressed his legs together, the jolt of movement causing him to feel a jet of wetness escape, soaking into his briefs. It was rare that he was quite this desperate. Normally he only held his pee until it was mildly uncomfortable, and he would then use the loo or, if he was in bed, wet his pants. Even on the days he planned to wet himself, like the past few days he had spent with Ginny, he was rarely unable to hold on until he actually lost control completely. He generally let himself go and simply put on the act of having an accident; his bladder was far too strong at this point, and he could rarely get to the point of intense, true desperation. But he knew he was close at the moment. He had made sure of that, knowing it was the only way he could ensure he would actually go through with his plan in regards to his Potions Professor. He needed the decision to be taken out of his hands, otherwise he would more than likely abandon the plan in favor of not disgracing himself in front of his most hated and yet most desirable teacher.
He hadn’t pissed since after dinner the day before, having resisted the urge to pee in the bed when his bladder had woken him in the middle of the night. It had been tempting, considering it was he and Draco’s first night back at Grimmauld Place and he wanted to have some fun, but he knew he had to save himself if he were to pull off what he had been planning. Draco had been nagging him to give him an idea of the plan he had formed, but Harry hadn’t been able to speak to him about Snape or his plans to show up at his office bursting for the loo. He was unsure whether he was too embarrassed or too excited to speak of his intended actions to Draco, and had simply promised him he was taking care of the situation, that they would no longer need to worry that the blonde’s Uncle Severus would rat them out to Lucius or Dumbledore.
He had waited outside Snape’s office for nearly forty-five minutes before knocking, building up the nerve as he drank from a water bottle which was magicked to refill itself. He hadn’t wanted to get too desperate while he wandered around Hogsmede, still a bit nervous about public wettings since the day after the movies when Draco had been ashamed of his accident, and so had snuck into Hogwarts early, retreating to the Gryffindor Common Room to bide his time while his bladder nagged. When he found himself unable to stand still or keep from pressing the front of his jeans every few minutes, he worked his way down to the dungeons, standing outside Snape’s office and praying to every god he knew that no one would walk by and see him squirming like a little boy. The last thing he needed was to be detained and kept from his mission, although he would have welcomed some sort of distraction.
His heart was beating quickly as he felt the time approaching. Sooner or later he would need to knock on Snape’s door and hope he had been right about the Professor’s interests. He felt ready to pee himself at the very thought of Snape glaring down at him, raising an eyebrow as he opened the door to find him helpless on his doorstep. But, at the same time, the thought left him breathless with anticipation, and he only wished Draco was there to join in the fun as well.
Dropping the water bottle to the ground and standing stock still, his thighs pressed together with every muscle he possessed, he reached up and knocked on the office door. It was thrown open a moment later, and Harry was ready. He clutched at his crotch and put on his most helpless expression, begging Snape to let him inside so he wouldn’t wet himself. He had expected Snape to sneer, or laugh in his face. He hadn’t expected the man would drag him inside by the arm and nearly throw him against the desk.
---
“What is the meaning of this, Mr. Potter?” Snape sneered, standing close as Harry found himself pressed against the desk, nearly leaning back onto it.
Snape caught himself and stepped away from Harry, beginning to pace back and forth in front of his deak. The boy looked too much like Sirius, his hair falling into his eyes as his mouth opened, breathing heavily in need. It seemed to him that the roles had been reversed, that this time he had the chance to dominate Sirius, to put him in his place in a way he had never been able to while the man was still alive. The years Black had been in Azkaban had been hard on Snape, and he had not been able to keep his mind from envisioning the man tied up, snivelling on the floor of his cell, put into a state Snape had always longed to facilitate in their games with each other. But it had never come to that. Although Sirius had given him many hints that he would be okay with a switch in their roles, that he would gladly enjoy being the one tied up or locked in a closet or held down, Snape had never taken the first move, worried that somehow he would do something wrong, that he would not be strong enough or forceful enough.
If only he had known how easy it truly was to be the disciplinarian, how enjoyable, he would have gladly given in to Sirius’ desires. But by the time Severus had realized this, by the time he had been hired by Dumbledore and established himself as the least forgiving Professor at Hogwarts, Sirius was in jail, too far away to witness Snape’s transformation from mousy teenager to no-nonsense authority figure. But here was a chance for Snape to have what he had always wanted, a chance to prove just how strong he truly was. And yet, this was not Sirius. The boy had a far too serious demeanor to truly pass as Sirius, and none of his tall, awkward lankiness that had become so familiar to Severus.
“Sit down,” Snape demanded, nodding towards the wooden chair in front of the boy.
Potter obeyed, but not without squirming around the moment he sat down, one knee jiggling up and down as his hands pressed down against his thighs. It was obvious the boy was doing all he could to keep from grabbing his crotch like a child, his face strained and his body tense from the effort. But Snape knew this was just what the boy wanted, that he had come with one purpose in mind. It was simply fortuitous that Snape had been waiting for this exact same moment, that he had woken up only days before from his first wet dream since he had been a aroused, sex-deprived sixteen year old with visions of Potter still in his mind.
“I’m--I’m sorry, sir,” Harry mumbled, glancing up. Snape knew the concern in the boy’s voice was more than likely no longer an act, that he truly was moments away from soiling himself. He watched intently as the boy’s eyes widened before he beared down and squeezed his crotch once again. “I d-didn’t --shit! --didn’t know where else to go.”
“Language, Mr. Potter,” Snape drawled, standing behind his desk with his palms flat against old papers and opened books, looming over the boy. He looked small and helpless, squirming in the large, wooden chair.
They both knew Harry’s explanation was a lie, that there were plenty of places within Hogsmede he could have found a loo as well as numerous loos within the Hogwarts hallways throughout the path he had obviously taken to the dungeons. And if he had truly been unable to find a toilet, they both knew he would have flooed home at the first sign of a fireplace. But, for Snape, the obvious attempt to simulate a desperate situation only aroused him more; it was somehow endearing and immensely attractive that the boy had taken the trouble to keep the encounter from appearing too casual, too welcomed.
“It seems you have still not learned the proper way to keep your bladder under your own control, Mr. Potter,” Snape sneered, acting disgusted despite the hitch he could not keep from his voice. “You’re still the pathetically frightened first year soiling himself in my detention.”
Harry looked up at that, possibly surprised that Snape remembered the memory. It had not been a sexual experience for Snape, considering the age of Harry at the time and the obvious distress the boy had been in. But that did not mean he couldn’t tease the boy with the memory, couldn’t recall earlier times in order to shame him, to taunt him and condescend to him.
“Please, Professor Snape, I need the loo.”
Snape shook his head as he took a seat behind his desk.
“I believe we have matters to discuss,” he said. “Unresolved issues that require your input.”
“S-sir?” Harry asked, finally able to take his hand out from between his leg. Snape nearly groaned when he noticed a tiny spot of wetness on the fly of the boy’s jeans. Harry seemed to follow his gaze, and reddened before throwing his hand back on top of the wetness, trying to casually hide it from the man.
“Mr. Malfoy can no longer remain under your roof,” he said in a breath, down to business.
“He’s not leaving! He--” Harry paused and hunched over, his fingers closing down around his crotch, his lips pressed tightly together.
“Do stop carrying on,” Snape said, raising his voice over Potter’s. “You’re making a fool of yourself, Mr. Potter, and the vulgar touching needs to stop immediately.”
“I-I can’t help it. I'm about to wet myself!”
Snape slammed his hand against the desk, causing the boy to jump.
“I doubt that very much, Mr. Potter. You are seventeen years old, and can handle a bit of discomfort. Now, cease your inane prattling.”
He placed a hand as causally into his lap as he could, no longer able to resist stroking his own crotch, his hardened state making it hard to concentrate. The fullness of his own bladder kept him nearly light-headed, and he voluntarily released a small stream of pee into his robes with a shudder. He stopped immediately, still in control of his body in a way Potter obviously was not.
“Mr. Malfoy can no longer remain under your roof,” Snape repeated. “The possible ramifications of your little tryst are far too great to risk, and I expect you to be cooperative in ending the relationship. I’ve expressed this to him, and expect him to come stay with me for the remainder of the summer.”
Harry shook his head, both hands now between his legs as his knees bounced up and down.
“He--he needs more time,” he stammered, bearing down as he hunched over once again. “He--oh, Merlin--he has to decide what’s b-best for him.”
“Sit up straight, Mr. Potter,” Snape snapped, standing from his chair as if prepared to discipline the boy. “I expect you to look me in the eye when I’m speaking to you.”
“Please, Professor, can I go to the loo?”
“I am sure you can,” Snape leered. “But you may not. You should have taken care of the need before arriving at my office unannounced.”
Harry whimpered, biting his bottom lip. Despite his desperation, he could not help but imagine the tall, dark man without his shirt on, could not help but wonder what it would be like to be yanked over the man’s lap and spanked, or to be pressed up against him, held close as he pissed all over both of them. He whined as another spurt of pee escaped, glancing up at Snape, pleading with him, his eyebrows concerned.
“I can’t hold it much longer, Professor Snape,” Harry said quietly, his cheeks blazing. The boy looked close to tears, more than likely turned on beyond meas presure and yet still unaware as to whether Snape were enjoying this or not. Snape knew he was not only desperate to pee, but desperate to wet hard and fast into his jeans and underwear, to soak himself in Snape’s presence.
“Please, sir,” Harry begged, tears finally springing to his eyes as it must have become painful to hold himself as the pressure became almost unbearable. “Please, I’m about to...oh, fuck--fuck, please!”
Snape sat back down hard and drew his hand to his crotch, imagining another spurt of pee, longer this time, soaking the boy’s briefs and trickling through to his jeans, clutched beneath his hands. Envisioning the feel of the boy’s heart beating as he moaned, he saw when the boy managed to stop the leak, but he knew there would be a wet spot on Harry’s pants that would betray him.
“Oh, shit, I can’t--”
“Mr. Potter, I will not tolerate that language in my office,” Snape warned, standing once again from his chair and looming over Harry, gaining a closer look. “Take your hands off of yourself this instant. You are not a filthy animal!”
“I can’t hold it,” Harry whimpered. “I need to wee.”
Snape nearly collapsed against his desk, his knees going out from under him as his mouth opened. Harry panted and Snape became fully aroused, recognizing Sirius’ debauched passion and Lily’s sincere innocence in the boy’s eyes, a combination he realized was hotter than anything he had ever before fantasized about. It caught him off-guard, and he barely recognized his deep, husky voice when he next spoke.
“Stand up. Come here.”
It was an order, but unlike the ones he had been giving before. The charade of disrespectful student and domineering Professor was over; neither wanted to pretend any longer. Harry hurried behind the desk, where Snape immediately placed a hand over Harry’s stomach, feeling his full bladder. Harry moaned, felt more wetness stream into his pants, and shot his hands to his crotch.
“I’m about to pee,” he warned, tears falling as he continued squeezing himself non-stop. “It’s bad. I can’t hold it!”
Without a word, Snape yanked Harry’s hands away from his crotch, causing the boy to double over, moaning and scissoring his legs as he tried to pull his wrists from his Professor’s grasp.
“You’re already wetting yourself,” Snape sneered, a scoff sounding from the back of his throat. “You’re already going in your jeans. You wouldn’t make it to the loo if you tried.”
Sitting down onto the chair, he yanked the boy down onto his lap, holding him sideways so he could still watch the boy’s grasping, desperate fingers return to squeeze around his groin.
“Oh Merlin, oh fuck,” Harry chanted as they both watched a stream of pee snake down past his hands onto his leg, hot and fast. Snape could sense that the boy wanted to let go, wanted to be given permission to soak himself. He was moving around non-stop, trying to get free. “I’m losing it.”
Snape pulled Harry closer towards him, his own erection stimulated by the weight of the boy’s squirming body. Taking a breath, he plunged his own hand between the boy’s legs, holding his hand over Harry’s and squeezing tightly. The boy pressed his thighs together tightly around the two sets of hands, closing his eyes and throwing his head back as he whimpered and cried, begging Snape to let him go.
“What would the others think?” Snape said, his voice little more than a husky whisper in Harry’s ear. “The Boy-Who-Lived wetting his pants nearly steps from the loo? How disgraceful.”
Harry nearly screamed as the pressure grew, leaning forward and humping his professor’s hand, needing the pressure to keep in his pee. But with a sinking dread, he felt a hot wetness against his hand, and knew his bladder had released, that he was going pee in his jeans.
“No!” he moaned, pinching himself until it burned. “I can’t...I won’t...I...”
“Don’t you dare soil yourself, Potter!” Snape bucked up against the boy’s thighs as they jiggled on his lap. “Don’t you dare pee your trousers!”
But Harry no longer had any control, and despite reaching a hand inside his jeans to hold himself through his completely soaked, yellowed briefs, the stream of fast, hot pee would not relent. His thighs became wet as the urine streamed out of him, soaking his crotch and snaking down around to his ass, where he knew he would wet his Professor’s lap.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s fucking bad,” Harry moaned. “I’m wetting! I’m doing it in my pants!”
Snape groaned, nearly screaming out when the first sign of hot wetness soaked through his robes and down into his lap. He wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist and pressed the boy down against him as he could no longer take the pressure. Forcing his spare hand beneath the boy, he rubbed himself through his sopping robes, panting heavily as he watched the boy’s pee spread and heard it splatter onto the floor beneath them. And, as soon as he touched himself, he was so close to an intense, disorienting climax, aware of nothing but the wetness streaming through the boy’s jeans onto the back of his wrist and down onto his crotch, of the pressure of the boy’s body against his own, of the tiny whimpers escaping from the back of Harry Potter’s throat as he disgraced himself fully and completely.
“I can’t stop,” Harry sniffed, his cheeks flushed and his face a mess of tears. “Fuck, fuck, don’t tell anyone, please!”
And with that, Snape shuddered and lost complete control of his body, reaching an orgasam so debilitating he did not at first notice he was releasing the long pent-up pee he had been toying with all day. He cried out in relief as he realized it was streaming out of him and soaking into his robes, adding a torrent of hot pee to the liquid already released by Potter, pooling in the chair beneath him with such force that it almost immediately was too much, and thick streams splattered from the edges of the chair directly onto the stone floor.
The boy was barely breathing, his hand still between his legs. He looked up at Snape when he felt the extra wetness, when he realized what was occurring beneath him, and quickly unbuttoned his jeans and shoved a hand inside. He must have finished wetting, because he yanked himself off to climax with a shout of pleasure and then collapsed against Snape, his head falling over to rest on the man’s shoulder.
Snape took the boy in his arms, catching his breath as the final spurts of pee left him. He was wet down both legs past his knees, and was sitting in a thick pool of urine that was both his and the boy’s. He could feel the boy’s pulse quick and fast throughout his body, and Snape realized that his own was nearly as frantic, that he was almost as spent in pleasure as the boy had been.
Harry drew his knees to his chest, curling up in the Professor’s lap and closing his eyes. Nothing needed to be said, and they both sensed that the only thing to do was settle what they had both begun.
“You will accompany Draco back to Hogwarts, where you will both remain under my care for the remainder of this summer.”
Harry nodded, mumbling something in assent which Snape did not catch. They knew it was the only solution. Harry and Draco could still be together, and yet it would be easy to pass off their joint presence at Hogwarts. Lucius already believed Draco was spending the summer with Snape, and they would simply explain that Potter had returned due to a mix-up with his relatives sometime over the course of the last few weeks. It would only make sense that Dumbledore would assign Snape to care for Potter, considering he was already watching over the Malfoy boy.
Lifting him in his arms, Snape carried the boy from the office and into his adjoining rooms, where he spelled him clean and laid him to rest in his own bed.
“Tell me now if you still wet the bed,” Snape warned. “I will need to protect the mattress.”
“No,” Harry mumbled, half-asleep. “Not for a long time, now.”
Snape smirked at the boy’s innocence, his obvious pride at overcoming his past bedwetting problem. Raising his wand, he spelled the mattress anyway, placing waterproof spells he, as head of house, performed on every mattress within the Slytherin boys’ dorms before the start of term. Boys simply couldn’t be trusted; if it wasn’t one kind of wet dream, it was another.
--- |
Next chapter. No real warnings here, just some angsty-Draco/Snape and some innocent desperation on Draco's part. Enjoy!
Chapter 24
Draco bit at his thumbnail as he watched the sky darkening outside. Harry had been gone for far longer than expected, and he was beginning to worry. He had begged the dark-haired boy to tell him where he was going and what he was planning, but all Harry had agreed to tell him was that he was handling the Snape situation, that they would no longer need to worry that their relationship would be brought to light. Still, Draco knew there was a reason Harry hadn’t given him the whole truth, and he had a nervous, sinking dread in his stomach as the hours grew later that was only heightened by his realization that he was the only one in the old, creaking house. He had never slept alone in a house, going straight from his father’s manor to Hogwarts. He did not enjoy the feeling of solitude and emptiness. He almost missed the crowded, over-extended feeling of the Weasley’s home.
It seemed Harry had explained the situation to Hermione and Ron, for they had both agreed it would be best were they not to come back with the boys to Grimmauld Place. They would happily visit, and although Ron had seemed a bit depressed to be left behind, Draco knew he understood the reasons. But, as Draco worried that Harry would not return that night, he began to wish the Gryffindor’s friends had not remained at the Burrow, or that he had remained as well, and was back on the cot in Ron’s room, hearing Mrs. Weasley down the hallway demanding that the twins stop setting off fireworks from their bedroom window. He hated being alone, memories he tried to forget always seemed to surface when he spent too long solitary and withdrawn from others.
Draco wandered downstairs and tried to read by the fireplace, hoping to come face to face with Harry, and trying to remaind optimistic that he would appear at any moment. He assured himself that Harry would have told Draco were he staying out all night. Or, at least, Draco hoped he would have.
Unable to concentrate on the book in his hands, he sat back in the chair, keeping his mind focused on Harry and their past few days at the Burrow rather than memories of his father or the meetings he had witnessed of the Death Eaters. His father had hosted many gatherings, and nothing had been done to ensure Draco remained in his room while the proceedings were occurring. His mother had advocated for his safety, but Lucius would not hear of it, preferring that Draco be witness to the tortures, humiliations, and murders in order to toughen him up. Draco had been unable to look away, and the images still remained with him, hiding in the shadows of the darkened old house.
When the fire blazed and a figure stepped into the living room, he shrunk back, drawing his legs up onto the seat of the armchair as he dug in his pocket for his wand. The presence was too tall and looming to be Harry, and, in the darkness of the room, Draco had a hard time identifying the man. He raised his wand and began an incantation, but before he could get the words out, he recognized his Uncle Snape with a sigh of relief.
“You scared me to death,” he admitted, not bothering to hide his nervousness.
It was comforting to be alone in his Uncle’s presence; he could not remember the last time they had been, and as he almost immediately settled into the casualness of their private relationship, he realized just how much he had missed spending time with the man. As he had grown older, he had shied away from his Uncle, his father having made it clear that Snape would in no way be showing him favoritism whilst the boy remained at Hogwarts. Draco had a sinking suspicion his father had even instructed Snape to be harsh on him, although he knew any animosity Snape had shown had been merely an act.
“Are you ill?” Snape asked, stepping forward to get a closer look at the boy. “You look pale.”
Draco shook his head, swallowing. He may feel comfortable in his godfather’s presence, but he was not about to admit that he had been terrified of the prospect of staying alone in an old house that had once belonged to Sirius Black, who, although Harry’s godfather, remained a suspected criminal and dangerous man in Draco’s mind. A man who only caused him to remember the gruesome, horrible deaths he had seen all those years ago.
“I’m fine,” Draco rasped.
Snape nodded, then seemed to become mildly distracted, glancing around the dark living room, his eyes lingering over door frames and fraying rugs as if he were seeing them again after many years. He walked past Draco and crossed to the opposite wall, where he lifted a tattered piece of wallpaper to reveal a hidden cabinet. He turned to find Draco craning his head up over the back of the armchair and immediately let the wallpaper fall back into place, clearing his throat as he clasped his hands behind his back.
“Go and gather your things,” He said, returning to his spot in front of the fireplace, where he leaned an elbow on the mantelpiece. “You and Mr. Potter will be spending the remainder of the summer under my care at school.”
“Where’s Harry?” Draco asked. “Is he alright?”
Snape cleared his throat and Draco could not help but stare. His Uncle looked mildly uncomfortable, his eyes flicking around the room rather than remain boring down into Draco himself.
“He is sleeping in my quarters, obviously exhausted after the barbaric hours the two of you kept while traipsing around the Burrow,” Snape mused.
“You knew where we were?” Draco gaped.
“Yes,” Snape told him, not offering any means of explanation. “Now kindly gather your things. It’s far past the time you should be asleep.”
Draco nodded and scampered up the stairs to pack some clothing, all too aware that, despite a level tone of voice, his Uncle was getting close to impatience. He packed his own things as well as a bag for Harry, consciously leaving their school books and half-completed assignments on the desks of their bedrooms. He knew his Uncle would make them work over the course of their time with him, but he hoped they could at least make it a week or so without him noticing. Spending time around the Weasley twins had rekindled his appreciation for mischievous behavior, and he had been meaning to nag Harry for having turned him into such a goody two-shoes in such a short time span.
Hurrying down the stairs, he found his Uncle once again wandering the living room, pausing every so often to touch a photograph or wipe dust from a bookshelf. It was strange behavior from the man, but Draco knew Snape often let his guard down when they were alone. Draco knew his Uncle possibly better than anyone else knew him, could understand his harshness and stoic personality. And the same was true for Snape, who knew details about Draco that no one else knew, including his parents. They understood each other better than any other single person understood them, and had an unspoken agreement in regards to keeping each others’ secrets. At least, they had, while Draco was growing up.
Now, he wasn’t quite sure. Watching his godfather survey the house with an intensity almost resembling sorrow made him believe much had happened to the man after they had transitioned into their distant relationship as teacher and student. It made Draco believe his Uncle had found a replacement for him as confidant, had known someone intimately, to a greater extent than he had thought possible.
“I’m ready, Uncle,” Draco said gently.
Snape barely glanced up from a book he had taken off the shelf, tracing his fingers along the spine.
“Use the loo before we go,” the man said, distracted.
Draco blinked. It had been the kind of thing his Uncle would advise when he had been a child, the kind of phrase that had become an idiom spoken before day trips when he was seven years old. Draco scoffed to cover his embarrassment; he would have been angry at the suggestion if it hadn’t been for the fact that he had never seen his Uncle quite so absent-minded.
“We’re only going by floo, aren’t we?” Draco asked, louder, trying to pull his Uncle out of his confusion.
There was a sharp intake of breath as Snape snapped out of his trance and turned his head to stare at Draco. He set the book back onto the shelf without a second-glance, stalking towards the fireplace and holding out a hand to help the blonde with the bags.
“Let’s go,” he ordered, stiff-backed and present once more.
Draco nodded, and stepped into the fireplace as his godfather threw the floopowder, pushing to the back of his mind the thought that he actually did have a need for the loo, realizing a twinge of fullness in the pit of his stomach.
---
The walk from Hogsmede to Hogwarts had begun as mildly uncomfortable for Draco, whose need to pee was only heightened by the cool summer night. He had no idea of the time, although judging from the stars and moon, he knew it was past midnight. Whether Snape sensed his need or was simply being accommodating, he had taken both bags from Draco and shrunk them down to fit inside the pockets of his robes, leaving Draco free to simply follow him without having to carry any extra weight. Nevertheless, the lack of distraction only allowed Draco to focus on his growing need. Sometimes, he hated the fact that the Hogwarts’ floo system was restricted during the summertime to keep curious or bored students from appearing unannounced. Snape would have been able to floo into his office, but Draco would not have been allowed, and unless his Uncle carried him, they would be too large to travel together.
Draco was pleased when the castle came into view. His godfather had made them stop halfway back, and had made Draco find a sweatshirt in his bag to wear.
“You’re shivering,” he explained when Draco set to argue. “I have no desire to nurse you back from sickness were you to catch cold.”
He tried not to squirm as Snape resized the bag and gave it to him to dig around in, not bothering to mention that the man had resized Harry’s bag rather than Draco’s own. He simply grabbed the first sweater he came across and yanked it down over his head, unable to keep from shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
“Ok, can we go now?” he asked, rolling his eyes.
Snape warned him to control his attitude, and had made a comment about how this was why he kept his Slytherins on tight sleep schedules and did not let them stray from the set hours, even on the weekends. Draco simply sighed and continued to follow his path, grateful his godfather seemed to believe him only cranky from lack of sleep rather than nervous he was going to start leaking into his underwear. He hurried behind him, and more than likely would have walked straight into Snape were the man to stop suddenly.
The warmth of the castle seemed to alleviate Draco’s need, but only for a moment. His initial relief was hampered by the realization that he would now need to follow Snape down to his quarters in the dungeons. He could not stop to use a loo on the way, because he had already laughed at the suggestion that he go before they left Grimmauld Place. He shoved a hand into his pocket, pressing against himself in a way that he hoped was inconspicuous. Sighing, Draco resigned himself to the fact that he had to hold his pee, at least for a few minutes longer.
“Almost there, now,” Snape said, turning to glance at Draco’s hunched shoulders.
Draco blushed. Had Snape seen him hold himself? Could he tell that he needed the loo, or was he merely making conversation? Grunting, he made his way past Snape and walked down the stairwells he knew would lead to the dungeons, the darkness of each step reminding him of his first night at Hogwarts, seven years ago, the night he sneaked out of his dorms to find Snape’s quarters, and had gotten lost. He hadn’t been able to sleep, and although he knew it was babyish to go running to his Uncle, he had needed to be close to the man. He spent the entire night curled up outside the door to his quarters, unable to bring himself to knock because he knew Lucius would never approve. Snape had found him before breakfast, shivering on the stone floor in a puddle of his own pee, having wet himself at some point during the night.
Draco took a breath and walked purposefully down the hallways, putting the memory out of his mind. And yet, as he turned the proper corners and made his way lower into the castle, he couldn’t help but feel a semblance of the comfort he had found while curled outside his Uncle’s rooms. He couldn’t help but realize he felt safer in the man’s presence, as if he could finally begin to relax once he was back living with Snape, because his godfather would take care of him. It was an extension of the feeling he had come to know in Harry’s presence, only deeper, since it was memory as much as reality.
Upon reaching the entrance to his Uncle’s rooms, Draco realized he had lost Snape at some point in the journey. Groaning, he turned to the doorway and pressed his thighs together. It was torture being directly outside the Professor’s rooms, including his loo, and being unable to enter. When he glanced over his shoulder and still did not see his godfather, he risked a quick squeeze of his crotch, nearly moaning over the relief that small gesture had given him.
Hearing Snape’s footsteps, he stood straight and turned away from the wall, keeping still apart from the tapping of his foot against the floor. He was desperate, and hated the feeling. He was sick of his small bladder, and his constant fear of wetting himself. Harry had done much to teach him to enjoy wetting every once in a while, but their private games did nothing to alleviate the shame he felt when he was caught short at other times.
“Open the door,” Draco blurted out when his Uncle came around the corner. “Please.”
Snape only looked at the boy and held out his hand, palm facing upwards.
“Wand,” he prompted.
“What?”
Draco stuck his hand back into his pocket, praying the darkness of the hallway would be enough to keep his Uncle from realizing that he had actually resorted to holding himself.
“Neither you nor Mr. Potter will be allowed a wand while under my care,” Snape explained, his eyes lingering over Draco's waist. “There should be no need for either of you to utilize one.”
Normally, Draco would have fought against the rule. If he had been thinking clearly, he would have realized just how defenseless he felt without his wand, just how vulnerable. He would have remembered the hassle of living without magic, or the prospect of Lucius appearing at any moment ready to strike, or even the drying spells he had been practicing with Hermione. As it was, he would do anything at the moment if it meant he would be allowed to pee. He was beginning to lose control, and a fast spurt escaped as he withdrew his wand from his pocket and nearly threw it at his Uncle.
Snape glared at him when he flung the wand towards him, more than likely chalking the moment up as additional evidence of Draco’s crankiness due to lack of sleep. He turned after a moment to flick his wand at the door, mumbling the counter-charms to whatever spells had been placed for security. The second the door opened, Draco shouldered himself past his Uncle and inside the living room, no longer bothering to hide his desperation as he had felt another spurt release. Pinching himself, he hobbled to the loo off the kitchen hallway, barely unbuttoning his jeans and yanking his briefs down before he began wetting.
He sighed at the relief, yet closed his eyes in shame at the spectacle he had made of himself in front of his Uncle. He wanted to be close to Harry, needed to see him and feel his arms around him. He was angry at himself, and disgusted by his lack of control.
Snape was waiting for him outside the loo after he had finished and washed his hands. He was already regretting his loss of a wand, as his briefs were quite damp, and could have used a quick drying spell. He blushed as his Uncle held out the bags for him and raised his eyebrows slightly, but was relieved when he didn’t mention anything about Draco’s obvious desperation.
“Go sleep in the master bedroom,” he said, nodding down the hallway. “Potter should already be asleep. I will take the guest bed for tonight.”
Draco nodded, unable to look his Uncle in the eye as he began carrying the suitcases down the hall. He felt his Uncle watching him, felt as if he had lost any independence he had gained while living at Grimmauld Place with Harry. Maybe the feeling of security he remembered from his years spent in his Uncle’s presence wasn’t quite as positive as he had initially thought.
“And, Draco,” Snape called, causing the boy to stop, although he did not turn around. “You may leave your wet things in the laundry hamper in the corner of the loo.”
Cringing, Draco dragged the suitcases down the hallway as quickly as possible as his stomach sank in shame. He did not turn back or respond to the man, simply wanting to escape his Uncle’s presence. How was the man so aware? How had he known that Draco’s briefs were so soaked he could feel tiny dribbles of pee running down his inner thighs each time he moved? He closed himself into the master bedroom and began stripping out of his wet things, seeing that there was a wet patch on his jeans that he had not noticed before. He knew without a doubt, however, that Snape would not have missed the wetness.
Tossing his jeans and underwear into the hamper, he dragged on clean briefs and a pair of flannel pajamas before climbing into his Uncle’s bed. There was another sinking feeling in his stomach as he promised himself he would not wet the bed. It would be too much; although his Uncle was well aware of Draco’s bed wetting, or at least had been aware of it when he was a child, he doubted the man suspected he still wet almost every night. He was torn; part of him longed to be protected by Snape, to be taken in by him, while the other part of him wished for nothing more than to be back at Grimmauld Place with Harry, carefree and far away from the strict, regimented lifestyle led by Severus Snape.
“Hey, there,” Harry mumbled, rolling over to look Draco in the eye. He was smiling, eyes half closed as he seemed to be attempting to make out who had just gotten into bed with him.
“Hi,” Draco mumbled, letting Harry’s hands find his chest and then letting him wrap his arms around his waist.
Harry nuzzled up against Draco, kissing him on the neck, jaw, and then lips. Draco relaxed into the kiss, closing his eyes and immediately gaining comfort from the other boy’s presence. The night had put him through an array of emotions, and he was spent, wanting nothing more than to sleep and start fresh the next day.
“What are you doing here?” Harry asked, pulling away from the kiss and laying his head on Draco’s shoulder.
“Snape came to get me,” the blonde explained, and Harry nodded. Draco opened his mouth to admit to his boyfriend just what had happened on the trip to Snape’s rooms at Hogwarts, but a small part of him questioned the admission, embarrassed despite Harry’s self-professed appreciation for the blonde’s frequent desperate dashes to the loo.
“Everything okay?” Harry asked, sitting up on an elbow to look Draco in the eye. He reached a hand over to the nightstand and fished around for his glasses, hooking them onto his ears as he inspected Draco’s expression.
“No,” Draco admitted, shaking his head. He leaned his head back against the headboard and glanced up at the ceiling.
“What’s wrong, Dray?”
Draco rolled to the side, placing his back to Harry and yanking the sheet up to his shoulders.
“Nothing,” he mumbled, not wanting Harry to see that he was dangerously close to tears. He cursed his emotionality, blaming the late hour and his overtaxed mind. How had he become so soft? How had he managed to show such a complete absence of control that he not only peed his pants, but cried about it? He shuddered to think what would happen were he reduced to tears in Lucius’ presence. He needed to stay strong and harsh, and, he realized with a sigh, that may require him to begin separating himself from the Gryffindor in bed with him.
But Harry’s chest pressed up against his back and his whispered words soothed Draco, who could not help but believe the dark-haired boy when he promised that everything would be alright. He would begin reclaiming his attitude and sternness tomorrow. What happened between then and dawn did not have to count.
---
Edited June 18, 2012 by 222foxface222
(see edit history) |
I've been inspired to write lately, which means more frequent updates for you guys. If you're still reading, please let me know--I'm extremely grateful for Wolf and Ryoku, but I'd like to know if anyone else is still reading, too! Maybe the story's just too long for people to keep up with?? Have you guys lost interest?
Anyway, for those of you still reading, I hope you like this chapter. There is wetting but no desperation, although there is some major Snarry going on in this uber-long chapter, so you've been warned! ;) Have a good day, guys.
Chapter 25
Harry woke with a gasp as he felt a hot wetness stream against his hip. Turning over in bed, he glanced down to see Draco deep asleep, and yet there was no doubt that the blonde was wetting the bed. Draco mumbled something incoherent as he remained in the throes of a dream, and Harry could not help but crook his knee in order to angle his thigh towards Draco’s crotch, enjoying the feel of the pee coating his leg through his pajama pants. The sheets beneath the boy were becoming saturated in urine as he continued to pee, and Harry sighed, deeply aroused and yet guilty to be enjoying Draco’s accident. He knew the blonde would be upset to have wet the bed, especially considering they were not at Grimmauld Place, but in Snape’s room at Hogwarts.
The thought excited Harry, and he imagined the look on Snape’s face were he to discover that such an immature, childish act had occurred beneath his sheets. Harry suspected the man would find it all extremely unseemly, that he would sneer at the soiled bed linens and threaten to punish Draco for his lack of control. And yet, despite the threat of discipline, Harry wished it had been him to pee the bed, wished he had realized just what position it would have put him in. He had been wondering what would come of the excitement he had found the day before in Snape’s presence, and had not been able to stop thinking of the way Snape had yanked him into his lap, the way he had pissed himself beneath Harry. He became hard even remembering the moment, the warm liquid spreading up towards his hips as Draco released his bladder unconsciously only aiding in his desire for debauchery. He knew Draco would be shamed by wetting himself, and yet he was grateful for the boy; he had just allowed him to realize the perfect way to find himself at the mercy of Snape once again.
Harry chose to let Draco sleep, wanting to give the boy a semblance of peace and restfulness for as long as possible. He knew, if the boy was tired enough, wetting would not be enough to yank him from sleep, and it would only be the next morning that the blonde would realize he had been sleeping in a puddle of his own pee. Unfortunately, however, it seemed that tonight was not a night for Draco to sleep through his bedwetting, and it was only a few moments before the boy began to stir, rubbing his eyes as he woke up.
“Hey,” Harry said, turning to face the boy. He gave him a small smile, knowing it was only a matter of seconds before Draco realized what he had done.
“Hi,” Draco mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
The blonde paused as he began to wake up, obviously having felt the familiar clamminess of soaking wet sheets and pajama bottoms. He glanced up at Harry in fear and embarrassment, his eyes almost immediately filling with tears. Harry had been expecting the reaction; Draco was always the most emotionally weak when he was battling a lack of sleep.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Harry prompted, kissing Draco on the temple.
“I...I...” Draco stammered, kicking the wet top sheet off of himself as he mumbled something incoherently. He sat up and stared at his wet crotch and legs before immediately glancing up at the door in fear. Harry knew he was thinking about Snape, about what would happen were he to be found out.
“Don’t worry,” Harry soothed, taking Draco’s hand in his own. “We’ll fix it.”
Draco simply looked towards Harry and began to cry, his face crumpling as he shrunk down onto the bed and drew his knees up to his chest. He looked small and pitiful, nervous energy taking over as he began to pull at the bottom of his lip, a habit Harry had seen whenever he was particularly stressed which he assumed was a carry-over from childhood.
“Don’t tell Uncle Severus,” he whispered, controlling his sobs as Harry stroked his cheek. “He can’t know.”
Harry nodded, although he mused that Draco’s fear of his Uncle learning of his bedwetting was more than likely not necessary. Snape missed very little, and Harry had a sinking suspicion that the head of Draco’s house would almost certainly be made aware of a student’s nighttime accidents, particularly those of his godson.
“Stop crying,” Harry told him, rubbing his shoulder. “You just had an accident.”
He hated to see Draco upset, particularly over something he believed a small problem considering what they had both suffered throughout their childhoods. Nevertheless, he knew Draco was ashamed of himself, that he would be mortified were his Uncle to learn of what he had done. And, not having their wands to hide the evidence, Harry began to realize there were very few options available to them.
“Take off your pants,” Harry said, climbing out from under the blankets and beginning to remove his own pajamas. “Switch with me. He’ll think I did it.”
Gawking, Draco stared up at him and shook his head, beginning to cry once more.
“It’s alright, Dray,” Harry said, stripping completely naked before handing his pajamas and briefs across the bed to Draco. There was a large wet spot on the thigh of his pajama pants, stretching from his leg up onto his hip, and yet his briefs were dry, so he knew Draco would not be entirely uncomfortable. “Switch sides of the bed with me.”
Draco looked skeptical, but shifted out of the wet spot on the mattress until he was resting on the dry half of the bed. After a moment, he followed Harry’s lead, beginning to strip out of his sopping wet clothes.
“You don’t have to do this,” he sniffed, passing a bundle of his pee-stained clothing towards the dark-haired boy.
Harry nodded, standing out of bed to yank on Draco’s yellowed, cooling briefs. He could not hide the erection that formed as the saturated material was dragged up his legs to meet his crotch, as he smelled Draco’s urine on the briefs and felt tepid liquid on his fingertips.
“I know,” he said, stepping into the peed-in pajama bottoms. “But I don’t mind.”
In fact, Harry was excited by the situation. As he did up the buttons on Draco’s pajama shirt, he stiffened even more in the wet briefs, knowing he would need to admit to Snape that he had pissed the bed, that he would need to get the man to clean up the bed before they could go back to sleep.
“Thank you,” Draco sighed, looking up at Harry as if he had just saved his life. Harry smiled and bent down to take Draco’s lips in his own, kissing deeply as the blonde ran his hands up and down Harry’s stomach. He moaned in pleasure, frotting his hips against the side of the bed, the friction of the wet fabric against his stiffness nearly too much to bear. But he knew there was possibly more to come that night, and he pulled away with reluctance.
“Go back to sleep,” Harry instructed, and waited until Draco had at least lain his head on the pillow. The Slytherin looked strange dressed in the deep crimson color of Gryffindor House, but Harry hoped the boy was too tired and stressed to realize that Snape knew exactly what each of their pajamas looked like, hoped he would simply fall back asleep and let Harry take care of his problem.
“I’m sorry,” Draco mumbled, turning to look Harry in the eye.
Harry simply shook his head and bent to kiss the blonde on the forehead.
“It was an accident,” he said. “You didn’t do anything wrong, baby.”
Draco sighed and nodded, although Harry knew he was unconvinced. Patting his back for a moment, Harry waited until his head was back on the pillow and he seemed to be calmed before leaving the room, stepping out into the nearly pitch-black hallway and closing the bedroom door behind him.
He did not remember the layout of Snape’s rooms, having seen them for the first time the day before, when Snape had carried him through. He remembered the man’s strong arms supporting him, remembered trying to recall the last time he had been carried, the last time someone had held him in their arms. Thankfully, the rooms were small, and Harry knew there were only three rooms off the hallway leading from the open-plan kitchen and living room. One was the master bedroom, from which he had just come, and one was the loo, the door of which had been left open. That only left one closed door, which was obviously the guest bedroom, where Snape was resting at that very moment.
Despite his excitement, Harry could not help but feel an overwhelming apprehension as he reached to open the door of the guest bedroom. Draco’s pee against his thighs and crotch caused him to squirm and draw the fabric away from his skin with an almost constant plucking motion. He was imagining a multitude of scenarios in his mind as to what Snape’s reaction would be, and yet the unknown was causing him nervousness.
Rather than open the door of the guest room, Harry took a breath and ducked into the loo, flicking on the light and shutting himself into the small room. He instantly caught a glimpse of himself in the full-length mirror on the back of the door as he closed it, smirking as he saw the true extent of the wetness spread throughout his pants. Not to mention the flushed face--whether from arousal or sleepiness, Harry would never know--and tousled hair, giving him a general look of dishevelment that was all too fitting with the obviously unkempt state of his nearly dripping pajama bottoms.
Giving his crotch a quick squeeze as the sight thrilled him, he smiled mischievously and, closing his eyes, sat fully-clothed on the toilet. Concentrating, he released his half-full bladder into his pants, allowing his own urine to stream through the already wet fabric. The feeling was euphoric, and he tucked a hand between his legs to feel the liquid surge through the cotton of his pajama bottoms and stream down towards his backside as well. He stifled a moan as he opened his eyes to glance in the mirror, watching himself peeing in his pants. He wanted to be sopping wet, wanted to trail drips of pee down the hallway that Snape would find the next morning.
When he was completely empty and Draco’s pajama bottoms wetter than ever, he stood from the toilet. The liquid that had still yet to be absorbed dripped down his legs, causing him to shiver as the trails tickled his inner-thighs until he pressed his legs together, allowing the wetness to be absorbed by dry sections of fabric. He was desperate to orgasm, to gain relief, and yet he knew the moment he climaxed, he would lose his nerve. He had to face Snape now, while adrenaline and testosterone were on his side.
Fiddling with the wet fabric at his crotch, Harry crossed the hallway to stand in front of the guest bedroom. He shook a leg as a trickle of urine dripped from his wet briefs and rolled down his leg, trailing down out of his cuff of his pant leg and onto the stone floor. His bare feet were freezing against the coolness of the dungeon hallways, and he lifted one to rub against the calf of his pajamas for warmth, but only succeeded in getting it covered in pee, and subsequently leaving a wet footprint on the threshold outside the doorway.
Swallowing, his arousal spurring him on, he turned the handle of the oversized door and let the door open slightly. He did not believe it possible, but it seemed even darker in the guest bedroom than it had been in the hallway, and as he looked behind him, he realized he had forgotten to turn the light off in the loo. He peered into the room, feeling for all intents and purposes like a five year old running to his Mommy and Daddy after a bad dream. He kept the door closed enough to hide the wet state of his lower half, scanning the room for any signs of Snape, and yet the man was not there.
Opening the door wider, Harry stepped into the room, noticing the sheets on the bed had been pulled back, as if someone had recently slept in them and then gotten out of bed. Which meant Snape was awake, that Harry would not force him to get out of bed in order to help him change the sheets. He was unsure as to whether he was relieved or more nervous as he closed the door of the bedroom and headed towards the living room and kitchen, expecting his Professor to show himself any moment, and demand he explain his reasons for being out of bed.
Harry had heard from the occasional Slytherin that Snape was not one to be lenient on curfews or lights-out times. He expected his students to be in bed when he said they should be, no exceptions. Harry imagined timid first years, or even nervous fourth or fifth years clutching between their legs in the middle of the night within the Slytherin dungeons, scared to leave the bed to pee because Snape had forbidden it, and finally gasping as they lost control, as they pissed themselves helplessly in their beds. The thought made him shudder, and he placed Draco in the fantasy, wriggling about, desperate to go but also to please his Uncle, and he was forced to breathe deeply, to stifle the urge to touch himself right there in the hallway. He was so turned-on, even as the pee became cold and began to itch he was grateful for it, for the excuse it gave him to find the Potions Professor and present himself to the man, needy and vulnerable.
He was not in the kitchen, nor was he in the living room, and Harry knew the only other place to look would be the man’s laboratory, which provided the connection between the Professor’s classroom and office and his rooms. Taking a breath, he pushed open the door gently, his arousal decreasing a bit as nervous energy and, he had to admit, fear, set in.
“Professor?” Harry asked, caught unaware as his voice was raspy and thick from sleep. He cleared his throat and rubbed his eyes, realizing for the first time that he had forgotten to put on his glasses. That was why everything had appeared so misshapen and blurry in the darkness. It was out of character for him to have left his glasses behind, but a part of him must have known that it would only make him less prepared, more exposed and defenseless as he went to meet the other man.
He could just barely make out the outline of Snape, sitting across from him behind what could only be a pensieve and orange vials of memory stacked beside it. It appeared the man was not in the throes of a memory, however, and Harry assumed he had been lost in thought for some time, eyes unfocused as he replayed a past life.
“Professor Snape?” he asked again, forcing himself to speak louder as he opened the door a bit more. He was surprised at just how nervous he felt, despite his anticipation. Swallowing thickly, he unconsciously dropped a hand to cover some of the wetness of his crotch. He hoped the man had not yet noticed, that the door was still hiding his little problem.
The dark man stood from a stool and quickly whisked the vials of memory into an opened drawer, realizing that he was not alone with a slight growl that Harry knew did not bode well.
“Mr. Potter, are you unaware that bedtimes are strict in this household, that they are to be obeyed unless you would like to suffer extreme consequences?”
The man’s voice was thick and deep, his lips pursed together as he stood glaring at Harry threateningly. The boy could not help but stumble a step backwards, his heartbeat quickening in his throat.
“I-I’m sorry, sir,” Harry mumbled, nearly incoherent. He had hoped Snape would be amenable to fooling around once more, that the sight of him in wet pants would spark arousal within the man, and he would once more be pulled onto his lap and held close.
“It is nearly three o’clock in the morning, Mr. Potter,” Snape spat, gathering the pensieve and shoving it back onto a shelf with a sneer of anger. “What possible reason could you have for disturbing the entire household by prancing about the hallways like an undisciplined house elf at such an ungodly hour?”
Harry did not speak, knowing he would simply make a blithering, stammering fool of himself were he to try. It was clear the man was in a foul mood, that whatever memories he had been viewing in the pensieve had either been infuriating or extremely painful. Harry should have simply laid a towel under Draco, taken him out of his wet clothes, and left Snape to deal with his own godson in the morning. Except now he had gone and bothered Snape, now he had pissed through the pajamas himself, had brought himself into what should have simply remained Draco’s indiscretion, and there was no pretending it had never happened.
“Come here,” Snape ordered, pointing in front of him as he turned to the door and stood at his full height. Harry was unused to this anger from Snape, as the anger he showed in class or during detentions had never felt quite so unguarded as this, had never felt as volatile. He worried that Snape would strike him, and had the same sinking feeling in his stomach that overtook him when his Uncle Vernon used to discipline him with wooden spoons or old shoes or even, once, a garden hoe.
“I-I’m sorry, Professor,” Harry mumbled, backing away from the door. “I’ll g-go back to b-bed.”
Harry turned to retreat, but Snape was too quick for him, storming to the door and yanking it open wide enough to cause it to slam against the wall of the laboratory.
“I told you to come here,” Snape said sharply, and even without his glasses, he could feel as he turned around that the man’s eyes were intense and cold.
As Snape stepped out of his laboratory and came face to face with the boy in the living room, Harry was surprised to find whimpering noises coming from his own throat. He had suddenly been reduced to the nine-year-old he had once been, cowering from his Uncle’s fists, praying that, for once, nothing would be broken and no blood would be shed. He stood as straight as possible, doing his best to prove to himself that he was seventeen, that he was braver than he had once been, and yet feeling quite unsuccessful in his attempt. He vowed that he would not cry; that would only give them the satisfaction.
“I...I’m sorry,” Harry began, cursing himself for already admitting his culpability by apologizing. His hands drifted to the front of his crotch, attempting to casually cover the darkness spread across his thighs and down his legs, although he knew it would not go unnoticed.
Snape grabbed him roughly by the upper arm and yanked him into the laboratory so hard that Harry stumbled off his feet, being dragged across the threshold as Snape glowered in anger.
“Did you not, Mr. Potter, inform me that you no longer pissed your sheets?” He demanded, throwing Harry against the wall and bending down to bore into his eyes.
“Y-yes,” Harry said, pitifully, closing his eyes as the momentum caused his head to slam against the wall.. “B-but I--”
“Which means that you were lying to me earlier, does it not?”
Harry opened his mouth, but could not think up any excuse. Even if he told the truth, Snape would not believe him. He pulled at the hem of the pajama shirt, wanting to point out that the clothes he was wearing were Draco’s, that they were nearly too small on him and in the wrong color. When had Snape ever seen Harry wear the emerald green of Slytherin House?
“Answer me, Potter!” Snape yelled, slamming his hand against the wall dangerously close to the side of Harry’s head.
Harry cringed, turning his head away as he squeezed his eyes closed.
“N-no,” he said without thinking. “It-it wasn’t m-me.”
Snape nearly roared as he took Harry by the shoulders and shook him, then threw him back against the wall and grabbed the boy roughly between the legs, causing Harry to gasp and shove himself as close to the wall as possible, shuddering with either terror or stimulation. Snape squeezed Harry’s crotch, causing a splatter of liquid to splash onto the floor.
“Then would you care to explain why you’ve been wandering around my rooms in soiled clothing? Would you care to enlighten me as to why you think it acceptable to trail your stinking, revolting pee through my hallways like some kind of feral dog?”
Harry was barely breathing by the time Snape released his crotch, and he crumpled down to the ground as soon as the man let him go.
“Fuck you,” Harry spat, unable to keep his anger in check any longer. He knew it was wrong to fight back, knew his Uncle would simply smack him around for longer were he to show any signs of animosity, and yet he was unable to restrain himself as he stood back to his full height and faced off against his Professor. “You didn’t seem to mind a bit of carnality when you pissed yourself dry into your robes earlier today, when you dragged me onto your lap and wouldn’t let me go, when you marked me, claimed me like some piece of meat and proved just how untamed you really are.”
Snape slapped him across the mouth but Harry barely flinched. He had been hit harder by his Aunt Petunia. Squaring off, he walked himself towards the man, reaching forward and grabbing Snape’s crotch through his many layers of robes. He was shocked to feel that the fabric was still damp, that the man had changed back into the clothing he had pissed in.
“Watch yourself, Potter,” Snape warned, although Harry knew he was enjoying this immensely.
The Potions Master groaned as the Gryffindor pressed against him, as he fondled him and his damp clothing.
“I didn’t pee your fucking bed,” Harry spat. “Draco did.”
Snape shoved the boy away from him and once more threw him against the wall. He pressed himself close, bending a knee to shove against the boy’s crotch as his own groin found pressure humping the boy’s hip. He ran a rough hand over the boy’s cheek and down his neck to curl his fingers threateningly around his pounding throat.
“I am quite aware of that, Mr. Potter,” Snape whispered.
And with that, he bent down and shoved his mouth against Harry’s, reducing the boy to pleading moans as he begged for it to continue, as he lost himself in the powerful lips and the opened mouth of his Professor, who raised his thumb from the boy’s sensitive throat up beneath the boy’s jaw, pressing it there to keep him from pulling away, pressing it there to remind him that he was in control, and that there was nothing the sixth-year Gryffindor could do about it.
---
Edited June 20, 2012 by 222foxface222
(see edit history) |
Here's the next update--I've been away for a while so haven't had time to post. Hope you've all been well! Enjoy!
Chapter 26
The next morning, Draco could not help but blush as his Uncle surveyed the damage done to his bed, the large wet-spot still stained against the bed, the edges dried slightly to give the white sheets a yellow tinge. He had to keep himself from apologizing, and instead hung his head in his desire not to look at his Uncle. If only he had been allowed to keep his wand, this would not have happened. He could have hidden it from the man; he could have cleaned himself up and not felt like such a misbehaving child. He clenched his jaw, suddenly angry, convinced that his Uncle enjoyed seeing him in such a vulnerable position, that he liked making Draco rely on him in his weakness.
“The two of you need to get cleaned up,” Snape said, calling to Draco’s mind the words he had spoken after finding the boys playing their game of teacher-student back in the Slytherin common room. “Breakfast is in twenty minutes.”
The man could have easily cleaned the sheets with a flick of his wrist, and yet he instead spelled the sheets off the bed, revealing the damage done to the mattress. The sheets were sent to a bundle next to the doorway, and Draco caught Harry eyeing them, and saw a look pass between his godfather and the other boy. Something had happened between the two of them, and the blonde could not help but think of his trysts with Weasley, of the way the boy had yelled and struck and spanked; Draco felt sick to his stomach when he realized he was getting aroused imagining Snape dominating Harry, and he quickly left the room to take a shower in the hallway loo. Harry had sacrificed his own dignity for Draco, and here he was wishing he had witnessed the boy’s punishment, wishing that he had listened harder in case he had been able to hear the other boy’s stifled screams.
Breakfast was fast and quiet, Draco barely glancing up from the food on his plate. He was not hungry, although his godfather was not one to let food go to waste. He knew he would be required to at least make an effort of eating the food that had been made for him. He gulped juice and tried to work up the stomach for his toast and eggs. It had been a bad idea to bring Harry to his godfather’s. He was already dreading the prospect of wetting the bed that night, the prospect of Harry having to cover for him once more. He knew he would not be able to let him without the guilt eating him alive, and once again cursed himself for getting attached, for becoming soft enough to care that the Gryffindor was becoming his whipping-boy.
Harry, for his part, seemed unaffected apart from an eagerness which Draco could not place a motive to. He was eating heartily, seemingly chipper as he rambled on about this or that on occasion and kept up a conversation with Dobby, who had brought their breakfast up from the Hogwarts kitchens. Draco had not gotten the opportunity to speak with him before they had been summoned to the kitchen table; he kept trying to look at him apologetically, to signal to him that he was grateful for whatever it was Harry had endured on his behalf, but the boy did not make eye contact with him, and was soon helping Dobby with the dirty dishes.
“Leave that, Mr. Potter,” Snape prompted from his seat at the head of the table. “Gather your school work and bring it out here. Mr. Malfoy, I’d like you to do likewise. I assume neither of you has made even a semblance of progress since I last supervised.”
Draco paled, remembering that he had left both his and Harry’s assignments back at Grimmauld Place in a burst of defiance against his Uncle. He had been intrigued by the idea of behaving more like his old, misbehaving self, had been inspired by the Weasley twins to prove his power and strength through mischievousness, and yet now he regretted the decision wholeheartedly. Once again, he was liable to get Harry in trouble, and he had already been beating himself up over the guilt from last night.
“I...I think I forgot to...” Draco swallowed, hating the timid, scared excuses that he was beginning to form. He sighed and sat up straight in his chair as he squared off towards his godfather. “I left our school work behind,” he stated, fighting the urge to glance away.
“And what, pray tell, would possess you to do that?” Snape asked, voice tempered with annoyance.
Harry began to speak, obviously about to fabricate some excuse that would take the blame off of Draco and put it onto himself, but Draco cut him off, standing at the table and shrugging.
“I didn’t feel like bringing the books, sir,” he said, the corner of his mouth turning in a smirk. He felt more like his old self, felt the first hints of power in his disrespectful tone. He felt like the Slytherin bully that had been able to make his father at least marginally proud. “But I’m sure you have plenty for us to work on.”
Rising from his place, Snape stood to his full height, his facial expression a warning to Draco, a dare to continue the defiance.
“I’ll go get them,” Harry said, obviously wanting to displace the tension, but Draco was not having it.
“You’ve probably memorized our assignments, anyway, haven’t you?” he mused, turning from the table and his half-finished breakfast. “I’m sure you’ll be able to dictate each subject matter specifically.”
Snape’s hands were resting flat against the kitchen table, and they tensed as Snape glared at Draco. The man jerked a hand towards Dobby, signalling for him to leave, and the house elf disapparated without so much as a word. Harry looked as if he were torn between defending Draco, and staying quiet so as to keep him Snape from fury.
“You would do well to control your tone of voice, Mr. Malfoy,” he drawled, his gaze boring into Draco. “A lack of sleep due to...particular circumstances...does not excuse your defiance or disrespect.”
Swallowing, Draco could not help but roll his eyes in a futile attempt to cover up his embarrassment as he reached for a wand that was not there. It was cruel of his godfather to allude towards him wetting the bed, and he knew if any of his dorm-mates had mentioned the problem in that way, he would have attacked, would have had his wand drawn and curses would have already been thrown. His Uncle was supposed to care for him, and yet, at the moment, he felt entirely unwelcome.
“What are you going to do? Give me detention?” It was not his most original retort, although he knew it would have the desired effect. He caught Harry’s eye, and smirked at him; despite his godfather’s obvious anger, it felt good to back-talk, to defy the rules. He was comfortable playing the role of roguish student; he had done it for years.
Snape stood slowly to his full height, his lips pursed in anger.
“I’m not sure who you are showing off for, Mr. Malfoy, but I can assure you that such impolite flippancy regarding my authority will not be tolerated while you are staying here. And, as you once again seem to enjoy acting the part of impudent child, I will be all too happy to treat you as such. Stand in the corner.”
Draco scoffed, plopping down into his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. Now that he had begun, he was damned if he wasn’t going to see it to its conclusion. There was no way he would willingly go to time-out like a penitent five year old.
“Mr. Potter,” Snape said, turning half his gaze towards Harry. “I regret to say that, should Mr. Malfoy continue to disobey me and the rules of this household, he will not be permitted houseguests. Please pack your things.”
“Fine,” Draco sighed, rolling his eyes once more. He scrambled from the chair and yet walked slowly across the living room, dragging his feet before he settled into the far corner behind an armchair. If he had had just a bit more nerve, he would have flipped his Uncle off behind his back on his way past. But the truth of the matter was he was no longer angry; and he realized with a bit of shame that he had acted out for the attention, and that he had enjoyed it, despite its negative outcome.
---
Harry was sent to Grimmauld Place to retrieve the forgotten schoolbooks and assignments. Snape was overlooking his progress, monitoring each assignment in turn as they sat across from each other at the kitchen table. Draco had been in the corner for nearly and hour and a half, and ever so often Harry watched as he shifted on his feet, but whether bored or uncomfortable he could not tell from his view of his back. He had a sinking suspicion that the boy would need a pee sometime soon, as Harry was already feeling the need and had drunk less than Draco at breakfast. Then again, maybe the blonde had pissed before breakfast; Harry had been holding it since he peed through his pajamas the night before, his full bladder a reminder of just what had happened between he and his burly Potions Professor.
“He just wants the attention,” Harry said quietly, keeping his voice from travelling across the living room towards Draco as he scribbled out the proper incantation for a Transfiguration assignment. “You know he only acts out to get a rise out of you.”
“And you believe such behavior should be rewarded?” Snape asked, sarcasm heavy in his voice as one eyebrow raised. “You would do well to punish negative outbursts of energy immediately should you ever become a teacher. Students are the same whether they are eleven years old, or seventeen.”
Harry nodded, but could not help glancing up cheekily at the man, and making a comment to the effect that they simply became hornier as they got older. Snape gave him a warning glance, although Harry was unconcerned. Something had happened between the two of them, something akin to the barriers that had been broken between he and Draco after that first night they were sequestered in the Slytherin common rooms. He was still far from trusting the man, or even liking him as a human being outside the context of some sexual situation, and yet he no longer feared the man. He had seen another side of the Potions Professor, and he knew he had gained an upper hand by becoming witness to the man’s desires.
“Do your work,” Snape said before turning back to his own papers. From what he could see, it looked to Harry as if Snape were compiling a book of potions. The man seemed to be editing pages he had previously put together, potions recipes as well as descriptions and uses of each.
Harry casually placed a hand into his lap, on top of his tensed thighs, although he did not yet grasp himself. Glancing across the room at Draco, there was no doubt the boy needed a pee. He was moving in place despite his obvious effort to stand still, and Harry could see that his legs were tensed, pressed together as he stared at the corner.
“How long are you going to keep him there?” Harry asked, prompting Snape to glance at Draco just as the boy bent slightly at the waist. Harry had a suspicion that at least on hand was pressed into his crotch, a stab of need having hit him.
“Continue your assignment,” Snape said, ignoring the question as he returned to his editing.
“Are you writing a book?” Harry asked, too aroused and preoccupied to concentrate on his schoolwork. He hooked his ankles around the legs of the kitchen chair and scooted himself farther under the table, squeezing his crotch without the chance of detection.
“Continue your assignment, Mr. Potter,” Snape repeated, not looking up from his work.
Harry sighed, setting his quill pen down on the table and leaning back in his chair as he pulled a textbook towards him. He could at least make it appear as if he were reading. Fifteen minutes passed before Harry spoke up again. He had been keeping his gaze half on Draco, not reading but simply flipping pages when he felt it was appropriate, and he knew the blonde boy was in trouble. He kept lifting one leg up off the floorboards and twisting in on himself. His hands were shoved down his pockets for a time, obviously holding himself, but eventually even that stopped working, and Harry saw the boy press himself as far as possible into the wall as he openly squeezed his crotch with one hand. It was not hard to guess what was going on, even watching from behind.
“You know, he’s not going to last much longer,” Harry said, nodding with his chin towards the corner in which Draco was squirming.
“Unless you’d like to join Mr. Malfoy in the corner, it would behoove you to work quietly,” Snape snapped, obviously his patience for Harry was spent.
Harry fiddled with the waistband of his jeans, feeling the hard, full bladder at the base of his stomach. Was Snape trying to punish Draco? Did he want him to embarrass himself and have an accident? It was possible that was the point, that the Potions Master was planning to make Draco see the error of his childish ways by wetting himself, although Harry doubted Snape would use such a tactic, knowing Draco’s father had abused his child in much the same way. And yet, the dark man seemed to have no sympathy towards his godson, who had bent down to lean his forehead against the wall, who had two hands between his legs, grasping himself.
“If you’re that aroused,” Harry began, speaking bluntly because he knew it would draw Snape out of his preoccupation with his manuscript, “I’ll pee myself for you. I’ve been bursting since just after breakfast. But you’ll only make it worse for Draco if you force him to do it; he doesn’t like it the same way. It only embarrasses him.”
Snape’s nostrils flared as he slowly looked up from his manuscript, glaring at Harry in unadulterated exasperation. His attention was drawn from the dark-haired boy’s inappropriate suggestion, however, when they heard a strangled whimper coming from the corner, where Draco was nearly squatting, bent at the waist with his thighs glued together.
“He’s about to do it,” Harry said, willing Snape to see reason. “He’s almost doing it now. His briefs are already wet, I guarantee it.”
He couldn’t help but be aroused by Draco’s desperation, and yet he felt for the other boy, knowing how ashamed he would be once he went in his pants. He beared down against his own lap, Draco’s predicament making his own all the worse as he became nervous for what Draco was about to do. Snape shrugged, and seemed to be unconcerned.
“I never knew quite how over-dramatic you could be, Mr. Potter. I would not have expected it from you, although I suppose your father was the type as well.”
Harry glowered at the negative mention of his father. Why was Snape acting this way? Didn’t he see that Draco was in pain, that this was torture for the boy? He could hear the boy sniffling in the corner, knew he was remembering all the times his father had forced him to hold his pee, all the times his father had embarrassed him or used his own needs against him simply to put him in his place.
“His father used to torture him like this, too,” Harry said, glaring as he closed his books with a thump. “You’re no better than that slime if you make him do this.”
“Leave this table,” Snape demanded, teeth clenched. “Go to your room.”
Shoving himself away from the table, Harry gathered his papers and books in a huff before storming off. And yet, he knew it had not been in vain, that something had resonated with Snape, for as he closed himself into the guest bedroom, he heard Snape’s deep voice dismiss Draco from the corner. From inside the room, he could hear the boy scramble into the next-door loo and, minutes later, heard the toilet flush. The movement from the table to the guest room had made Harry even more aware of his desperate state, and he clutched himself, pacing back and forth between the two small beds which Snape had transfigured out of the previous larger one.
The door opened and Draco scurried inside, his eyes red-rimmed and teary. Harry could see a patch of wetness to the right of his zipper which extended halfway down his thigh.
“It’s alright,” Harry said, prying his hand from between his legs to take Draco in his arms. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Harry could never tell whether to expect anger or despair from the other boy after incidents like this, and so had learned to prepare himself for either and both.
“I hate him,” Draco mumbled into Harry’s shoulder, and yet he said nothing more, resting his cheek against the taller boy’s body until Harry was required to pull away, grabbing himself and moving his hips back and forth.
“I have to go,” Harry admitted. “It’s really bad now.”
Draco took in Harry’s hunched demeanor and leaned in to kiss the boy on the lips. Harry obliged, grateful for the comfort of familiarity and acceptance. Snape may be hot as hell, may be new and different and exciting, but he would never be for Harry what Draco had become. He was simply a good lay, and Harry had no plans for him to be anything more.
“Will you hold it for me?” Draco asked timidly. Harry glanced down and smiled crookedly when he saw the stiffness in the blonde’s jeans, and he nodded, reaching a hand down to tease Draco, running a finger back and forth over the wetness which was obviously hiding a pair of nearly dripping wet briefs.
“I might not be able to make it, though,” Harry whispered. “I’m about to wet my pants.”
Draco kissed Harry again, shoving him backwards to fall on his bed before crawling on top of him, sitting with his knees on either side of his waist. Harry gasped and a burst of pee bloomed through his briefs and onto his jeans.
“Thank Merlin for that,” Draco sighed, kissing the boy open-mouthed as he waited for Harry to lose control, as he listened to him groan and whimper and, after a valiant effort, felt him go still as his pee streamed into his clothes.
---
Edited June 30, 2012 by 222foxface222
(see edit history) |
OKAY. I'm here now, and I'm reviewing, though I'm only going to review this chapter, because if I also review all the ones I've missed, we'll both be here forever- me writing, and you reading.
I LOVE THIS STORY. And I've been horribly neglecting it, like a bad parent... or something. lol
I could get into the Snarry that I've been waiting for, but like I said, we'd be here forever if I did that. Just know that I love everything you do, especially the Snarry..... okay, I can't resist saying one thing about it. The moment in the first Snarry chapter when Snape nearly collapses against his desk when Harry looks at him, and the description of Harry being a combination of Lily's eyes and innocence and Sirius' messy black hair... that was the best part of the chapter. Hands down. Fo realz.
But moving on: fantastic chapter! I loved Draco's moment of rebellion, however brief! Obviously, like I've mentioned before, I really like the hard-headed, stubborn and obnoxious Draco, and even though I really like your vulnerable Draco too, it's nice to see him just being an ass once in a while. haha. I think it was made especially better with your charaterization of being vulnerable, though, because then it really gives a reason for him acting out and talking back. And Harry defending him was great, too. I love that he's not shy about telling Snape how terrible he is if he treats Draco the same way Lucius does. And he's got such a foul mouth, too! I laughed when he was telling Snape that he needed to pee, and that he would do it willingly as opposed to Draco being forced into wetting.
Harry's constant chatter was hilarious. It's so fitting with his character that he can't make himself focus, and just wants to talk the whole time he and Snape are sitting there, like asking him about his book and whatnot. And even though he gets the shortest response to every thing he says by Snape, he's always got one more thing to say. I loved that.
I felt really bad for Snape, though, when Harry was thinking to himself that Snape is just a good lay. I don't know how Snape feels about Harry in this story (for example, if Snape would even come near the word "love" or if he's just physically attracted to Harry due to his resemblance to the two people he's loved and lost), but the fact that Snape has never really had a significant long lasting and stable partner in his life made that thought of Harry's seems so... like he wasn't taking Snape into account, and was just using him because Harry is physically attracted to him. It made Harry sound a bit insensitive to Snape, becoming intimate with him but willing to drop it any time he feels like it, regardless of Snape's, for lack of a better word, feelings (I hate to say feelings because it sounds so sensitive) for Harry. Harry wouldn't be with Snape if it turned out that Snape actually did love him; it wouldn't matter to Harry because he doesn't love him back, and knows that Draco is really the one he wants. I don't mean to say anything bad about your story while writing all this, but I'd like to see more about how Snape's sees their.... "relationship" and how he expects things to turn out between them. In my head, I figure Snape isn't expecting much, because he isn't the Romantic type of guy in the sense that he expects everything to turn out well, and for Snape to get what he wants (in this case, Harry, if he does care for Harry that much). And with his involvement in the war and his "allegiance" to the Dark Lord, I'd imagine Snape wouldn't be so naive as to expect his love (if it exists) to work out. I hope I'm explaining my thought process well enough, because while it all makes sense in my head, it may come across differently to you while reading this.
This chapter is actually relatively small in terms of plot changes or significant content, but is every bit as enjoyable as the others. I actually really like the small moments like this, when they're just enjoying their fetish together. I think one of the best things about this story is the amount of wetting and the circumstances behind it. I can't remember where you mentioned it- probably in a chapter that had no wetting- but I remember you saying that you didn't like stories with wetting in every chapter because it just gets ridiculous and unrealistic (and I agree). I think your story has perfected when to include wetting, and it has most certainly perfected the circumstances behind the wettings. Not every wetting is an accident, which I think is one of the biggest things that makes your story so enjoyable. In fact, pretty much every time Harry wets is on purpose, and if Draco ever wets or comes close, it's because of his small bladder. The fact that Harry wets on purpose makes this story that much more enjoyable than most other stories, mostly because I don't like humiliation and Harry is rarely embarrassed by wetting, but also because he gets as much enjoyment out of his own wettings as the readers do (and Draco does XD). The fact that he wets because he is sexually charged makes the wettings so much more fun to read.
Anyway, hooray for another exhausting long review from me! Woo! Can't wait to do it again! *nods approvingly*
(EDIT)
And I LOVE how much Snape misses Sirius! And that he looks for the intimacy he missed out on with Sirius in Harry. Like I said in that paragraph above, I don't know how Snape feels about Harry, but if he loved Sirius then it seems like this is a hollow way to live the fantasies he wasn't able to with Sirius. If that's the case, though, that makes me kind of sad. Because it's not real love that will make Snape... happy? That's totally not the right word for Snape, haha, but you know what I mean. It seems like it would only cause Snape more grief about Sirius' death, because it makes him realize just what he can't have anymore. I'm probably also not explaining this right, so I'm going to stop now. haha, update again!
Edited July 3, 2012 by Ryoku-the-Fox
(see edit history) |
I kind of can't believe that I'm up to chapter 27 of this story--it's essentially novel-length at this point, so those of you still reading, thanks for sticking with me! I'm going to try to update at a quicker pace--I've been slacking these past few weeks but don't want to keep you guys waiting for too long.
This chapter involves a lot of exposition and not too much omo, but gives the context for the way the boys live while staying with Snape and is hopefully still interesting. Thanks again for reading and hope you all have a good end to your week!
Chapter 27
After a week or so of settling into their arrangement, Snape and his two unexpected charges fell into a rather comfortable routine. It seemed both Harry and Draco had resolved themselves to the arrangement, and, as a result, there had been fewer power struggles displaying their stubborn pride and their Potions Professor’s dominating personality. Snape found himself almost enjoying the company, almost enjoying that his days were once again scheduled in blocks of wake-up calls, study halls, lunch hours, and bedtimes. He ran his house as if the boys were back at Hogwarts, and thus they had easily settled back into the strict order of it all, having gotten used to it over the years. Harry received a small taste of what it was like to be under the eyes of the Slytherin Head of House, and had to admit that it was not all that different from being under the care of McGonagall, especially considering Snape seemed to almost come close to displaying his own brand of compassion during times of stress or concern, particularly in regard to Draco.
The younger Slytherin continued to wet the bed, and it was not hard to see that the entire situation was wearing on his self-confidence, as it always had. As a result, Draco seemed to have days of fierce rebellion towards his Uncle, days he would back talk and roll his eyes and refuse to obey the rules, days he spent the afternoon sequestered in a corner or to his room as punishment.
And yet Snape seemed to understand how to handle the problem with the least amount of embarrassment possible for his godson. He sent Harry and Draco to bed at ten, the curfew they were used to during the school year. Snape himself had always been a horrible sleeper, and had come to appreciate the silence and solitude he found in the middle of the night. Just before he went to bed himself, he would check on Draco, spelling clean his bed had he peed or taking him to the loo if he was dry. All of this was done in such an efficient, quiet way that many nights Harry slept through the ritual, never knowing one way or another whether Draco had wet himself unless he had wet after the 2am wake-up call and found his sheets soaked in the morning.
Harry had been having his own problems sleeping, as his nightmares seemed to be making a resurgence as he slept in the dark, claustrophobic dungeon rooms. He dreamed of Voldemort, of his parents’ death, and sometimes he dreamt that Ron, Hermione, and Draco had all been murdered, and that he was the only one left. But, more than anything else, he dreamt of Sirius’ death, a death he had seen with his own eyes, one that haunted him night and day. On nights Harry couldn’t sleep after waking up from a nightmare, he lay in bed pretending to be asleep, hearing Snape comforting Draco, assuring him, however brusquely, that there was nothing to be embarrassed by, that he had not done anything wrong. In some part of him, Harry resented Draco’s relationship with Snape. It almost seemed fatherly, comfortable in a familial way. And, as the sleepless nights continued, as he saw Snape for the man he was when no one was looking, he knew that he was most resentful of the fact that it was Draco being comforted, and not him, resentful that Draco had been given two fathers, while he had none.
Harry hadn’t seen Snape alone since the first night they had stayed in his rooms, the night he and Draco had switched pajamas and the Potions Professor had kissed him. He suspected the man were waiting for Harry to make the next move, suspected that he did not want to push something onto the boy that Harry did not want. And yet the Gryffindor became confused, unsure of Snape’s feelings. He missed Snape’s attention, the way he had looked at him, even the way he had hit him. But how was he supposed to tell the man this when he wasn’t even sure that Snape wanted it to continue?
He had returned to his business-like nature in dealing with Harry, and the boy began to doubt that anything had happened between them at all. Snape had set up a daily itinerary for the boys, which at first they grudgingly followed but soon came to unconsciously appreciate for the structure and balance it brought to their often chaotic lives. After breakfast, Snape monitored their schoolwork, and would accept nothing more than perfect answers, perfect penmanship, and perfect sentence structure. They were constantly re-doing their assignments, and Harry and Draco knew that, even once they had finished their assigned summer work, Snape would have supplemental materials for them to work on.
After their allotted schoolwork had been completed in the morning, they would eat lunch in the Great Hall for a change of pace, often seeing Dumbledore and a handful of other teachers as well, all of whom had presumably been given some story concerning the presence of Draco and Malfoy. Snape often sat with the other Professors, leaving the boys to their own devices. Whenever they ate alone, Harry had Draco nearly falling off his seat laughing as he made up what it was each of the Professors were saying to the others at their table. He played out imagined conversations between a bored Snape and a clueless Madame Pomfrey in which she gave him far too much information about her simple-minded cousin Walter, who, due to the misuse of a love potion, had gone completely mute although twice as poetically inclined.
“I’m telling you, he’s a clearly gifted poet,” Harry would mimic in a high-pitched, worried voice he put on to play Sprout. “If only he could regain control of his tongue or learn to handle the unfortunate drooling problem he seems to have developed.”
Every once in awhile, however, Snape would inexplicably sit with Harry and Draco, and if he were in a good mood they could get him to relay stories in which their parents played key roles. Harry could always hear the disdain in the man’s voice whenever his father became a key character in the story, which angered him, although Snape’s obvious admiration for his mother and proclivity to discuss her more than the others made up for his bias. The most entertaining stories by far were those about Lucius Malfoy, whom Snape seemed to know almost as well as himself, relating stories of first kisses and pranks played on teachers as well as their fellow Slytherin dorm-mates. Harry and Draco laughed just as much then as they did while making up dialogues between Dumbledore and Professor Sprout outlining the proper way to deal with an unfortunate case of back acne.
After lunch, Snape would lead his charges back to his rooms, where they were required to rest for an hour before being allowed to play Quidditch outside or roam the hallways of the castle. They were sequestered to their room, and Snape expected them to read or sleep, saying a time of rest in the middle of the day was good for their constitutions as well as their health. He frowned on them talking, and would guide one out into the living room if he heard them goofing off rather than resting. In light of this, Harry and Draco had gotten very good at fooling around quietly, and often took the hour of rest for an hour-long make-out session.
The afternoons were theirs to spend how they liked, and most days they roamed around the grounds outside or, if the weather was bad, spent time searching for secret passageways in the castle, referring to Harry’s Marauder’s Map, or, if they were feeling ambitious, simply setting out to search themselves. They sometimes snuck into the restricted section of the library, although neither of them felt much like studying, and preferred to stray to the old Hogwarts’ yearbooks, where they could find old pictures of their parents and the occasional photo of a sallow-skinned, pale boy with greasy hair that could only be their Potions Master.
There were times Harry felt a pang of sadness after hearing Snape’s stories regarding his parents or mulling over pictures of them resting at the edge of the castle grounds. On these days, he would retreat alone to his old dorm room and have a good cry on the bare mattress within the empty room. Even the maroon curtains had been taken off the bed canopies to be washed and ironed before the next school year, but Harry didn’t mind; at times like those he simply needed to be alone.
“Everything alright?” Snape would ask when Harry re-emerged from the Gryffindor dorms, his eyes red-rimmed despite the glamour charms he had tried to use on himself.
“Fine,” Harry would sneer, hiding his vulnerability with the pretense of annoyance and disrespect. Snape would raise an eyebrow in warning, but seemed to understand that there may be more going on inside the Gryffindor than Harry let on, and left him alone.
Snape had dinner waiting for them promptly at seven, and they would eat in his rooms before playing a game of Wizard’s Chess or exploding Snap. By 9:30, Snape would glance up from his newspaper to announce that it was time to get ready for bed.
The three men had grown used to one another, and at times even Harry felt vaguely at home, as if he were welcomed and expected. But he could not help but wonder when Snape was going to turn on him, when he would decide enough was enough and send him back to live alone at Grimmauld Place. He worried he was beginning to overstay his welcome, worried that Snape was annoyed with his presence in his rooms. As the days passed, he began to wish Snape would simply send him back to Grimmauld Place for good, where he could forget that he had ever seen a new side of his Potions Professor. After all, maybe there really was more to the man than his toned body and quiet, skilled hands, and maybe Harry shouldn’t be made to hope for a relationship that could never be.
---
It was two weeks after they had moved into Snape’s rooms, and Draco had abandoned his own bed in favor of Harry’s as soon as Snape had turned out the lights. They knew they chanced detection were Snape to find them together or were Draco to wet Harry’s bed, but that was the point, as Harry had gone far too long without a chance to pee himself, and he wanted to be able to without his current guardian becoming suspicious.
“How long have you been holding it?” Draco whispered, his head resting on Harry’s chest as his fingers played with the string at the waistband of the Gryffindor’s pajamas.
Harry shrugged, not much in the mood to talk. He had decided it would be best for him to return to Grimmauld Place. After all, Snape could look out for Draco by himself. The blonde didn’t need him anymore. Snape hated Gryffindors, and it was obvious he had grown tired of Harry’s presence.
“Dray, I don’t think it’s such a good idea for me to stay here anymore,” he said after a time.
But Draco had fallen asleep, passed out next to Harry, breathing slowly. It was a change from the sleep-deprived Draco he had grown to know while staying at Grimmauld Place. He was amazed at just how quickly the boy had become comfortable under his Uncle’s care. Draco had lost much of the neuroticism he had clung to at Grimmauld Place, when he worried his father was about to detect their relationship at any time. Snape had taken away his fear, and Harry had never seen him so care-free.
Sighing, the boy lay back and closed his eyes, resolving himself to the fact that he would leave the next day, whether Draco wanted him to or not. The Slytherin would be blinded by his appreciation of his godfather; he would never understand that Harry would be better off alone, that he was not made to fit into a familial structure.
When he finally settled into sleep, he dreamed of Sirius’ death once more, only this time his mother and father were present as well, holding hands in the background as Harry watched his godfather die. The nightmare usually ended with Sirius’ death, with the sight of his body crumpled to the ground. But, this time, it went further. His parents came forward to hunch down over their old friend’s corpse, his mother crying and his father glancing around, wand out to find who had murdered his best friend. And he turned on Harry. Leaping to his feet, James Potter ran at his son, an Unforgivable Curse already on his lips even as Harry tried to explain that he had not murdered Sirius, that he had meant to save him, that he hadn’t meant for it to happen. But his words were said to no avail, and he felt his body collapse beneath him, writhing in pain as his father stood, watching his slow, painful decline. And, as he looked up from his place on the ground, his twisted body contorting painfully, he watched his father morph into Voldemort, watched the dark wizard cackle in pleasure as he watched the boy’s death.
Harry was screaming, his body flailing in bed as he tried to pull himself out of the dream. Draco jumped awake and began shaking the boy’s shoulder, encouraging him to wake up, but nothing seemed to work, and Harry continued to yell and kick at the blankets. Draco glanced down to see that the other boy had started to pee in his pants.
Snape barrelled into the room just as Harry began soaking the sheets, taking in the situation at once glance. He gestured for Draco to move aside and the blonde scrambled onto his own bed, watching with wide eyes, worried as Harry remained caught within a nightmare. His nerves made him aware of his own full bladder, and he watched in fear, sitting still on the bed, hands in his crotch, holding himself as he barely breathed.
He expected the Potions Professor to jerk Harry out of sleep or spell him awake, but the man approached slowly, and simply laid a hand against the boy’s cheek, holding it in place as Harry thrashed about. Sitting on the bed, Snape lifted Harry from the wet sheets and set him in his lap, wrapping his arms around him to keep him still, avoiding flailing arms and legs as he spoke softly to him, encouraging him to wake up.
“You’re alright,” he said over the heart-wrenching screams. “Only a dream, Harry. Wake up, now.”
He rocked the boy back and forth as he pressed his own arms around Harry’s, barring him from movement as he held the boy tightly. Draco could not stop babbling on, wriggling against the hands between his legs as he told his godfather to do something, asked him whether Voldemort could have gotten ahold of Harry’s body somehow, could have possessed him. Snape did not respond, all his energy focused on Harry, who thankfully began to stop screaming and calm down, eventually going limp as he blinked awake.
Opening his eyes, Harry seemed disoriented and scared, eyes darting around the bedroom as if he expected something or someone to be waiting for him, posed to attack. It took a moment for him to even realize he was being held, and he looked up with a start to find himself on the lap of his Professor. What was worse, he could feel the cooling liquid between his thighs, understood that he had pissed the bed, that there would be no passing it off as another one of Draco’s accidents. With a jolt, Harry scrambled away from his Professor, shamed to have been found in such a precarious situation. But he was dizzy and out of sorts from the dream, and tumbled directly out of the man’s lap onto the stone floor, where he yelped in pain as his shoulder dislocated.
“Harry, are you alright?” Draco worried, rushing forward to stand over the boy on the floor. He paused when Snape held out a hand to Draco and kneeled on the floor himself, telling Harry not to move, to lie still so as to not do more damage.
Whether from the fear of his nightmare or the pain of his shoulder, Harry mumbled incoherently before fainting away, tears falling from the corners of his eyes as his head fell back and his body went limp. Draco cried out, watching in fear, barely aware that he was wetting his pants, that his hand between his legs was coated in warm urine that fell through his fingers to splatter onto the bedroom floor and drench his pajamas down past his knees.
--- |
Here's the next chapter. No omo in this one, just a lot of Snape angst as he takes care of Harry and Draco after the events of the night. Desperation/wetting will most likely be back in chapter 29, because I love writing about it so much, so hang tight! Until then, thanks for the comments and enjoy this chapter.
Chapter 28
Snape lifted Harry from the bedroom floor and set him back onto his bed, instructing Draco to find specific potions from his laboratory. The blonde boy nodded and hurried out of the room. Snape only noticed the puddle of urine on the floor after the boy had left, and sighed, chastising himself for forgetting that he had two charges to care for, and he needed to look after both of them. He would comfort Draco when he returned, after he was sure Harry was alright.
Peeling the wet sheets and blanket down to the foot of the bed, Snape placed a hand on Harry’s forehead and then moved his hand down towards the side of his neck, where he could feel the quick pace of his heartbeat. He had been suspecting that the boy was having trouble sleeping; he knew most nights Harry was still awake when he came to check on Draco in the early morning hours. But he had not suspected nightmares of this caliber. Nevertheless, the event had triggered a small memory in his mind, a small conversation he had once had with Sirius regarding the man’s godson.
Black had once come to Snape, worried for the boy, concerned that he was haunted by the dark nature of his life and dealings with Voldemort. There had been a fleeting mention of the nightmares before he had asked Snape to keep an eye on the boy while he was at Hogwarts. Snape had found the request ironic considering his long-ago self-made promise to Lily’s child, but had agreed because he saw just how much it meant to the man.
Thoughts of Sirius and Lily had been filling his waking moments since Harry Potter had moved into his rooms, and he found himself concerned with the treatment of the boy more and more. It was uncharacteristically maudlin of him, but he couldn’t help but imagine both Lily and Sirius watching him, expecting him to care for the child in a way they no longer could. It was why he had refused to give in to his temptations towards Harry, why he had kept his hands off of the seventeen-year old and put an end to the midnight trysts despite his pangs of longing for the Boy-Who-Lived. He was desperate to kiss him again, desperate to watch him pee himself, but he owed it to Sirius and Lily to not take advantage of the boy’s loneliness and instable life; if anything were to happen between them he would need to tread carefully.
Snape bent down to carefully remove the young man’s shirt, delicate when it came to stringing the sleeve off of his dislocated shoulder. And yet, as he undressed the boy, the shoulder was the least of his concerns. Jagged scars lined the boy’s chest and stomach, deep gashes healed slowly and burns hardened after years of not being treated. He was far too skinny, rib cage visible. Snape traced the wounds with his fingertips, passing between anger and heartache, fury and empathy. He knew Petunia and her oaf of a husband had treated the boy badly, but he had never assumed the abuse had gone quite so far. How could Dumbledore have let it happen? What kind of person would treat a child in such a way? Snape shuddered a bit as he realized he knew just what kind of monster it would take; his own father had made him all too aware of the kind of environment Harry had been subject to.
Snape pulled his hands away from Harry’s half-naked body as Draco returned, shaking as he held out an armful of potions for his godfather.
“I wasn’t sure which ones to bring,” he mumbled, letting Snape pick the appropriate vials.
Snape nodded to let Draco know it was okay, and motioned for him to set the extra potions on the desk in the corner of the room.
“Go ahead and change out of your wet things,” he said gently, placing one hand on his godson’s shoulder.
“Yes, Uncle,” Draco sighed, blushing. He changed quickly, never taking his eyes off of Harry, lying unconscious in the bed.
Steadying himself and taking hold of Harry’s injured arm, Snape motioned for Draco to turn away.
“Face the wall, son,” he said.
Draco obeyed, reluctantly. In one movement, Snape jerked the boy’s arm back into place. Harry woke with a scream, the pain having jolted him back to consciousness. His eyes were filled with tears as he tried to catch his breath, grabbing his injured shoulder with his other hand as he looked at Snape without words, his eyes begging him to make the pain stop. Snape had not let go of the shoulder, pressing it gently to ensure it was set in the correct way. Draco was shouting from the corner, obviously having turned around upon hearing the boy’s yelling.
“You’re alright,” Snape assured, bending over to take both of the Harry’s shoulders in his hands and guide him back down onto the pillow behind his head. “Just breathe, Harry.”
Snape held out a vial to Harry, who allowed Snape to hold it to his lips as he drank.
“Draco, come hold his hand,” he said, looking over his shoulder to get his godson’s attention. Draco hurried to the bedside, and knelt next to Harry, holding his hand in both of his.
There were a few moments of fast breathing and whimpering from the injured boy before the potion took effect, but soon Harry’s pain had subsided, and his eyes began to droop. Snape nodded, realizing he had not been breathing properly himself. The potion was a strong pain draught mixed with a dreamless-sleep potion, and he was relieved that it seemed to be taking effect almost immediately.
“Dray, come and take this for me,” Snape said, handing a new vial to his godson when he felt comfortable leaving Harry's side.
Draco didn’t question the request, and simply drank down the potion offered to him before climbing into bed next to Harry, who had just fallen asleep.
“Get into your own bed, Dray,” Snape said, placing the empty vial of the sleeping draught on the desk. “Harry’s is all wet. I’ll bring him over.”
With a flick of his wand, Snape dried Harry’s pajamas and briefs as well as his soaked bed linens. The sleeping boy still looked worried, his eyebrows knitted together despite the strong medicine he had been given. Slipping one arm beneath Harry’s back and the other below his knees, he carried the boy across the room and set him into bed next to Draco, who curled his arms around the taller boy’s waist and stroked his cheek to brush off the stray tears.
“Are you alright?” Snape asked, finally able to turn his full attention to Draco.
The blonde nodded and yawned, feeling the effects of the sleeping potion. Snape knew they would both be out for many hours, for which he was glad; they both needed the rest. Bending down, he kissed his godson on the forehead, and, after only a quick hesitation, did the same to Harry.
“Get some rest,” he said, sitting down on the end of the bed. “I’ll stay here until you fall asleep.”
Draco nodded, obviously grateful for his Uncle’s presence. He reached across Harry to take Snape’s hand in his own as he lay with his head on Harry’s chest, and, within moments, was fast asleep.
---
Albus Dumbledore was picking through a bowl of candy when Snape barged into his office as early as he deemed acceptable the next morning. He had long ago learned the headmaster’s passwords.
“Well, good morning, Severus, my boy,” the man said. Snape leered in irritation; How did Albus always manage to make it sound as if he were expecting him?
“Come in and have a seat,” Albus said, gesturing in front of him to an empty chair.
The headmaster popped a piece of candy into his mouth and his face contorted, his lips pursed.
“Care for a lemon drop?” he asked, holding out the bowl filled to the brim with yellow candies. “Sour, but quite the way to wake up in the morning, if you ask me, my boy.”
Snape stormed forward and leaned down towards Albus with his hands gripping the back of the chair he had been offered.
“Are you aware, Albus, of what you have subjected Harry to by forcing him to reside with that pair of ingrates who call themselves his Aunt and Uncle?”
For a moment, Albus looked nearly amused. Snape realized too late that he had used the boy’s given name. Dumbledore had more than likely never heard him call the boy anything other than Potter, let alone become so worked up over some mistreatment of the Gryffindor. But Snape realized that he didn’t care whether Dumbledore applauded his show of true concern for Harry or not. Hell, he had made a point to come to his office specifically to criticize Albus for his poor sense of judgment in keeping the boy with his relatives. It was too late to pretend disinterest, and yet Snape sneered to keep Albus from getting overly sentimental.
“I am sure you’re about to tell me, Severus,” Dumbledore said, putting aside the candy bowl. “Do sit down. You’re giving me a crick in the neck.”
Severus abhorred the way Dumbledore still spoke to him as if he were a student at the school, and refused to sit, needing to expend his anger through pacing.
“The boy’s obviously been denied food for years. He’s small enough to be two years younger than his biological age. You can see his rib cage, for Merlin’s sake! That is, if you can focus enough to look past the scars and old wounds.”
“You know as well as anyone the measures we took for Harry’s protection,” Dumbledore replied carefully. “Mrs. Figg often mentioned the boy’s small stature, but she noticed no signs of starvation in regards to the boy.”.
“That old woman wouldn’t know abuse if it was living right next door. Which it was. Did she fail to notice the boy’s bruises and improperly healed broken bones as well? Honestly, Albus, how could you let the boy live in those conditions?”
Dumbledore sighed and rested his hands on the desk in front of him, motioning once again for Severus to sit. Snape did so only when he realized Albus would more than likely refuse to finish the conversation were he to remain standing in defiance and anger.
“You’re overtired, Severus, what with two students to care for,” Albus said. “The Dursleys may not be the most parental figures out there, but they are Harry’s family. And there were few other options in regards to the boy. Blood wards dictate our choice unless there is imminent danger to the child, of which Mrs. Figg did not feel there was.”
“How many times did you go to check up on the boy, Headmaster?” Snape spat. He realized he wasn’t being fair, that he was trying to pin his own guilt onto Albus. But he needed someone to know how Sirius’ godson had been treated. He needed to be sure Lily’s child would never have to go back to his relatives again.
“Severus, we had a system in place, if I were to--”
“How many times did you check on the boy, Albus?” Snape pressed.
Dumbledore sighed and leaned back in his chair.
“Very rarely. I didn’t think it prudent considering the circumstances.”
Snape stood in anger, fuming as he paced about the room once more.
“Do you know what that boy’s been through?” he challenged. “He’s barely able to look anyone in the eye. He can’t sleep for nightmares. And you can’t imagine what he looks like without a shirt on, Albus, emaciated and scarred. He looks--”
“Much like you did when you first came to us, Severus, I’d imagine. And, I assume, much like Draco Malfoy.”
Snape stopped his pacing to stare up at Albus. The headmaster was looking at him with the knowledge and understanding he had come to expect from him. If he had ever had a father-figure in his life, it was Dumbledore. He ran a hand across his face and collapsed back into the chair.
“You’ve been given a chance to make this right, my boy,” Dumbledore said. “Not only for these boys, but for yourself as well. I believe you need this as much as Harry and Draco, Severus.”
Snape scoffed and crossed his arms.
“Let’s not bring my past emotional scarring into this, Albus. I’m not damaged goods, thank you very much.”
“And neither is Harry. Nor Draco. Although you have all been doled out more than your fair share of mistreatment.”
The Headmaster spoke slowly, the way he did when relaying something irrefutable.
“You’ve been given a chance to prove to these boys there are those who care for them, Severus. And as it stands, I have a feeling you could do with a bit of affection, yourself. I suggest you open yourself up to it.”
“But when the summer ends...” Snape began, leaving the question uncharacteristically open-ended.
“When the summer ends, we will discuss further plans. As it stands right now, they need someone to look out for them, Severus. And I do not think there is anyone more equipped for the job.”
Snape sighed but nodded, standing to his feet. He knew the conversation was over.
“I won’t allow him to return to Privet Drive,” Snape said, his air of defiance returned. “If I had known...”
“If we had known,” Dumbledore nodded, “we would have taken him out of there. As we would have taken you away from your father.”
Severus nodded once more and turned to leave; he disliked the talk of his childhood. He had suppressed the memories for his entire adult life and had no desire to mull on them now. Harry’s presence had already brought back images and situations he wished he had forgotten entirely; he did not need to add memories of his childhood to the list.
He had been questioned by Albus himself when he first came to Hogwarts. The man who had previously been the head of Slytherin had been concerned with Snape’s small frame and the cuts and scrapes he had seen when the boy was getting in and out of the showers. The boy had no friends; he seemed averse to speaking at all unless he was spoken to directly. But Severus had been too nervous to admit to what had been going on at home, and, although Albus had suspected all along, he had only gotten Snape to admit to his father’s abuse years later, after he had become a Professor.
Snape glanced up at Albus to find him opening to the middle of a brightly colored book.
“Nancy Drew mystery,” he said, nodding towards the pages. “Wildly entertaining, if I do say so myself. Though I find it can’t quite compare to the Hardy Boys.”
Snape took the long way back towards the dungeons, needing time to clear his mind. He hated the way Albus made him feel like a child, as if he were someone who needed caring for, as if he were to be proud of what he had overcome in his life. His father’s beatings had simply been a part of life, a part that he had long ago pushed to the back of his mind. Yet he could not keep his thoughts from wandering to Sirius, Sirius who had been a quiet listener, Sirius who had never looked at him with pity when he learned of Snape’s life. He was the only one who had known the secrets of Snape’s childhood, the only one who had seen him cry over the memories which still haunted him day after day.
--- |
Here's the next chapter, as promised. This chapter wound up in a totally different place from where I expected it to, but I'm fairly happy with it. Let me know what you guys think. This mainly features Snape caring for Harry, but there is nothing sexual between them throughout this one. Lots of angst, so if that's not your thing, you've been warned! Things will get a little better for Harry in the next chapter or two. Thanks for reading and let me know if there's anything you want to see included in this story that hasn't been yet!
Chapter 29
It had been days since Harry had gotten a full night’s sleep. His shoulder remained sore after the night he had dislocated it, but Snape had been diligent in giving him potions to keep the pain down as the torn ligaments healed. He was in good spirits, Snape having allowed the boys to skip their school work for a few days as a result of his injury. They stayed close to Snape’s rooms considering the medication made Harry tired and, at times, nauseous, but Draco hadn’t left Harry’s side, and seemed to have overcome any fleeting thoughts that he and Harry should hide their relationship from his Uncle.
To his credit, Snape seemed unbothered by all the hand-holding, snuggling, and occasional kissing going on between the boys under his care. He seemed generally concerned over Harry’s injury, and made sure the boy knew to keep him aware of any pain he felt whatsoever. He did not seem to mind Draco’s attention towards the Gryffindor, even seemed to have expected it in some way. Once again, the boys had not been able to put anything past their Potions Professor.
Despite the improvement in his living situation, Harry could not allow himself to sleep, becoming haunted by the nightmare of Sirius’ death. The dream had brought back a sense of guilt over his godfather’s murder, and Harry felt sick to his stomach at the thought of having to relive the incident in dreams for the rest of his life. The Slytherin dungeons made him dwell on thoughts that were unhealthy. He found himself wondering which of the Slytherin dorm rooms Tom Riddle had occupied while at Hogwarts, worried about the number of dark wizards who had walked the dungeon hallways for years. He felt vulnerable to their energy, as if they were trying to suffocate him.
It had been three days since the nightmare, and Harry was pinching himself to stay awake, listening to Draco snore lightly in the bed next to him. They had gone to bed wrapped in each other’s arms, but shortly after Draco had fallen asleep, Harry had climbed back to the other bed, knowing it was too tempting to fall asleep while in his boyfriend’s embrace. He just had to wait for Snape to come in and perform his nightly check of Draco’s bed sheets before sneaking out.
He needed some fresh air, and he needed some sleep. He had been suffering from a headache and stomachache since his second night of not sleeping, and all he wanted to do was find a place to sleep where he felt safe from the threat of Voldemort. Maybe if he snuck up to the Gryffindor dorms, he could wake himself up at dawn and be back to the dungeons before Snape noticed. He wasn’t about to admit to the man that he had become terrified of the dungeon’s darkness, terrified that the ghosts of Slytherin were passing messages back to the Dark Lord in some way, that Voldemort would soon know exactly where he was, that is, if Snape hadn’t given him up already.
The door of the bedroom opened, and Harry dove down beneath the sheets as he pretended to sleep. He cursed inwardly at the fact that he had not had time to take off his glasses, and tried to make it seem as if he were stretching while still deep asleep when he yanked the sheet to cover his face.
“ ‘m Sorry, Uncle,” Draco mumbled, half-asleep across the room.
Apparently Snape had found him in a wet bed once again. The blonde hadn’t been doing well keeping his bed dry lately. It seemed to Harry that he was having more wet nights than he had while staying with him at Grimmauld Place. But he wasn’t surprised, considering the bleak stone cave dwelling they had been moved to.
“Go back to sleep,” Snape said softly, and Harry peeked from beneath the sheet to see the man spell the bed dry and untangle Draco from the mess of blankets. “You didn’t mean it.”
Draco mumbled incoherently and turned onto his stomach, letting Snape resituate the bed linens and tuck him back in. Harry watched intently as Snape skillfully straightened the sheets and tucked the ends beneath the mattress, barely jostling the sleeping Draco at all. His own sheets were tangled around his legs, and his feet were uncovered as he had dragged the linens up over his head. He couldn’t help but wish the man would fix his bed for him, too.
“Goodnight, son,” Snape said, laying a hand on the blonde’s shoulder.
The man turned to leave, and in doing so, his glance fell on Harry. Although the boy squeezed his eyes shut as quickly as possible and tried to steady his breathing to simulate sleep, Harry knew the man had not been fooled. He could feel the Professor’s gaze on him, and was caught between wishing he would leave him alone, and wishing he would crouch down next to the bed to ask him why it was that he was still awake. After a moment, Snape left the room without commenting on the boy’s wakefulness, closing the door behind him, leaving Harry in pitch blackness.
Nothing made sense. Harry wasn’t sure which was worse: staying in the rooms of a man who was known to hate him and have ties with the Dark Lord, snogging the son of a known Death Eater, and living in the house that had spawned the darkest wizard of them all, or living on Privet Drive, dodging his Uncle’s fists and being put down day in and day out. He didn’t know how much longer he could take living with Snape.
It all seemed too much to handle, and he began planning how he would escape, how he would return to Grimmauld Place at his first opportunity. It wouldn’t be tough to find a fireplace and floo back. But as the thought crossed his mind, he was immediately left with pangs of guilt over leaving Draco, who had been so devoted to him while his shoulder healed, who hadn’t left his side and had overcome his nervousness surrounding his Uncle’s knowledge of their relationship. He wished Draco would come with him, but he knew the boy had settled too nicely into the routines set in place by Snape; Draco found in Snape’s rooms what Harry at times felt while staying at the Burrow. He felt a sense of belonging, a sense of comfort. And he wasn’t about to take that away from the other boy.
Dragging himself from bed, he untangled his legs from the sheets and felt his way along the wall towards the doorway, his arms outstretched in case he walked into anything. He turned the doorknob slowly, sticking his head out into the hallway and checking to ensure that Snape was not still wandering around. A quick glance down the hallway showed that the door to the man’s bedroom was closed, meaning he had retreated to bed, for which Harry was grateful. He closed the bedroom door behind him and began to walk quietly down the hallway, towards the living room. If he left for the Gryffindor common room now, he would be able to manage at least five hours of sleep or so.
“Is there a reason you’re out of bed at this hour, Mr. Potter?”
Snape was sitting in the living room, a book unopened on his lap, almost as if he had been waiting for Harry. Had he known the boy was planning to sneak out?
“I, ah...just can’t sleep, sir,” Harry mumbled.
There had been a newfound familiarity forming between him and Snape, but that did not mean the man no longer expected to be addressed with respect.
“Well, it’s quite hard to sleep while wandering around other people’s quarters aimlessly,” the man answered, sitting straight-backed in an armchair by the fireplace.
Harry sighed, shoulders slumping forward. He had been so close to getting out and finding a place to sleep. If Snape made him return to the dark, claustrophobic bedroom, he didn’t think he would ever sleep again. He would probably start hallucinating from the lack of rest, he would probably go insane and spend the rest of his life in St. Mungo’s.
Snape stood and approached Harry, who took a few steps back towards the kitchen.
“I’ll give you one more chance to tell me what’s wrong,” Snape said.
But Harry was disgusted by the man’s tone of voice. Snape didn’t care what was bothering him. The man didn’t care for him at all. For all he knew, the man had boasted to the other Death Eaters that he had been entrusted to keep watch over Harry Potter for the Dark Lord, bragging about how he had promised to keep him locked under his gaze, vowed to fatten him up before the slaughter.
“Leave me alone,” Harry grumbled, shoving Snape to the side as he made his way towards the door. “It’s not like you care, anyway.”
Snape had him by the arm before he could get more than a few steps past the man, and he spun him back around to force him to look him in the eye. But, surprisingly, Harry did not find anger in the man’s eyes, but sympathy.
“I am sorry if you’ve had that impression, Mr. Potter,” Snape said. “But I can assure you I care for all of my students very much.”
He wanted to scream and kick and swear, and he probably would have had Snape spoken down to him or told him to watch his attitude. As it was, the man lifted a hand to cup Harry’s chin, to look him in the eye and stare down at him.
Harry was caught off guard. What was he doing? Why was Snape acting like this? He stared up at the man, and could not look away, understanding that there was something Snape understood about him that no one else ever had, that the man saw him without the attention of surviving Voldemort’s curse or providing the hope of the wizarding world. The man saw him just as he was, as a lost boy.
Snape placed his hands on Harry’s shoulders before pulling him into a hug. And Harry couldn’t help it. He pressed his face into the man’s robes, smelling the clean scents of medicinal potions which Snape had been brewing for days now, closed his eyes against the tears that were forming, and let himself be held.
“You don’t deserve to be hurt,” the man told him, leaning down to speak close to his ear. “And you don’t deserve to be scared.”
Harry burrowed closer to the man as he began to cry. What did everything have to be so confusing? Why was he always alone? And why did he have to fall in love with the one boy he would never be able to stay with? At that moment, he wouldn’t have cared if Snape were Voldemort himself; he just wanted to be held. He just wanted to feel loved.
“You just need some sleep,” Snape said. Harry could feel the vibrations of his speech through the man’s chest as he pressed himself into his arms. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”
Harry was lifted and carried down the hallway, and he couldn’t help but drop his head onto the man’s shoulder, exhausted, desperate for the moment to last just a little longer no matter how ashamed he felt, no matter how much he felt like a child.
“Please not there,” Harry begged when Snape reached his hand towards the door of the boys’ bedroom.
Snape nodded and let go of the doorknob, hoisting the boy higher onto his hip as he took him instead down the hallway to his own bedroom. He did not turn on the light, but there was a soft glow from the enchanted window, spelled to reflect the moon and stars outside. Snape sat with Harry in an armchair next to the window and placed the boy on his lap.
“Don’t cry,” he said as Harry wrapped his arms around Snape’s neck.
Harry nodded and wiped his face, but did not dare to let go of the man. As soon as he let go, he knew he would once again be the Boy-Who-Lived, all alone without someone to protect him. He closed his eyes and did not let himself feel ashamed for needing the man’s embrace, did not let himself feel stupid for succumbing to the care of a Death Eater.
After a time, Snape stood with the boy and moved him to the bed, laying him down and letting him rest his head in the man’s lap as he stroked the unkempt black hair.
“Do you think you can get some sleep, now?”
Harry shook his head, bringing his knees to his chest, drawing close to his Professor.
“Can I go sleep in Gryffindor?” he asked softly.
Snape sighed and patted the boy on the shoulder.
“How about you just stay here?” he asked, but Harry shook his head.
“Is that okay?”
Snape nodded.
“Of course,” he said.
There was a silence as Snape brought a pillow to rest behind Harry’s back. He wanted the boy to feel protected on all sides.
“I hate the dungeons,” Harry mumbled.
“Did you know your godfather once slept in this very room?” Snape asked gently.
Harry rubbed his eyes as he glanced up in disbelief. Snape nodded, moving his hand to the boy’s back, running his hand up and down to calm the boy.
“He visited these rooms quite a few times, actually.”
The boy knew what his Professor was telling him, and knew that he was admitting to more than just a sordid affair with the man who had escaped from Azkaban, the man who had been best friends with James Potter. He was telling him where his allegiances lie, was letting Harry know just how much he cared for his wellbeing. He was telling him that not all memories of the dungeons were evil.
Harry began to shed tears again, the memory of his godfather too much to take, the fact that he had lay in the exact spot that Harry was now lying in too much of a shock. Snape gathered the boy and set him, curled in a ball, on his lap once more. He rubbed his back for a long time, letting the boy cry until he was exhausted.
“Your godfather asked me once to look out for you,” Snape said.
“He did?” Harry sniffed.
Snape nodded and brushed the boy’s hair off his cheeks where it had stuck to the tears.
“It wasn’t hard to agree, considering I had already promised your mother I would.”
Harry sat up and moved back so he could look the man in the eye. He took off his glasses and ran an arm across his face to clear it of tears before setting them back onto the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t speak, unsure whether to strangle the man right there for inventing a connection to his mother, or to beg him to tell every detail he knew about the woman.
But he did not need to ask, as Snape began speaking quietly of his mother, of the red-headed child she had once been, of the kindness she had always shown him. Harry listened with tears in his eyes, knowing that every word was true, knowing his mother had once held hands with the very man in front of him. He settled back with his head in the man’s lap and listened, clinging to each word, trying to memorize each sentence.
Harry was barely breathing by the time the man had finished speaking half an hour later, his eyes wide as he stared at the wall in front of him. He had never heard Snape speak so gently, so emotionally. Turning his gaze to the window, he stared out at the pitch-black sky and counted stars, longing for his mother, his father, and his godfather, feeling a bit closer to them because Snape had known them, had talked to them, fought with them, and maybe even loved them.
But the knowledge he had gained stung, brought them to the forefront of his memory, and hurt him as if they had only left him yesterday. He untangled himself from Snape’s grasp and moved to the bedroom floor, curling up and hugging his knees to his chest. It was all too much, and he couldn’t process it all at once.
Snape was beside him in a moment, lifting him back onto the bed as the sobs escaped Harry, as his shoulders heaved and he bit back screams. He was a mess of snot and tears, curled in on himself as Snape wrapped his arms around him.
“I...I n-need...” Harry tried, but he was sobbing too hard to form words.
“What do you need, Harry?” Snape asked, calm and even-tempered.
Harry mumbled something unintelligible, knowing what he wanted at that moment was wrong, that it should stay in the back of his mind, that he should not speak it out loud. But he could barely breathe and he wanted it so badly, wanted to escape for just a moment, wanted to feel something other than pain.
“Tell me, son.”
Harry choked on a sob and buried his face against the man’s lap, his cheeks blazing.
“pee,” he mumbled.
“Of course,” Snape said. “I’ll take you, child.”
The man draped one leg over the bed as if to stand, but Harry wrapped his arms around the man’s closest thigh, keeping him in place, pressing his face against the man’s leg.
“No,” Harry said, taking a shaky breath. “Here.”
There was a pause, but Snape sat back on the bed and placed his hand on Harry’s head, carding his fingers through the dark hair..
“Ok, son,” he said, his voice gentle. “Go ahead.”
Blubbering, Harry lifted his face to hide it against the man’s hip and once again drew his legs up close to his body. Closing his eyes, he sobbed as he fought against doing it, knowing it wasn’t right to want something so obviously wrong. He wanted it more than anything, he needed it, and yet the need humiliated him. He shook his head against Snape’s thigh, hiding his face.
“I won’t be mad,” Snape whispered. “No one has to know.”
Harry shook his head again, but knew it was what he needed. As Snape’s palm rested against the nape of his neck, Harry began peeing into his pants with a muffled sob. His breath caught in his throat as he felt the release, and his cheeks blazed with the shame of it all. He wet his pants as he lay against Snape, whimpering as he felt the wetness stream down his closed thighs and soak the sheet they were lying on. But the release was just what he needed, and he melted into the warm indecency of soaking himself and the bed, felt the tension lessen as his body went limp and Snape held him close. He gave up all control, and let himself go.
Snape ran his thumb along the boy’s cheek, comforting him, whispering to him that it was alright, that everything would be fine. The wetness spread out beneath him as Harry twisted his hips towards the mattress and voided against the sheets. When he was done, he lay in a puddle of pee, spent and finished. He snuggled back into the man’s arms, and it was only a few moments before he had cried himself to sleep.
---
Edited July 16, 2012 by 222foxface222
(see edit history) |
Quick Update.
Chapter 30
Snape was taking the boys to the beach. His family had long owned a house on the coast, in a secluded spot where the closest neighbors were miles away. After the nights he had recently been through with Harry, the nightmares and tears and vulnerability, he knew the boy needed to get away. He did not do well in the dank rooms of Slytherin House; it was obvious he was meant to be above ground. Both Harry and Draco were excited about the change in pace, although Snape was still unsure; he hadn’t been to the beach house since the last time he had been with Sirius, only a few days before the man’s death.
He sent the boys to Hogsmede, where they were instructed to buy swimsuits and clothes for the warm weather. It would give him at least an hour or two to go to Grimmauld Place and be back before they were expected. After seeing them off with warnings to watch the time and behave themselves, he stepped into the fireplace and left for the large, empty house, the house he had spent so much time in while within Sirius’ arms.
Easily disarming the protection charms he had placed on the dwelling the night he had taken Draco from its walls, he sighed in the familiarity of the rooms. He knew the place intimately; he could still feel Sirius’ presence within its walls. The ghost of the man remained, picking chips of paint off the living room window frame, leaving food out on the kitchen counter to go stale and moldy, stomping up and down the stairs each morning before any sane person would even be out of bed. Snape didn’t need a pensieve to recall the memories within Grimmauld Place.
Walking across the living room, he peeled back the wallpaper to reveal the cabinet Sirius had kept his most treasured possessions within. It had been a feature of the house since it was first built, although few other Blacks had discovered its presence. Sirius himself had learned of its existence while reading an old journal of a distant relative. He had nearly torn the wallpaper off the entire wall before he had found it for the first time, when he was just a teenager.
Snape ran his fingers along the lock, but could not bring himself to open the cabinet. He was unsure of what he would find. Maybe someone had already cleared it out. Maybe Harry had found it, had taken his godfather’s possessions for himself. He knew it was selfish, but Snape hoped he was the only one Sirius had entrusted with the location of the cabinet; he hoped he was still the only one to know many of the man’s secrets.
Abandoning the cabinet, Snape traipsed upstairs and roamed the hallways of the old house. Everything looked exactly the same, as if no time had passed since the last time he had visited the Marauder. He had felt more like a schoolboy among these walls than he had a man, chasing Sirius through the attic, being locked in closets while desperate to pee, even pulling pranks on the man in retaliation for those pulled on him. Sirius was the only person Snape never felt as if he had to impress; once they had gotten to know each other, nothing else seemed important.
Only Sirius’ bedroom seemed to have changed; it was obviously where Harry had spent most of his time while living at Grimmauld Place. Snape felt comfort at the fact that his lover’s room had been appropriated by the man’s godson; he knew Sirius would have wanted it that way, that Sirius had always had a soft spot for Harry.
Pulling himself together, Snape traipsed back downstairs and, with a sigh, yanked out his wand to spell open the cabinet. Inside, Snape found a few odds and ends, some money, and, what he had come for: Sirius’ journal. The man was always writing within the journal, bits and pieces of conversations he had heard as well as observations and notes. Snape had rarely been given permission to glance inside, and he had no intention of doing so now. He knew the man had some secrets even Snape should not know, especially in regards to his time at Azkaban. But Sirius had always kept the journal, and nearly half of its pages were devoted to his years at Hogwarts. Snape was sure Sirius would have wanted Harry to have it; after all, his parents had always played a large role in Sirius’ life.
---
Draco knew they were running late, that Snape would be waiting impatiently for them when they returned to the dungeons, and yet he and Harry had lost track of time. They had bought what they needed and had stopped for some lunch, Harry wearing a baseball cap pulled far down over his forehead to keep anyone from giving him a second glance. Snape had warned them not to draw attention to themselves, and had needed to be convinced not to go with them in case they were recognized together.
Although he was nervous when they first began shopping, no one had given Harry even a second glance, and Draco had long ago relaxed about being out in public with the Boy-Who-Lived. They were enjoying their time away from Snape and the castle, feeling free and adult for the first time since they had been taken back to Hogwarts. Harry had relayed some of the events of the night before to Draco, although neither of them seemed intent on dwelling on the negatives, and instead joked around as if they were third years sent to Hogsmede for the first time.
But as they sat down and ordered lunch, Draco felt strange, as if the air were suddenly sucked out of the room. Harry was prattling on about what they were going to do while spending time on the seashore, but Draco could barely concentrate. Something was wrong, and glancing around the room he saw exactly what that was: his father was sitting only a few seats away from them.
“You have to leave,” Draco hissed, keeping his voice low as he cut Harry off mid-sentence.
“What?” Harry asked, glancing up at the boy in confusion. He gave Draco a half-smile as if he intended it to be some kind of joke. “Sod off, Dray.”
“I mean it, Harry,” Draco said, standing to turn his back towards his father just as the man glanced over and recognized him. “Go!”
He shoved Harry off the seat and towards the doorway. The other boy looked put-out, as if he were going to tell Draco off for shoving him, but when he glanced back he caught site of Lucius Malfoy walking from across the room, and knew why the blonde had been acting so strangely. He nodded at Draco and ducked his head, hoping to Merlin that he had not been recognized as he scrambled out the door.
“So this is what Snape believes an adequate way to spend a summer holiday?” Lucius asked. “Galavanting around Hogsmede?”
“I...N-no, sir,” Draco stammered, feeling sick to his stomach as his father approached. He backed into a corner of the tavern when he father pointed for him to move to a more secluded area. They were alone at the side of the room, behind beams and tables.
“Your mother was disappointed you chose not to return to celebrate her birthday,” he said pointedly.
Draco continued to back away from his father until he had nearly reached the wall, and fell back onto a bench in the corner. He hadn’t been expecting to run into the man. It had been days since he had even thought about his existence. His throat hurt with the effort it took to speak up, to make his voice heard in his father’s presence.
“I thought I’d raised you better than that, Draco,” Lucius spat, face close to Draco’s as he stared down at him. “As a Malfoy, you have a responsibility to your family. Is that clear?”
The boy swallowed and took deep breaths, hating the fact that his father could put him in such a state. He prayed that Harry had run back to Hogwarts, that no one had recognized the Gryffindor.
“Y-yes, sir,” he said.
Lucius grabbed Draco by the shirt and yanked him to his feet before slapping him across the face. Draco bit his tongue and did not cry out, shivering where he stood. His blood beat in his ears and he wanted more than anything to lash back at the man, to curse him and kick him and disown him forever. But he did not have the courage, and his mouth was too dry to speak.
“Snape better be giving you extra credit for all the work you are doing this summer,” Lucius sneered. “No son of mine needs summer school.”
Draco shook his head, mumbling something about advanced potions work, making up whatever lies he thought his father would believe. He wanted to get out of there. He couldn’t be in that tavern for another minute. He hated his father, and yet the man’s deep voice and sneers were familiar enough to feel like home; he understood this as much as he was disgusted by it.
“It’s just as well,” his father said, turning away with one final glare. “It’s about time you got out of my house. Maybe Severus can give you the discipline you need to grow up and stop being such a weak-willed, pathetic excuse for a Malfoy.”
And with that, Lucius had turned away, and Draco was sprinting out of the tavern and away from Hogsmede, his breath ragged and his face red where it had been slapped, a bruise forming on his cheekbone. He ran as far away from his father as possible, and it was only as he collapsed on the threshold of Snape’s rooms and Harry caught up to him and took him in his arms that he noticed his jeans were soaked to his knees.
--- |
Sorry this has taken forever. To be completely honest I'm running out of ideas for this story so I'm not always inspired to write. Hopefully I still have a few chapters left in me, though. Warnings in this chapter: language, male desperation/wetting (like usual), and mentions of sexual situations (Drarry). Enjoy!
Chapter 31
The beach house seemed to have a positive effect on the boys, and Snape was glad he had thought to take them there. Harry and Draco had become far less moody in only the short time they had been there, and spent their days running along the beach, returning only after the sun had set, with bad sunburns.
“The next time you forget to apply sunscreen, you will be kept inside until I deem you responsible enough to take care of yourselves,” Snape lectured, healing their stinging cheeks and shoulders before sending them off to shower before bedtime.
Harry and Draco had rarely been to the beach while growing up, and they found the seclusion of the oceanfront both beautiful and convenient. They took to the beach house at first sight, despite the fact that their shared room was barely large enough to fit two twin beds. After the first few nights, they had simply pushed the beds together to allow for more space.
No longer was Harry on edge that Voldemort was about to attack. While it was quite possible the Dark Lord was aware of his location, he no longer felt an intense paranoia over the possibility; the open-air and carefree days had placed him in a far better mood, and because of this his worry had nearly disappeared. If Voldemort did know where he was, there was no sense in worrying about it until something came of the knowledge.
Draco seemed more cheerful than Snape had ever known, laughing and smiling more frequently than ever. The boy was unabashedly in love with Harry, and, ever since the night Harry had dislocated his shoulder, was no longer afraid to show his affection in front of his Uncle. Even the bedwetting was beginning to lessen; he had already had three dry nights over the course of their first week at the beach house.
Snape had made hamburgers for dinner, grilling on the back porch because he believed the muggle way of cooking out to be almost enjoyable. They ate at the picnic table behind the house and Snape listened to Draco and Harry joke about just how far they could each swim out to sea. The fact of the matter was that neither of them were skillful swimmers, having never had much practice in childhood, but Snape did not interrupt them. He took amusement from their youthful bravado, remembering the types of arguments boys of their age often took to be life or death situations.
“Essentially, swimming is more mental than physical,” Harry debated. “And we all know you’ve got a few loose screws up there, Dray, so...”
Draco shoved Harry in jest, and the dark haired boy pretended to choke on his food.
“Oh, come off it,” Draco laughed, tickling Harry to catch him in the lie.
“You trying to kill me?” Harry asked, eyebrows raised as he grinned at Draco.
“Well, it would cut down on the grocery bills,” Draco told him.
Harry reached over to tickle Draco’s side, causing the boy to flail his arms and knock over his milk. He scrambled away as the liquid splattered to the bench of the picnic table, and Harry nearly fell over in convulsions of laughter, teasing him.
“Alright, you two,” Snape warned, banishing away the spilled milk with a flick of his wand and refraining from mentioning that they were acting like six year olds. “Finish eating.”
As Draco and Harry ate and carried on about other just-as-pressing matters, he found himself watching the way Harry smiled and laughed, the way he scratched at that day’s sunburn on his shoulder and tossed the wet hair out of his eyes. Both boys were dressed in only their swimsuits while they ate, and Harry’s hair was wet from the ocean, slicked back although pieces kept falling down over his forehead.
It had been weeks since Snape had been with Harry alone, since he had let himself give into the temptations driven by the boy’s connection to Sirius and Lily. None of it had seemed right while they were within the walls of Hogwarts, while they were still student and teacher. But the beach house had its own rules, and he wondered if the boy had been feeling the tension that had been building between them, wondered if the boy knew just how much power he could have over the older man. He caught the boy’s green eyes and did not break the gaze.
“Is that your old room up there?” Harry asked, staring at Snape. “The one we’re using?”
Snape nodded and set his silverware down on his empty plate. “It is,” he said, folding his hands up near his chin.
“How long did you live here?” Harry asked.
Snape turned away from Harry’s gaze at last, in order to glance at Draco, who was finishing his hamburger.
“We spent summers here,” he said, taking a deep breath. “But it’s rarely used, now.”
He cleared his throat and stood from the table, beginning to clear plates and cups. He still felt Sirius’ presence within the beach house. The man had been as enchanted by the place as Harry and Draco were, had been just as excited to explore the cliffs and search for seashells and chase after the seagulls. They had spent one long, carefree weekend on the beach only days before the man’s death.
“I’ll clean up,” Snape said to the table, and after a quick tempus charm he looked up at Harry once more. “You have two hours before I expect you back inside.”
Without a word, the boys sprinted from the picnic table towards the beach, racing each other towards the water. It was just past 7:30, and the sun was starting to set in the distance. Within another hour, the beach would be dark. He cleaned up the picnic table and then made his way back to the porch swing with a book in his hands, and yet he knew he would not be able to read. His mind was too focused on Sirius’ lingering presence, and on Harry’s bare chest, and on what the combination meant for him.
---
“Bet I can hold my breath underwater longer than you,” Draco challenged after they had swum in the ocean for a few moments.
“Okay,” Harry said. “Go on my count.”
Draco nodded, and plunged underwater after Harry had counted to three. But Harry stayed above water, and within moments had grabbed Draco around the waist and was wrestling him to the ocean floor. They were in shallow water, so both were able to surface quickly, splashing around as they yelled at each other, each laughing as they clawed salt water from their eyes.
“No fair,” Draco gasped before being flipped into the waves. “You cheated!”
But Harry knew he was not sincerely angry, and after they had expelled their energy with wrestling, they lay side by side on their backs in the sand, holding hands as they caught their breath. The sun was nearly set, and with it the night turned cooler. When they were dried off enough they found sweatshirts Snape had lain out for them on the porch railing and they yanked them over their damp bodies, not bothering to change out of their swim trunks and into pants in case they decided to swim once more before turning in.
Returning to the shore, they sat where the water met the sand, hoods yanked over their damp hair as they stared at the darkening red sky and fast-moving clouds. Draco leaned against Harry, who wrapped an arm around the shorter boy.
“It’s nice here,” Draco mumbled, and Harry nodded.
They were silent for a time, each lost in thoughts personal and varied. Draco reached over and held Harry’s hand, glancing up at the boy.
“What are you thinking about?” the blonde asked. “You’ve got that look on your face.”
“What look?” Harry scoffed, ruffling Draco’s hair.
“That look you get when you’re up to no good.”
Harry shrugged. “I was just thinking,” he said, turning towards the other boy with a devilish grin. “I bet I could hold my pee longer than you.”
“So not true,” Draco laughed, shaking his head. “No way you can hold it longer than me.”
“Have you forgotten I was locked in a closet for much of my life?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.
“We’ll see how far that gets you when you’re wetting yourself,” Draco winked.
Harry moved away from Draco and sat up on his knees, facing the other boy with his hands resting on his thighs.
“There’s over an hour before we’ve got to go inside,” Harry said. “First to pee himself loses.”
“What’s the penalty?” Draco asked.
Harry thought for a moment before smirking. “Loser has to pee his pants in front of Snape.”
---
They decided to snog in order to pass the time, lying entwined in the sand until they began to feel the first twinges of need. It happened nearly simultaneously, Harry admitting to Draco that he needed to go because they had agreed to tell each other when it was starting to get bad. Half the fun of the game was knowing how the other was faring.
“I’m feeling it now,” Harry said, pulling his lips from Draco’s and laying his head on the blonde’s chest when he lay back on the sand.
Draco nodded, agreeing with Harry. The ocean waves against their bare feet did nothing to alleviate their need. Nor did the cool air settling in. But they were both half aroused from their makeout session as well as the thought of the other needing a wee, and the arousal made them excited, ready for anything.
“Have you ever seen someone else pee themselves?” Harry asked, tensing his thighs together.
“You mean besides you?”
“Don’t be a smart ass,” Harry said, craning his head to see Draco’s sly grin.
Draco quickly shook his head, not wanting to bring Ron Weasley into the equation by relaying the full extent of what had happened between them while at the Burrow. He played with Harry’s hair, too content and comfortable to care that the boy’s weight was adding pressure to his filling bladder.
“Never?,” Harry asked, surprised. “My cousin used to do it all the time when we were kids. I swear he liked doing it.”
“Must run in the family,” Draco joked.
“Sod off,” Harry laughed, poking the blonde in the ribs.
Draco shifted his body down, guiding Harry to rest his head up higher on his chest, farther away from his nearly throbbing bladder.
“You have to go?”
The blonde nodded, unable to keep one leg from twisting over the other. He needed to pee badly, but there was no way he were losing the challenge. He knew he could hold it if he really put his mind to it, if he envisioned his father, if he channelled all the punishments he had received over the years.
“Me too,” Harry said, sitting up and dropping one hand to press the front of his swim trunks.
Draco could not help from plucking at his own crotch.
“There’s only half an hour before we have to go inside,” Harry told him. “Think you’ll make it?”
Draco nodded, but his eyes were closed as he squeezed himself through his swim shorts.
“Fuck, why did I let you talk me into this?” he asked.
“Because you love me. And my handsome good looks are irresistible,” Harry said, grinning cheekily.
The blonde whimpered and pressed down between his legs, swearing under his breath. Harry watched intently, knowing Draco had drunk far more than he at dinner, and that the Slytherin had always had a weak bladder, no matter what he said otherwise to uphold his pride. His urges came on quickly, and as soon as he was desperate he had only a short amount of time. Anyone could tell the gyrations and constant grabbing meant he was about to lose it. Harry was certainly feeling the pressure in his own bladder, and yet he knew he would easily be able to hold it until they were called in for bedtime. He could simply sit back and watch the other boy pee his pants.
But he could barely breathe steadily, knowing his boyfriend was about to pee. He had wanted this for so long, had wanted to watch while he lost complete control, like the time they had pretended to be in Snape’s detention. Something made Harry put on a tense expression, made him whimper along with Draco, made him press his thighs together and hold the front of his swim trunks. He didn’t want to just watch as Draco pissed himself. He wanted to share the experience.
“It’s getting bad, isn’t it?” Harry asked, his voice suddenly strained. “You really have to go.”
“C-can we at least move away from the water?” Draco practically begged. “It’s making it worse.”
The Slytherin had sat up and pulled his knees to his chest around the hand in his crotch. He was wiggling his hips, grinding his ass into the sand beneath him. Harry kept pressure between his own legs as he sat on he knees and leaned to kiss Draco on the lips.
“No way,” he said. “Just hold on.”
Draco shuddered and dropped his knees, crossing his legs once more as he squirmed.
“I can’t...oh, fuck.”
“Did you lose some?”
Harry could see Draco blush even in the settling darkness, and his breath hitched in his throat at the sight.
“Doesn’t matter,” he mumbled. “You didn’t go all the way, yet. You can hold the rest.”
Draco shook his head.
“I’m about to do it all,” he said, dropping his head to stare at his crotch. “I c-can’t hold it. I have to go too much.”
“Oh, Merlin,” Harry said, closing his eyes as he imagined Draco desperate to pee in Potions class, with Snape watching. “Ah, fuck.”
They sat in mutual silence, nearly shoulder to shoulder as they wriggled in the sand, hands gripping themselves as they struggled to keep their damp swim trunks from being wet all over again. The only sound was the occasional moan or whimper or grunt as Draco struggled not to have an accident and Harry struggled to keep his arousal to a minimum.
After a moment, Harry couldn’t take it any longer, sitting next to his desperate boyfriend, squirming about and ready to pee himself. With a sigh, he let a small stream of pee into his trunks, wanting to feel what Draco was feeling, wanting to feel the shame and warmth and pleasure.
“Fucking hell,” he breathed. “I’m doing it too.”
“Oh shit,” Draco gasped. “Here it comes.”
Harry’s hands were wet in his crotch, his swim trunks unable to hold the pee he had let out. He heard Draco swearing, and knew the other boy had lost it, that he was wetting his swimsuit in the sand next to him. With a moan, Harry released his own bladder, hearing it stream out of him and begin to splatter into the sand beneath his ass.
“I can’t hold it,” Draco admitted. “It’s coming out!”
“Bloody hell, I’m wetting,” Harry groaned, leaning forward as he pressed his hands deeper into his crotch. “I’m peeing!”
“I can’t stop it,” the blonde moaned, voice tight.
“Oh, I’m doing it,” Harry sighed.
Harry peed forcefully, letting his swim trunks become completely saturated in his urine, his skin hot with the liquid as the sand beneath him became dark. Reaching a hand across and into Draco’s lap, he threw his head back and pissed himself dry, groping the other boy’s crotch, feeling his stream of pee against the palm of his hand, feeling the puddle he was leaving on the beach as he hardened in arousal. He came moments later, unable to keep his hands off himself.
“I’m sorry,” Draco said after they had finished, breathing heavily.
Harry leaned over and kissed the boy once more.
“Don’t apologize,” he scolded, continuing to grope the boy’s wet crotch, the saturated fabric warm in his fingers.
He knew when Draco kissed him back that the blonde had enjoyed the experience nearly as much as Harry had. He lay back and pulled Draco towards him, and they lay in the sand, their wet swimsuits pressed against each other until they were forced to pull apart. They braved the ocean to wash the pee off their bodies.
“So, who won?” Draco asked as they gasped for air amidst the now freezing cold waves.
“I guess we both lost,” Harry shrugged, pulling Draco out as soon as they were rinsed off. “Which means...”
Draco shook his head.
“No way,” he said.
“Rules are rules,” Harry said. “We’ve both got to pee ourself in front of Snape.”
“No, Harry. Can’t we just do a re-match tomorrow?” Draco begged, arms wrapped around himself as he shivered.
Harry pulled Draco towards his chest and ran his hands up the boy’s arms. Neither of them needed a re-match to know that Draco would lose. Because neither of them doubted for a second the fact that Harry had been putting on an act, that he had wanted to lose just as much as he wanted to watch Draco squirm. Neither of them doubted that Harry had been waiting for the opportunity to pee himself while Snape watched, that he had been longing to act out fantasies he had been harboring since he was a first year.
“I’ll bet I can get a better reaction out of him than you can,” Harry smirked.
Draco sighed.
“Tell me again why I let you talk me into these things,” he said.
“Because your life would be boring without me,” Harry winked.
---
Edited July 28, 2012 by 222foxface222
(see edit history) |
I'm updating at last, and although had planned to keep this going for a while longer, this will be my last chapter of this story. I'm moving soon and starting a master's program in a while, so it makes sense for me to put an end to this one for the time being. I've honestly loved writing this story, and although I feel it got a bit muddled at the end because I didn't have a clear direction, I am glad it gave some people pleasure and a lot of you enjoyed reading this story.
Before this gets lost in the archives of the fanfiction section, I want to say a sincere thank you to those of you who've been reading and reviewing from the beginning. Ryoku: I know you've been busy lately, but you reviewed this story in such depth that you allowed me to see some elements which I hadn't even realized wanted to become a part of this story, and your insight absolutely made this story better. Wolf: you've been wonderful and consistent, and so damn complimentary about my writing. I may not even have continued this story were it not for the nice comments and your wonderful words of encouragement. I feel like you've been my biggest advocate, and for that I'm very grateful. Thanks also to Sev and HarryPotterFan, both of whom encouraged me to post this story in the first place.
Ok, I'm all sappy becasue I get like this when a story is complete and becasue I'm a bit stressed out in general, but thanks to everyone who commented or found pleasure in this story. Maybe I'll start another omorashi story at some point, but for now enjoy this final chapter. It's a bit sappy and maybe a bit angsty, but hopefully it wraps things up for those of you who have followed the story through to the end. Thanks, everyone--enjoy!
Chapter 32
Harry couldn’t sleep. He lay in the tiny room at the beach house that had once been Snape’s, imagining what the dark man would have been like as a child, imagining what he would have wished for, the secrets he would have kept hidden under mattresses and beneath loose floorboards. He had seen Snape looking at him while they ate dinner, had seen the look in his eye, the way he focused on his neck and shoulders and eyes as he put him and Draco to bed.
Draco slept soundly, breathing deeply, clutching Harry’s arm to his chest the way a little boy would sleep with a stuffed animal. He envied Draco’s ability to sleep, his ability to forget about his problems now that they were at the beach house, to place them aside, barred in the hallways closets of Hogwarts. Harry had felt the same sense of freedom when they had first come to the beach house, had not been nervous or worried, but now the novelty of the new environment had worn off, and Harry realized he was not free of his worries; he had simply forgotten about them in the excitement of the beach house.
He had dreamt of Voldemort the night before, bits and pieces of a violent nightmare that he woke shaking from, covered in sweat. He felt guilty, but had been able to pass off the wet bed as Draco’s doing. He didn’t need Snape to know the nightmares were coming back. Something had changed between them the night the Potions Master had told Harry about Sirius and his mother, something that Harry longed for, something he wanted to find again. And yet he knew it was wrong to hope that Snape would comfort him once more; he was unable to rid himself of the conviction that he was simply a boy the man had taken in on account of his godson. They were professor and student, nothing more. And yet, lately, the two of them hadn’t been able to keep their eyes off each other.
He slipped his arm out of Draco’s grip as gently as possible. The boy stirred, but when Harry placed a pillow into his arms, the blonde clutched it to his body and settled back into sleep. Harry bent down and kissed Draco on the cheek. He didn’t know what he would do without Draco; he was grateful for the boy more than words could say.
“Where are you going?” Draco mumbled, lifting his eyelids ever so slightly.
“Just for a walk,” Harry smiled. “Go back to sleep, baby.”
Draco nodded, rubbing his eye as he pulled the pillow closer towards himself, hugging it tightly. Harry grinned down at his boyfriend for a time before standing from the bed and making his way towards the door.
“Harry?”
The dark haired boy turned to face Draco, who blinked at him in the dark room.
“Do I really gotta pee in my pants in front of Snape?”
Harry breathed a laugh, his heart warming at the innocence of the Slytherin. He cared for Draco as if he were meant to be with him always, cared for him in a way he was desperate to be cared for, in a way that was protective and fatherly as well as tender and intimate. He sat back on the bed and lay with his head next to Draco’s, sharing his pillow.
“Not if you don’t want to, love,” he said, pressing his lips against the blonde boy’s mouth.
Draco relaxed into the kiss and his eyes drooped closed once more. Harry saw the boy half-fighting against sleep, and noticed the slight squirm.
“Do you have to go, Dray?” Harry asked, brushing hair from the boy’s forehead.
Draco’s eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head, eyes still closed as he fell closer to sleep.
“I can hold it,” he whimpered. “I don’t gotta.”
Smiling at the innocence of such an obvious lie, Harry reached a hand down beneath the sheet and cupped the boy’s groin. Draco sighed in contentment as he pressed himself into Harry’s palm, relaxing a bit as the pressure of his bladder decreased. The Slytherin was dressed in nothing but a pair of briefs, his skin sticky with sweat. Harry kissed him again as Draco fell asleep.
“Just go, baby,” Harry whispered. “It’s alright.”
He felt a dribble of wetness come through Draco’s briefs, and onto the palm of his hand, but the blonde seemed to know what was happening, seemed distressed that he was having trouble holding his pee. He whimpered and his eyes fluttered open, finding Harry looking at him from his place next to him.
“I hafta pee,” he said, voice whiny as he struggled to wake from sleep. “I’m gonna...”
There was another burst of wetness against Harry’s hand, and Draco gasped gently, his face twisting as if he were in pain, as if he were debating whether to force himself fully awake.
“Just go, Dray,” Harry said quietly, kissing Draco’s forehead. “We’ll clean you up in the morning.”
Draco yawned and shook his head.
“I’ll get in trouble,” he mumbled as Harry felt another spurt of wetness. Draco was half incoherent, squirming against Harry’s hand, thigh tensing on either side of his wrist. “Have to go so bad, Uncle Sev’us.”
Harry smiled, shushing the boy who was obviously caught in some half-dreaming state. He knew he would take care of Draco when they went back to school, knew he deserved to be protected, that he needed to know someone was there for him, someone who loved him even if his father did not.
“You can wet, Draco,” Harry said, “Just this once is okay.”
Whether Draco thought it was his Uncle granting permission, or knew it was just his bemused boyfriend, Harry would never know. Whichever the case, the urine began pouring out of Draco all at once, streaming into Harry’s hand through the boy’s damp briefs and dribbling down onto the mattress below. Draco sighed as he let go, relief overtaking his tense body. Harry saw the hints of a smile playing at the corners of the boy’s mouth; he knew what Draco felt, knew the warm comfort which was coming over him, the sense of wonderful helplessness, the bliss of letting it all go.
There was a part of Harry that knew his summer would have been much less confusing and taxing had he and Draco never been thrown into detention together on the last day of school, but he also knew it would have been another lonely summer, that Draco had shown him what it was to love and be loved. He knew, Draco had given him a home at last.
Smiling down at Draco as he finished wetting and settled back into a comfortable sleep, Harry stroked his cheek and tucked the sheet around the boy, tucking the wet spots beneath the boy’s hips, hiding his desperate, wonderful shame from view. Leaving the room quietly, Harry tiptoed down the staircase and through the living room, leaving the beach house through the sliding glass door. Snape would be angry were he to be caught outside after bedtime, but he needed to clear his mind. He needed to walk in the sand alone; maybe if he walked for long enough, he would be too exhausted to dream when he finally got to sleep.
The night air was cool, but Harry liked the briskness of the wind. He wandered towards the shoreline, pausing to roll his linen pajama pants to the knee. Their Hogwarts pajamas were far too warm for the beach house, and while Snape could easily have controlled the temperature with a few quick spells, it seemed more natural to leave the windows open and let the night air inside. He had found them some old pajamas from the hallway closet. Harry wondered if they had once belonged to a teenaged Snape, sleeping shirtless in the humid tiny bedroom of the beach house.
He had been walking for ten minutes when he saw Snape approaching from the other side of the beach. Harry had a fleeting notion that he should duck into the seagrass or dive into the water to hide, but the fact of the matter was he was relieved to see him. He wondered if a part of him had been hoping to find the man when he left the house that night.
“I couldn’t sleep, sir,” Harry said when the man was within hearing distance. He was blunt and upfront, wanting to create an environment of open communication, wanting Snape to feel they were on equal terms rather than as if he had the power to discipline and shame Harry.
“Are the nightmares back?” Snape asked, standing close, glancing down at Harry’s bare chest.
“Yes.”
He hadn’t meant to say it. He had meant to lie, to laugh at the notion that the Boy-Who-Lived still had moments where he was terrified of the dark, to sneer at the very idea of weakness. But the night was clear and the waves were cold against his feet, and he was tired of pretending to be okay.
Snape nodded. “I have something for you,” he said.
The man was holding a book, had apparently had it in his hands since Harry had stumbled upon him. It was a thin book with yellowed pages and a cracked, worn leather cover, blacker than the night around them. He knew what it was before Snape told him; it made sense that the man clutched it in his fingers as if it were pain and healing all at once.
“I haven’t read it,” the man said. “I think he’d have liked you to have it.”
Harry waited until Snape was ready to give the journal up, until he held it out, eyes closed as if he didn’t want to see it change hands. Sirius had written in this journal, had detailed his innermost thoughts and hopes for a future that had been cut short. It was small and light, all that was left of the man who had meant so much to the Boy-Who-Lived, who had made such an impression on a scrawny young Slytherin who would grow to rescue Harry in more ways than one.
“You sound like him when you tease Draco,” Snape said, his voice settling back to its deep drawl. “Even more so when you laugh.”
The Gryffindor sighed, running his thumb along the spine of the journal. He knew it would be some time before he felt ready to read what was inside, months or even years before he felt strong enough to become keeper of his godfather’s secrets. But he was glad to have it; it made him feel as if Sirius were still with him, as if a part of him had been given back, in a way.
“He would have liked it, me being here with you,” Harry sniffed.
Snape reached a hand towards Harry, cupping his chin as he brushed a tear from the boy’s face with the pad of his thumb. He nodded, and Harry stepped close until he was able to lift his lips to Snape’s mouth, to kiss him and know Sirius had once kissed those lips. Maybe his mother had as well.
“It’s late,” Snape said when the boy stepped off his tip-toes, when he had taken his lips away to wipe his face and look up at Snape, vulnerable and lonely. “We should get you to bed.”
Harry nodded, allowing himself to be led up the beach by his Potions Professor, back into the beach house which may have been the child-Snape’s only refuge from his painful life, back into the bedroom which may have been the boy-Snape’s last taste of innocent happiness.
They stood in the doorway, Harry glancing up at Snape, who remained just in the hallway, on the threshold of the old bedroom.
“Think you’ll be able to sleep?” he asked. His voice was soft as he stood close to Harry, as he looked at him with compassion. And there it was again, the sense that the man understood him, that he cared for him beyond the shadows of prophecy.
Harry shrugged, sniffling.
“Draco had an accident,” he said.
Snape nodded.
“Go ahead and climb into bed,” he told him. “I’ll wait to clean the mattress until morning. Just in case.”
Harry blinked back tears, staring up at the man who loved his mother, the man his godfather loved, the man who had taken him in and had given him permission to find comfort where he could. he knew he was giving him permission to find that comfort now, even if that meant giving him permission to pee the sheets purposely seconds after being put to bed, even if that meant pretending it hadn’t happened come morning.
“You sure?” Harry asked, heart beating. He knew Snape understood. Harry might be able to sleep if he wet the bed. The nightmares wouldn’t come if he were comforted by the wet warmth, by the fact that Snape would be there in the morning to spell the sheets clean and send him off to shower before making him breakfast.
“That mattress has a long history of nighttime wettings,” Snape said knowingly, his voice low, conspiratorial.
Harry wiped his face and climbed into bed, surprised when Snape followed him inside the bedroom, when he bent over the bed to lift the sheet and place it beneath Harry’s chin before removing the boy's glasses. Harry blinked up at Snape as the man wiped the boy’s face and brushed the hair back from the small forehead to trace the famous scar with his thumb. They both knew they would never again find a carnal pleasure such as that they had found the night Harry had first shown up at Snape's quarters, that their desire for each other no longer revolved around misplaced sexual tension. Something else had developed between them, something that would last longer than passionate trysts, somethign safe, something they had both been longing for since they were children: understanding.
Snape leaned down and placed his lips against the Boy-Who-Lived's gnarled lightning-bolt of a scar before patting Harry's cheek and turning to leave. He paused in the doorway, one hand on the doorknob, to look back at Harry’s wide stare.
“I love this old room,” Snape said, but his eyes were on Harry, and his gaze did not waver.
Edited August 8, 2012 by 222foxface222
(see edit history) |
So I tried a harry potter fic before and quickly lost interest, so here's a different take, five Hogwarts students stumble upon the marauders map, two female Ravenlaws, twin brother and sister from Griffindor, and another guy from Griffindor. Story starts at the begining of their third year
I felt my bladder twinge from beneath my grey baggy sweater. I rubbed my lower abdomen softly as I pulled into Kings Cross Train Station, with slight nervousness. My third year at Hogwarts. Two years since I found the Marauders map, and Hugo Weasley helped me and my other three friends figure out too use it. Since then we've become the new Marauders, a band of five mischief makers, three from griffindor, Hugo Weasley, Lisa and Cody Lein. and me, Sara Bladdin, and Annalise Thomas from Ravenclaw. I bit back on my chapped lips as my left hand tapped nervously on my sweatpants. I usually dressed much better than my sloppy style now, but I didn't need to attract any extra attention as I would aboard the Hogwarts express, so I magicked myself to look plain and unnoticeable. My face make up free, a zit or two on their, my clothes, bland and unflattering, my hair black and messy.
My parents stopped outside the Station and bid me another emotional farewell as I stepped outside the car retrieving my suitcases, backpack. and my caged owl. He was black rather small, yet typically vicious to strangers. I had named him Nightlock after I purchased him before my first year. I now put all my luggage in a cart and began my way to platform nine and three quarters. I remained boring and no one gave me a second look as I strolled to my destination. True I was beautiful weather I wore make-up or not, but I made myself less attractive with magic, now the only sign of me being the slightest bit extraordinary was the black wand, slender and eleven inches. Created from ebony and phoenix feather, which I rolled between my fingers as I walked.
Finally I saw the brick arch, on one side was the number nine, on the other was the number ten. My destination was in between. Taking a breath I held my wand against my side, whispering the start of an incantation, in my left hand the handle of the cart. I took off in a run towards the wall, instantly passing through it as I finished the spell. As I emerged on platform nine and three quarters I wore dark blue skinny jeans and a violet t-shirt that hugged itself against my torso, including my large breasts. My face was once again flawless, now with red lipstick, slight blue eye shadow and my hair dark and flowing as the silky hair cascaded down to my mid back. My purple converse were the only things that remained the same as I made my way onto the scarlet train.
I forced my way through the crowds till I found a compartment with my four best friends. I grinned as I joined them, setting away my luggage to sit in the cramped compartment, I took my place next to Dark hair Cody, who also shared the seat with the golden brown haired Annalise. Across from us sat the couple, Lisa who had blonde hair, and Hugo who had the iconic orange Weasley hairdo.
"Hey," I greeted them as my bladder gave another twinge and I eased my wand in my pocket, softly poking my urethra.
"Hey, so I was checking the map and... The minister of Magic is at Hogwarts." Cody said as he stared down at the magical piece of paper.
"Doing what?" Hugo asked.
"It's a map, not a eavesdropping device." Annalise said a little irritably, her knows wrinkling up her silvery blue eyes meeting Hugo's cobalt blue eyes. "We've had it for two years, honestly, you should know how it works."
"I know, I know. I was just...." Hugo trailed off. "Guess we'll find out once we get there though." He said grinning.
The Hogwarts Express sped off soon after that, though the speed was still slower for my bladder to care for. As we began to approach it, my bladder began to physically throb. I pressed my thighs tightly together as we neared Hogwarts, sweat bloomed on my brow as I desperately tried to keep from peeing my black thong. My foot tapped up and down, my toes curled as my hands balled into clammy fists and stayed in my lap, as my legs trembled slightly, if my friends noticed my desperation they kept it a secret. I thought I was going to pee myself on that seat, I felt my ears beginning to burn as my thighs grew sore from pressing them together so tightly. I wrapped my legs around each other as my feet rubbed against each other desperately, we got closer and closer to Hogsmeade and I felt myself grow more and more desperate. Finally we reached our stop, and I managed to get up and slowly make my way onto a carriage. I sat next to Cody and Annalise sat next to Hugo, who had Lisa on his lap. I tried to keep my desperation discreet but eventually I ended up bouncing my legs up and down rapidly in front of my friends.
"Do you need to use the bathroom?" Lisa asked me. I nodded my head and bit the inside of my lip as my legs continued to bounce. "Why didn't you go on the train?" She asked. I just shook my head, to embarrassed to admit I was too lazy to bother going to them, and that I felt slightly aroused when I was desperate like this. I felt my urethra burn with urine on the verge of bursting out. I felt a spurt fall into my thong, my face went red as the crotch of my under wear went damp. i switched to sitting on my heels as we finally made it to hogwarts. my body damp with sweat and my underwear was moist. I hopped out the carriage awkwardly and continued on to the great hall with my knees pressing against each other slightly as I shuffled forward, hoping to get permission to use the loo.
I sat down on the wooden bench between Cody and Annalise and across from Hugo and Lisa. We chatted as I suffered through the sorting of first years, my bladder was in agony and I felt another spurt release and I felt my thong grow warm and wet. I shoved both hands into my crotch as I bounced my legs under the table, waiting for the ceremony to be done so I could run to the bathroom. Finally the sorting ceremony was over and Mcgonagall made an impressing announcement. We would once again be hosting the triwizard tournament. NOt that I really paid attention, my main focus was on not wetting myself. I felt a leak flow out, it slithered down onto my butt, and I felt the seat of my pants grow damp. not soaked, but it would show, I sat up and attempted to look back, I barely manage to see a CD sized stain. My face was red when Flitwick walked by.
"Professor, can I please go to the bathroom?" I pleaded as another spurt came out.
He sighed. "If you must. now hurry back." He groaned. I stood up awkwardly, and ran down the hall clumsily, showing the whole school my wet spot on my butt as I ran down towards the loo. I quickly ran in as another leak was released, one that ran down my thigh to my knee, it left a pencil thing spot on my inner thigh. I was opening the stall door when my bladder finally burst. I gasped allowed as hot pee exploded into my pants, it soaked my butt and left a decent sized stain on my crotch before it ran down my thighs. I felt tears burn at my eyes as the urine streamed down my legs and instantly darkened the denim as it spilled out to the floor and began to pool around my shoes. A veil of urine cascaded between my two legs till it became a stream racing down my right thigh, as more, thinner streams fell between my legs. My pants glistened as urine flowed down it and rippled on the puddle as it met the ground.
Some urine flowed into my shoes, my socks began soaked as small puddle formed inside my converse and I began to cry. More urine fell to the ground as the back of my jeans turned a near black as the hot pee drizzled down my legs and streams fell to the floor. I bent my knees as I began to slump the ground. Urine flowed down my crotch and onto the back of my thighs as it streamed out of the jeans and onto my calves and the ground before I planted my butt on top of my feet and I began to cry as the last of the urine fell to the ground, leaving my jeans dripping with urine and a large puddle beneath me. I didn't know how to clean this up, sure I could tranfigure the material of the clothing, but it would still be wet. That's all I did when I entered the hogwarts express, the change to my facial features were due to my metamorphagus gene. I sighed as I stood up and more urine fell to the ground, now lukewarm. I sighed as I left the bathroom and headed straight up to the Ravenclaw dormitory and quickly began to change clothes, wipe myself clean with a towel and then fell back into my bed. I heard a "pop" as a house elf named djin appeared next to me. "Hey Djinn." I said softly. "Can you clean up my clothes?" I asked the house elf who I had bonded with since I first started at Hogwarts and constantly wet the bed.
"Sure thing Sara." He said softly as he disappeared with my soaked clothing. I found a pink soffe and fell asleep with only my black bra covering my chest in the purple bedsheets.
The next morning I woke up to Annalise shaking me awake, she wore a royal blue v-neck shirt and light skinny jeans. Her hair was curly and her eyes sparkled in the morning light, her pretty face was one of concern though. "Why didn't you come back last night?" She asked frowning, I noticed she had pink lipstick.
"I... you can probably guess." I muttered. My face turned red as I noticed my clothing was damp, I hadn't wet much, but if Annalise removed the covers, my stained soffe and bedsheets would give me away.
"Yeah, Cody hit Jake Harris for mocking you after the whole school saw you wet pants, I guess you didn't make it to relieve the rest of your bladder?" She asked concerned. I shook my head pulling the blankets up to my head.
"Well its not that bad, today's Sunday, tomorrow's class." She said with a little, glee. "We can manage some mischief." She grinned softly.
"Maybe later." I feigned a yawn, not wanting to give way the fact I wet the bed and my pants. I rolled over sleepily.
"Or now." She snicked as she pulled off my blankets and I was given away. "Oh, you peed the bed again." She said softly. "Well you better get cleaned up and meet us at the usual spot." She said, joy quickly feeling her voice. She left to go to our hang out, the perpetually closed down bathroom on the second floor, in which Moaning Myrtle, "lived". She was a ghost so technically she didn't live there, but still. I head down to the baths, got washed up, changed into cheetah print bra and panties, a pink t-shirt and black skinny jeans. I noticed my shoes were washed and dried, I grinned as I slipped on purple socks and put on the shoes and head out to meet the gang.
Hope you enjoy, leave your comments below, tell me what I can improve and if I should continue this story, although I probably will because I like this story almost as much as my hunger games story
Edited April 29, 2012 by Omo-secret
(see edit history) |
Here's the next installment, hope you enjoy, remember to leave your feedback below:) Criticism, support etc.
I headed out of the common room, on a relatively good note. Apparently all the other girls had no idea, I had wet the bed last night. Or perhaps they did and just wished to be polite and keep it a secret. Either way the calmly sat on the purple couch before the fire place talking and joking. I on the other hand left the room for the second floor girls bathroom. I allowed myself to skip a little immature, but I was happy. I was finally back at Hogwarts. I was one the third floor before my day was ruined, one floor to go and I run into Rachel Pent, Jake's girlfriend.
"So if it isn't the little baby who can't control her bladder." She sneered, as she stood toe to toe to me. She was reallly beautiful, short, about 5'4 whereas I was 5'7 and had dark hair like mine, a darker tan though, whiter teeth bigger breasts by slight and more popularity and on top of that she was a fifth year. I rolled my eyes. "So now that I got you, what should I do?" She asked menacingly.
"Leave me alone Rachel," I said plainly.
"Or what, you'll come at me with everything you got? You're talking, alohomora, jelly legs jinx, bat bogey hex, lumos?" She asked sarcastically.
"I know much more than that first year spells." I said stepping forward to have her poke my abdomen with her light brown wand.
"Then duel me, if you are sooo talented." She said in her naturally seductive voice, or at least I assumed it was natural, she spoke to everyone in every emotion with the voice.
"Fine, if that's what you want." I said drawing out my wand and stepping back.
"Not now you idiot, sign up to duel me." She said as she walked away, criss-crossing her legs path in a way that made her butt sway from side to side. "Oh, and try to keep control of your bladder when you duel me," She retorted before heading up the stairs. I scowled at her and head down the stairs.
I stomped my way through the corridors on the third floor, pushing past the few students spending the Sunday around the castle instead of outside or in common rooms. I finally came across the third floor bathroom, the first sign was the puddle of water flowing from behind the door, I shoved the door open and joned my friends, all of which were sitting on theater like chairs they took from the room of requirements. I took my place between Hugo and Annalise.
"Hey, what took you so long?" Cody asked as he used a charm to keep the marauders map floating between the five of us.
"Rachel." I said simply, my voice harsh.
"Oh, sorry... want a bean?" Hugo asked holding out a box of every flavored bean. I nodded weakly and took a handful, I tossed one in my moth and wrinkled my face in disgust. Earwax.
"Its ok... I guess.. I have to duel her." I revealed a little meekly.
"She's a fifth year, how are you going to win a duel against her, what are you gonna alohomora her face in?" Lisa cried at my ludicrous plan.
"I was thinking more of stupefy and rictumsempra, maybe a little stinging hex." I muttered bitterly.
"Five dollars says Sara loses." Cody said grinning. I rolled my eyes.
"Don't be such a jerk, she's got a... tiny chance of winning." Annalise said with feeble support.
"gee thanks for all you're undying loyalty." I muttered.
"Well, it's like this, that duel will begin, you'll wake up in the St. Mungos with antlers growing out of your head." Hugo replied. I sighed and slumped in my chair.
"I can win." I said weakly.
"False." Cody muttered.
I know," I said hanging my head. I felt my bladder begin to fill as the talk progressed, even though I was in the bathroom, there was no way I could use it, all of the toilets were over flowing. I sighed as my hand fell into my lap and I sat up. "So are we just gonna hang out in a bathroom all day?" I asked.
"We can sneak off to hogsmeade." Hugo suggested.
"No ones at the quiditch field." Lisa muttered,
"Dueling platform is closed til tonight and Sara will need all her energy anyway, so that's out already," He said though no body suggested it. "Hogsemeade is too risky, I guess we play quiditch." Cody said. We all agreed and headed out to the field. We took some of the practice brooms and took to the skies. Lisa flicked her wand at the quiditch box in the middle of the ground and out came a snitch, two bludgers and a quaffle. I took a deep breath as I took a dive fro the snitch only to miss it badly. I felt my bladder twinge again, I bit my lip. I should have gone to the bathroom this morning. I shrugged it off and continued to play the game.
I soared around the field looking for the snitch now that I lost it, as did Lisa. My eyes flit around the field looking for a flicker of gold. The game went on for a long while and my bladder was full by the time Lisa caught the golden snitch.
"Hey, Sara, looks like its time for you to duel Rachel." Hugo called up as we landed. I sighed.
"Looks like it." I headed down to the Great Hall where two dozen students gathered around a long blue platform. On top of it was Rachel, dressed in black yoga pants and a green tank top. She smiled at me as I entered, and I felt my hear sink. I was hoping to use the bathroom before the duel, but now I knew that was impossible.
"Good luck." Cody said, giving me a quick hug. I nodded.
"Think quick and move faster." Annalise told me as I got on the stage. I nodded, my face pale as man hand shook at my side from a mixture of nervousness and desperation.
"Bow to your partner." A teacher called, I bowed awkwardly and stood up to face Rachel. "Wands at the ready." I brought my wand level with my head, pointed at a diagonal slant towards the ceiling above Rachel, as my left hand reached outwards towards my rival. "Three, two go!" He called out. Rachel didn't waste any time and I side stepped a hex barely. I flicked out my wand and called. "Stupefy!" The red light slammed into Rachel's shoulder and she stumbled back.
"Flipendo!" Rachel cried and I felt the blue jet of light strike me in the abdomen. I fell back as a spurt moistened my panties. I struggled to my feet and gripped my wand. "Everte Statum!" Rachel cried and I was launched against the back of the stage. I crashed to the ground hard. I trembled to my knees as I faced her another spell came my way.
"Friendfyre!" Rachel screamed and a burst of fire struck my face and I fell to the ground again. Tears formed in my eyes as I struggled to flick my wand at her as I felt my bladder begginning to give.
"Rictumsempra!" I cried, I head her stumble back and begin to laugh wildly. I on the other hand was peeing my pants on the stage. My bladder burst and my urethra expelled urine into my pants and a puddle formed beneath me. I stood up and faced Rachel as urine continued to flow from my pants, leaving a stain from my butt to the back of my knees as I stopped the flow. "Furnunculs!" I cried as the spell slammed into her chest, boils sprouted on her skin as she screamed out.
"Expulso!" She screeched and a wispy flash of light struck my chest, exploding against my breasts as I launched back and my torso was in agony as the skin was singed. My bladder exploded and urine hissed as it began to pool beneath my limp body as my shirt and jeans were soaked I stared at the ceiling as my vision blurred, my ears were ringing when I passed out.
I woke up in hospital wing of Hogwarts my bladder aching and my entire body sore. My eyes fluttered open to find my friends surrounding my bed. "Hey." I rasped.
"I told you so." Hugo joked though it was weak and sad.
"Actually you said I'd have antlers." I muttered. He chuckled.
"The other schools arrived while you were unconscious, the Goblet of Fire is in the great hall, and since the Potter incident a few years back, they decided to let any student participate in the tournament." Annalise informed me.
"Well did you guys enter?" I asked.
"Cody and Lisa did." Hugo informed. "me and Annalise aren't sure about it.
"Good." I muttered, not wanting to lose my friends in the tournament.
"How's your chest?" Cody asked. "That's a nasty curse to be hit with." He added.
I reached down to my breasts a little awkwardly, it stung, but it felt much better than it did when I first got hit with it, and the skin was pink like it was new skin, which it probably was.
"Better." I muttered softly.
"Let her sleep, she still needs rest." The nurse said shooing my friends away. I was partial glad, I didn't want to wet the bed in front of them, which I began to do as I started to pass out. Urine gushed from my crotch into my pajamas as my bed began to pool with a urine puddle reaching from my calves to my back before I passed out once again.
Edited April 29, 2012 by Omo-secret
(see edit history) |
Finally when I woke up the next day I actually felt halfway decent, my skin was still a little pinker and smoother than usual, but it had lost its tenderness. I sat up a little slowly, but quickly found that my body was mostly healed and I didn't find myself in pain. I slid off the side of the bed onto my feet, I was dressed in a white gown that fell to my upper thigh, apparently I had been changed because I found myself wearing a white bra and panties rather than the cheetah print ones I peed in. I blushed slightly at the thought of someone handling my naked body and instead hoped my clothes had been magicked onto me. I sighed and made my way across the empty hospital wing in my bare feet. Apparently no one else had hurt themselves too badly the first week back at Hogwarts.
My eyes surveyed the room for Mrs. Pomfrey as I approached the large door. Apparently the room was entirely empty as I made it into the corridors before I ran into any body.
"Hey madame incontinent." Rachel said as she strolled over to me, with her typical seductive gait. I rolled my eyes at her presence. "Just the girl I'm looking for, Mrs. Pomfrey is tending to a kid who broke his arm on the quiditch field, so I am here to check up on you. I suppose I can release you back to you common room, unless you feel like putting your name in the Goblet of Fire." Rachel said, tapping a quill on a parchment I assumed was the sing out sheet.
"I'm not signing up for it." I said simply.
"Why, scared? Typical, you act tough but when it comes time to prove your worth, you either back down, or get your ass handed to you on a silver platter" Rachel sneered.
"Shut up!" I cried.
"I don't take orders from sniveling cowards." She said keeping her voice cool and seductive. I decided I hated her walk, her voice, her face and everything about her at that moment.
"Fine! I'll sign up, and I'll be a champion and I will be the hero of the school!" I cried out, getting awkward glances from passing girls from bauxbaton.
"Sure." Rachel said as she jot my name down and tossed the parchment on the desk. "I'd love to see that." She said as she headed down the corridor, she stopped at the end. "Coming?" I scowled but followed her to the Great Hall dressed in the simple white gown.
No one paid us much attention as we entered the hall. My bare feet slid across the surface as I felt a pain in the pit of my stomach, but I continued forward. Suddenly all eyes were fixed on me as I scrawled my name on a piece of paper and approached the Goblet. I dragged my feet and held my hands in front of my near my crotch as I came to the Goblet.
I took a deep breath and dropped the parchment into the blue flaming chalice and nothing happened. Of course nothing happened, the champions wouldn't be picked till later that night. I sighed as I scurried out of the hall towards the Ravenclaw tower. I quickly ran into the girl dormitory and dressed up in a black mini skirt, white blouse, quickly strung a short tie around my neck and pulled on my robes before slipping on black flats and heading down to class.
I burst into the potions class a little late and Slughorn glanced up at me. "Hello Miss Bladdin, I trust you're feeling better today?" He asked glancing at my chest, which a decent amount of was revealed, to notice the pink tint. I blushed and nodded before taking my place next to Annalise. "Very good then. I Annalise will fill you in on the potion today.
"Just follow my lead." She muttered and began instructing me with my potion, halfway through it my bladder began to fill, but I shook it off, I could easily hold it, even through double potions. By the time class was over, I had a decent polyjuice potion created. He approved with exaggerated support. I grinned and left the class with Annalise.
"What do the other school students do all day?" I asked as we walked through the corridors to Defense against the Dark Arts.
"The Dumstrang students spend all day in their ship and bauxbaton mostly just hang out around the great hall and around the school grounds, mostly snogging boys who fall for their beauty." Annalise said simply.
"I can see that." I muttered as we entered Professor Malfoy's class. He didn't seem to pay us much attention as we entered the class and took our seats until class began."
"Ok, now class, in light of the triwizard tournament, though its unlikely any of you will participate I find it neccessary to teach you as many jinxes and hexes as I can to fully prepare you, should you find yourself in the tournament." He said as we all stood up. "Now Sara, since you seemed to show pontential in your duel, I feel you were hindered from lack of education, so hit me with this spell: friendfyre." He said. I nodded my head recognizing this spell as one of the hexes that hit me. I took a breath flicked my wand forward and shouted the incantation.
"Friendfyre!" I shouted, a small flame launched at him, at the last second Malfoy diminished it easilyy.
"Nice try, but more power." He urged. I nodded my head at him.
"FRIENDFYRE" I yelled putting all my worth into the spell, a turrent at fire launched at him, he barely blocked it and grinned. Soon he had us all learning the spell, as well as expelliarmus, the disarming hex, Punctum Alica, a stinging hex and petrificus totalus, the body bind jinx. After that it was care of magical creatures and then I found myself in my bed for a few moments before the big Goblet of Fire moment. I sat up as Annalise entered the room. "Hey," I muttered.
She dropped several pieces of parchment and books at the foot of my bed. "Your homework, get to it." She urged. I rolled my eyes and quickly jotted down several answers I knew and knocked out a couple pages before it came time to know the winners and I still hadn't voided my bladder. I bit my lip as we headed to the great hall, I walked with my knees and thighs against each other and my feet apart and partial hopped my way to the Great hall for the ceremony.
Annalise noticed my awkward gait but didn't say anything about it, fully knowing my weak bladder typically bested me, but today I did pretty well. I just shuffled to a seat next to Cody.
"Think you're going to be a champion Cody?" Hugo asked.
"I hope, Wouldn't it be great if I won the tri-wizard tournament?"
"It won't be great if you die." Annalise muttered.
"Relax, know one has died since Cedric Digorry and Voldemort is dead." Lise replied. "Anyway, everyone knows I will win the tournament."
"Or me." I said softly, though no one heard it.
"Welcome Students of the various schools." The minister of magic said. "Today begins the continuation of the Tri-wizard tournament, only this time there is a twist, this yea each school will have two champions. From Bauxbaton is, Ambyr Rye and Deserae Ames." Two beautiful blonde girls came to platform, one was sixteen who was Ambyr and the other was twelve. "From Dumstrange is Alexander Steinkonig and Oliver Remants. One dark haired boy about seventeen took the stage followed by a fifteen year old blonde. Both were handsome and muscular. "Finally from Hogwarts is Rachel Pent." I watched in shock as the beautiful short fifteen year old took a spot between the two good looking dumstrange students. I was in such an upset, I almost didn't hear my name get called. My mouth hung open as I took a place among the champions.
I squirmed as I stood between Alexander, the seventeen year old and Rachel. I resisted the urge to hold myself and curled my toes instead as we were led to the trophy room where we were lectured on what the tournament would hold.
I tried to listen, but I was squirming violently. The minister never paused to check on me, though I knew he knew what was going on. Finally I just released it. Urine began to soak my white panties before streaming below me, forming a puddle, as the pee slithered through the leg holes is flowed down my leg and into my flats. I blushed brightly as I quickly created a puddle below me. Urine continued to cascade between my legs, adding to a large puddle. Tears brimmed in my eyes at the sound of the other champions laughing. But I stayed and The minister continued to talk until we were sent back to our designated areas.
I ran all the way back to the Ravenclaw common room and sped up the stairs into my bed, where I well asleep in the bed with wet panties, and damp skirt.
I woke up the next morning to Djinn on the foot of my bed. My sheets were damp, not soaked like usual but they held a faint scent of ammonia like my panties so I awkwardly handed both to Djinn who murmmered a compliment and popped out.
I sat up in bed and changed into another pair of cheetah print undergarments and a purple v-neck shirt that gave off a decent amount of cleavage, black skinny jeans and black flats., since yesterday was friday I had today off. I smiled sadly as I left the common room to look for the gang at the second floor bathroom. I sighed sadly as strolled down the ever changing stair cases from the tower all the way down. I grit my teeth before stopping at a regular bathroom to take a bath. It was relatively empty so I stripped naked and flicked my wand at the faucet and started a hot bath in the pool like bath. I waited for the bath too fill as I sat on the cold concrete floor waiting for it too fill, which didn't take long. I noticed a bauxbaton girl with raven hair about thirteen come from a stall. She blushed as she saw me naked and as did I.
"So sorry." She muttered staring at her dainty feet.
"It's ok I didn't know anyone was in here." I muttered.
"She started to leave but stopped turning around, her blue mini-dress swishing in the air. "You know... you're not the only one who has bathroom problems... thought you might want to know... I wear goodnites." She muttered before rushing out.
MY face burned as I realized Ambyr or Deserae must have mentioned my accident to all the other bauxbaton students. I sighed as I dove into the bath after turning off the faucet. I tread water as I lounged in the hot water and began to clean myself quickly. I soon left the bath and dried myself off and dressed back into my clothes and ran off too my friends. Sure enough they were there, in the semi flooded bathroom. I took my usual seat.
"So how's our champion feeling." Hugo asked.
"Agitated." I muttered.
"You will get over it..." COdy smirked. "Look at this." I looked at a the maruaders map, more importatnly Rachel's name prancing around in a circle in front of a bathroom, a little eratically. I gave Cody a questioning look. "I got Myrtle to prevent her from using any bathroom." He said. I smiled widely.
"I got you a pass into the restricted section, you will be able to read the books, just don't get caught down there." Lisa told me handing me a card. I looked at it questioningly. "There is a book down there that can give you predictions... find out the first task of the tournament... better hurry, Rachel was tipped off as well. I nodded and took of in a jog down to the library. I slid slyly into the restricted section and started searching through the books. I quickly found the book, "Nostrodamus' modern day predictions, psychic readings for any wizard." I grinned as I pulled it from it's shelf and flipped open to the middle of the book, the only open page and saw a simple sentence. "Three school snitch hunt, quitich field." I looked at it a little confused, but then I heard the clack of high heels on the wooden floor. I ducked behind a table full of magical artifacts.
I felt my bladder twinge, but hoped the girl in here would soon leave. I had the book under my arm as I looked up to see someone clumsily hopping around as she tried to locate some book. She was wearing open toe high heels and blue skinny jeans, and a black v-neck shirt. I looked up at her face to find a desperate Rachel. Her hand fell to her crotch as she searched for the book under my arm. I frowned as she kept searching with one hand in her crotch and one hand flitting across the shelves as her legs danced around like she was hit with the tartangula jinx. I smiled, despite my growing bladder need. I curled up in a ball, hoping she would give up, but she continued to search much to my dismay.
After nearly an hour of her checking every shelf and my limbs falling asleep she stood in the middle of the room in anguish with her heels off as she danced around trying not to pee. I watched with glee as a dakr patch greew on her butt and slowly streamed down her legs towards the ground. Streams of urine fell to the ground as she double over and soaked her calves and the wooden floor, leaving a puddle. I grinned to myself as the completely soaked her jeans and began to cry. I took this as my move to sneak out slyly, but just as I got near the door of the room when something slammed into my back and I was immobolized.
"Hey bitch." She said harshly, for once not using her seductive voice. I couldn't reply as she dragged me behind a bookshelf. "You will be frozen for two hours, I think, maybe more. Have fun." She said simply and left in her urine soaked jeans. |
The only muscle I could control was my eyes as I peered to my right from my hiding place and noticed the Librarian scourgify the puddle of urine and take the prediction book back too its shelf. And completely ignore my presence. "Stupid girl, did she really think because she was a champion she wouldn't be caught in the restricted section?" The librarian asked thin air as she left the section of the librarian, leaving me alone in the restricted section for two hours. Fortunately the immobilization kept me from wetting myself, however it didn't stop my bladder from filling. By the time the paralysis wore off my bladder was swollen and my stomach bulged slightly. The moment I stood up, with my stiff joints I doubled over from the pain of my bladder. some sort of snake head fell off my neck, probably a weasley gadget. I ignored it though to tend to my bladder. I grabbed my crotch as a spurt spilled out. I gasped and bit my lip from my position still hunched over and kicked my legs until I managed to gain enough control.
I actually managed to sneak out past the already irritated librarian despite my legs trembling wildly. The second I stepped out of the bathroom I took off in a clumsy run to the nearest bathroom, only to find it nearly flooded. I cursed under my breath. "Myrtle, you couldn't clean up your mess?" I sighed. I knew at the very least the Ravenclaw bathroom wouldn't be flooded. I sprinted to the west of the building with my hands in my crotch while students snickered around me I took up the stairs and paused outside the door way.
"What do a raven and a writing desk have in common?" The bronze knocker asked me. I paused, my eyes wide. I didn't know the question to this. I danced in front of the door, desperately trying to not pee myself. I must have spent three minutes pacing, dancing, kicking my legs, jumping up and down, doubling over, all while holding my crotch before the answer came to me.
"They both produce quite flat notes." I all but shouted.
"Acceptable." The door opened and I rushed in and stormed up to the bathroom where I fought against my skinny jeans to get off before I fell onto the toilet with my panties still on when my bladder burst. Instantly soaking my cheetah print underwear, and the floor beneath me, where the urine emerged before I sat down. The urine spilling into the toilet was the most amazing relief I had ever felt as my bladder began to shrink down to its normal size and urine squirmed between the leg holes of my underwear and streamed through the cloth into the toilet before I finally got entire relief.
I stood up awkwardly in my wet panties before slipping them off my leg and putting on my skinny jeans. I wrung out the panties as best as I could before shoving them in my back pocket and rushing up to my bed. I pulled the curtains around me and waited for the familiar "pop"
Djinn, can you takes these?" I asked holding out the panties for him. He nodded and smiled before disappearing. I sighed as I fell back onto my bed, it was only early evening but I had no idea what to do. I sighed as I stared up at the ceiling when I heard footsteps rushing up the staircase before Annalise leaped on my bed through the curtains.
"You're ok!" She exclaimed, "We couldn't get to you! The librarian had an extra eye on the restricted section, so we had to wait. It was terrible. you just stood there, we thought you were dying." Annalise said.
"Rachel isn't that evil." I laughed. "She hit me with a snake head toy thing, it paralyzed me, but its ok now." I said, some reason I felt a lot better. It might have something to do with Rachel losing control of her voice for once. I smiled as Annalise led me down to the bathroom where I took my seat, before realizing I still didn't have any underwear. I blushed slightly before regaining myself.
"We could get the invisibility cloak from James." Hugo suggested.
"No, Harry made us swear to leave him out of our messes when he caught us last year, that's the only reason he gave us the map. Besides he's only a first year, if we borrow the cloak, he's gonna beg us to let him come along." Cody said.
"Fred might be able to get his dad to make us something." Hugo said, referring to his cousin.
"Not in time." Lisa added while I sat there oblivious to what was going on.
"Wait! If Harry really wanted James to stay out of trouble, why would he give him the cloak?"
"Our messes, James is free to cause his own messes, just as long as he stays clear of us trouble makers." Cody said simply.
"I'd really just like to know what's going on."
"We need to get a cloak, it would get us in the Slytherin Dormitories so we can cause some trouble.
"Guys, relax... we need to focus on getting me a broom for the first challenge, its some sort of quiditch match." I said.
"Fine, but George is still sending us a cloak." Hugo said.
"Great, can he loan me a dragon fire as well?"
"... I dunno." Hugo admitted. He pulled out a few redvines though and began to eat the candies while we discussed the first tournament.
I may add another installment later tonight. Hope you enjoy this one for now
Edited May 1, 2012 by Omo-secret
(see edit history) |
A week later the day of the first challenge I sat in the champions tent nervously. I tapped my wand on my thigh and eyed a simple practice broom. Nightlock hadn't come back with the Dragon Fire broomstick yet and it was a half hour before the challenge. I bit my lip softly as my bladder began to fill, I knew I should go to the bathroom now but I didn't. I stayed and soon there was five minutes before the challenge and my legs were bouncing much to the amusement of Rachel.
Suddenly a tall red headed figure entered the tent with a broomstick. "Right at the nick of time, George Weasley saves the day." The founder of Weasley Wizard Wheezes marched in with my broomstick with an ear to ear grin. "Well hello little lady." He said tossing me my broom and taking a seat next to me.
I stared at him confused for a moment. "Hey... George." I had seen him a couple times when I had visited his shop on Diagon Alley. Otherwise we were virtual strangers.
"Hey, so here's the thing. I hear you have stumbled upon my map?" He asked. "Technically Harry's." He added.
I nodded. "I need to make sure someone can keep up my legacy, and you know make mischief."
"I solemnly swear, I am up to no good." I smirked. He smiled.
"Cute... but I meant Fred. I know you guys cause enough trouble on your own, but I need to set up shop here in Hogwarts. Filch won't let anyone in with any of my merchandise, but if Fred can keep shop in the room of requirements..." He trailed off.
"Hogwarts gets a bit more exciting and no one could find him out with our help and we get free merchandise." I said adding the last part.
"Fine deal, but he will need the map."
"... I'll talk to Cody about it." I said as the cannon boomed and the challenge began.
I gracefully grabbed the broom and took to the skies on the quidditch field. The field itself remained unaltered, but in the skies were floating spike balls I recognized as mines and a few Rocs, which looked like large vicious eagles with teeth and bludgers shot through the air. The minister stood below in the center of the field.
"The object of this challenge is too catch one of six snitches, each will hold the only hint of the next challenge, without it, its impossible to find the next challenge as it will play the role of a secret keeper. The fastest snitch will be the easiest to open, the slowest the most difficult. The winner of this tournament must simply catch the first snitch. That being said the fastest snitch will be the golden snitch, the second will be silver, the third bronze, the fourth red, fifth blue and sixth green. wands are allowed, no unforgivable curses. Begin." He cried as six snitches shot through the air. I quickly found the fastest and shot through the air after it. Rachel caught up to me in seconds, she had a dragon fire as well. I growled.
"Well hello there." She said, her voice thick with sarcasm. "Impendamenta!" She cried simply and I felt my broom get knocked sideways through the air as I felt my arm grow sore where the spell hit me as I struggled to regain control of both my broom and my bladder. I felt urine drip from my pant leg to the ground as I shot after Rachel when I heard the first winner catch the snitch, it was Deserae catching the slowest snitch. I frowned as I came close to catching up to Rachel.
"Incindio." I muttered as I flicked my wand at her broom, causing the back to burst into flames. She spun through the air frantically as she used a jet of water from her wand to extinguish the flames. I shot after The snitch when I came to close to a mine. I felt my body launch through the air, as sparks and tiny stones exploded at me. My legs were tightly wrapped around my broom when I leaked again. leaving a significant wet spot from my butt to beneath my knees.
I barely managed to gain control after I flew after the snitch, dodging a bludger when I felt another spell from Rachel caught me in my lower back. I felt my back erupt in pain from the boil hex I used on Rachel previously.
"Friendfyre." I said slashing my wand back. Flames missed Rachel's beautiful face. Much to my dismay, however a Roc swooped down and attacked her hair.
"Reducto!" I heard Alexander cry when I felt my face explode with pain as I hurtled through air once again before I gained control of my broom. My body was covered in bruises and welts, and thanks to Rachel, boils as well as my pants being wet and my bladder still being bursting, but I continued to pursue the snitch until Rachel managed to cast the hurling hex and I found my broom trying to buck me off. The broom flew up and down, the handle burying itself into my groin, I tried to hold on, but I felt my bladder burst. Urine soaked my jeans from nearly every angle and soaked the handle before I found myself slipping from the broom and hurtling towards the ground, with a stream of urine falling behind me. I Aimed my wand at my broom. "Accio br-" A bludger slammed into my arm and I felt my bone break as my wand was hurtled through the air.
With my left hand I grasped through the air for anything to break my fall when I caught a hold of something small and round before slamming to the earth and losing consciousness.
I woke up the next morning in the hospital wing again, I felt ten times better, but I quickly became aware of a warm dampness spreading beneath my butt and weight on my shins. I sat up and found Rachel sitting on legs, while I felt urine slowly slip from my urethra, but I was unable to stop the incredibly slow flow. It seamed like a few drops were let out at one time continously, stalling the end of the flow. I clenched my legs, but I didn't seem to have any control over my bladder. I decided to train my thoughts on my other problem.
"What do you want Rachel?" I asked the girl who sat on my legs, dressed in a black frilly skirt, that ended at her upper thigh and a navy blue spaghetti top that revealed a decent amount of cleavage. I eyed her suspiciously while urine slowly creeped out of my urethra, and warm continued to spread.
"How ever did you win second in that challenge. Lady luck shouldn't be that kind to you." She said as she laid back across the side of the matress with her head and feet dangling.
"I what?" I asked as my hand drifted to my crotch.
"Blimey, you didn't even know you won. Look to your left." She said. I turned to the left, causing a bit more urine to spill out before noticing the silver snitch fluttering on the bed stand. I grinned until Rachel started crawling up the bed, her hand falling in the wet patch next to my waist. "Wet the bed muc- oh Blimey you're peeing now!" She cried jumping back as a stream of urine splattered on her hand. "Control yourself!" She cried leaping off the bed examining her moist hand. But in that short instant she leapt I caught sight of something that brought a smile to my face. I caught her hand as she turned to leave and pulled her back.
"What are you doing!" She cried as I grabbed the hem of her skirt and pulled it down to the floor, revealing an adult diaper.
"Wet yourself much?"
"Not since the Myrtle incident, I wear it to be safe now from your immature humor." She said hiking up her skirt, before turning to leave.
I grasped the back of the skirt and lifted it up, "Diffindo." I said, severing the bonds of the diaper as I let the skirt flutter back while she turned around quickly amd panicked. the diaper fell to the floor between her feet.the inside smelling of urine and yellowed.
Her wand was against my throat in an instant. "I wanted to be the first thing you saw, so yes I did pee in it, but only cause I was wearing it either way and I wanted to make your waking moment hell. Tell any one and I swear I'll kill you." She hissed in my ear. My urine flow was no longer slow, Urine soaked through the covers and spilled over the side of the bed I was nearest to.
"You have my word." I tried to sound sarcastic but it came out meek and pathetic. He thrust her legs up on the bed and straddled my body.
Her wand now in my face she regained her seductive voice as her butt hung just above my lower abdomen. "You better keep your word, they may not have a spell voiding your bladder discreetly, but they certainly have one for making it weaker. She said as a stream of urine spilled onto my chest from her crotch and I squealed as urine soaked my night gown around my breasts and slithered around my neck and wet my hair.
That was unnecessary." I mumbled, for the first time. since my first year, I was geniunily intimidated by Rachel.
"Maybe, I thought it was funny, besides I still needed to urinate, I couldn't void my entire bladder without it soaking through my diaper." She said getting off the bed. "Have fun explaining this. Oh by the way, I need you to make an unbreakable vow if you want me to leave you alone. Swear not to tell anyone about my diaper situation." We quickly went through the ceremony and she left, clearly the better in the situation. She kicked the diaper beneath my bed as she made her way to the door and disappeared into the corridors. Djinn popped up next to me, quickly examined the situation and cleaned up the sheets, and my clothes, leaving me curled up in a blanket from the next bed, completely naked on the other side of the mattress since I flipped the wet side over.
Hope you like the above installment, please leave your commentary, criticism etc. Trolls Welcome;P but pleeeeeaasssse leave a comment, I'm desperate... in both way;) |
It felt like I had been balled up for hours before Djinn returned with my school clothes. Before handing me them, he snapped his fingers and applied a minor cleansing charm on my body before popping out. A black cropped vest, with a ravenclaw image on the left breast,that I placed over a black bra, showing off a decent amount of my cleavage and midriff. I slipped on black panties and a black pleated miniskirt and thin black pantyhose as well as plain black flats before I left to go to class. As I got up to leave the silver snitch fluttered up in the air and trailed behind me, I grinned slightly and headed for DADA.
The snitch fluttered behind me all the way to Malfoy's class. Right before stepping in the door its wings folded and it fell into my hand. I pocketed cautiously before entering the class and taking a seat next to Lisa and Annalise. Lisa wore a gold shirt that hugged her figure and black pants and Annalise wore a similar grey shirt and black skirt and long grey socks. I seemed to have the most provocative costume of the them.
"Hey, are you ok?" Annalise asked, referring to my fall from yesterday. I nodded softly, a little shaken up from earlier.
"Good, because we have to figure out how to open the snitch." Lisa said before class began.
"Ok class, we will learn the wizard hover charm to keep wizards from splatting to the ground or simply knocking themselves out." Draco said, casting a good-humored grin my way, causing a few giggles and me to blush. I sighed as the class continued on and my bladder began to fill. The day passed mostly uneventfully until lunch.
"Can we go too hogsmeade?" I asked as I took a seat next to Cody and Lisa. I squirmed slightly and curled my toes, but ignored my bladder.
"Now?" Cody asked me.
"Of course not, after our last class." I replied irritably.
"Whoa, know need to be harsh." Hugo laughed. I sighed and rolled my eyes, my mind continuously going back to what Rachel did to me. I shuddered slightly.
"We need to figure out your snitch first." Annalise pointed out.
"We can do that later!" I sighed eating my lunch quickly before the period ended and we headed to herbology with Neville. The class was typically easy, but with my bursting bladder I nearly drowned a mandrake. I struggled through class and afterwords I sprinted to the bathroom only to have Jake Harris block my path.
"Well hello there." He said slinking forward. He had short dirty blonde hair and a large birth mark taking up half his face, and something about his nose gave his face a reptilian look too it. He was tall and carried a wand of yew in his right hand. He wore a green blazer and black pants. His coppery eyes bore into my own and I looked around. As much as I hated to admit it, he had a strange handsomeness to him I couldn't explain.
"Move Jake." I muttered.
"Say the magic words." He said.
"Please and thank you." I muttered a little agitated.
"Sorry, I was looking for locomotor stud." He said smirking as he stepped up to me. I rolled my eyes and stepped back, now stepping from foot to foot. "However I can escort you to your double potions class." He said locking arms with me, and dragging me to class, I couldn't resist and found myself thrust into the class.
"And here comes our champion now!" Slughorn cheered lamely as I took my usual seat next to Annalise. I found my butt sliding from side to side and I pressed my legs together tightly.
Class proceeded and I struggled to match the potion, fortunately Annalise was there to help me, though she seemed to grow annoyed. I shrugged weakly and tried to help her, only succeeding in nearly adding an ingredient that would blow up the cauldron.
"What's wrong with you? Are you a ravenclaw or a hufflepuff."
"What the hell's a hufflepuff?" I joked. A running gag between us, though now it was forced as I tried not to pee myself. Class continued despite my constant mumbling of an incantation of my own creation designed to speed up time. Needless to say it didn't work and neither did my attempt to hold my bladder. Finally my urethra let the urine drip out. Hot pee sprayed out and soaked the butt of my skirt and formed my puddle. Some streams of the urine cascaded downwards but I managed to catch control and stopped the flow. Thankfully no one noticed and I continued to work on the potion while sitting in a puddle of rapidly cooling urine. I managed to pick up my slack and me and Annalise made a decent potion. After class ended I lingered in my seat for a moment, till the class was mostly empty and stood up slowly, my skirt dripped urine but the wet patch blended with the dark fabric, so as long as no one came close I could get away with everything.
Of course things rarely go the way we want and Fred caught me going up towards the ravenclaw dorm. He had a slight tan and reddish brown hair, but through and through he was a near dead ringer for his father. I smiled softly.
"Hey... can I ask you something?" He asked, his voice lacking his usual confidence.
"Yeah... in a sec... I have to go." I said and ran past him. I mad it all the way to the door before I was stopped again.
"Hey Sara, we are going to hogsmeade. Come on." Annalise said grabbing my wrist.
"But I got to..." i trailed off, too embarrassed to admit I wet myself, so I just hung my head and followed. Soon I found myself in honeydukes, my bladder was ignored as I strolled through the shop looking for fizzing whizzbees. By the time I had a decent bag full of sweets and we were heading to the three broomsticks, my bladder made itself noticed and I remembered leaving Fred in the halls. I hung my head sadly. I took a seat on a wooden stool and ordered a butterbeer. I drank it slowly while we talked.
"So what do you think will open the snitch?" Lisa asked me. I shook my head.
"I dunno honestly, the faster snitch simply opened at a touch, mine should be just a tiny bit simpler." I muttered softly.
"Well are you a ravenclaw or not?" Cody asked me incredulously.
"I am, uhm maybe..." I trailed off as both heads launched into my crotch as urine leaked out of my urethra, and the front of the skirt glistened with warm pee as I made another puddle in my seat. I gasped.
"What's wrong?" Hugo asked,
"Nothing, let's just get back to Hogwarts." Annalise said quickly, catching on. She ushered the group out and helped me off the seat. "Go to the bathroom, I'll tell them we'll meet them at dinner." Annalise said. I nodded and rushed to the bathroom. I quickly burst into an empty stall and just before I could pull down my clothes my bladder burst right in front of the toilet. I cried out as urine snaked its way down my legs and fell in streams between my legs. The warmth was welcoming in the bathroom, but the means of achieving it was mortifying. I squealed as a puddle began to grow on the grow below me, slithering in the other stalls where I heard another girl cry out. My face grew red as I ran back to the castle, rushing past the marauders.
I was hurtling through the halls when a strong arm caught me by the shoulder.
"Whoa where are you..." George's voice trailed off. I heard a sad sigh as he continued on. "going so fast?" He asked.
"uh..I'm.." I muttered.
"Well about the map. I shouldn't have asked you that. I already have several security precautions around the school. It's all taken care of. But, see here's the thing. Fred's good at making jokes, not so good at school. Could you tutor him... he's too embarrassed to ask you himself. Can you do that?"
"Yeah sure." I smiled despite my legs being cold and clear drops falling between my legs. There was a coaster sized puddle under me, but he didn't notice.
"Good. Anyway... good luck mate." He said smiling before leaving down the hall. I grinned softly before running up to Ravenclaw tower.
Watcha think so far? Leave your comments, criticism support below. Thank you:) |
I quickly replaced my panties with purple ones, and then pulled on a pair of black skinny jeans. I quickly became glad that the house elves cleaned things so quickly, otherwise I would be running low on clothes. Fortunately they kept up with there work and I slipped on my purple converse since the flats were still wet with urine. I sighed as I headed back down the stairs. I'd have to own up to the marauders soon. I jogged down the stairs when peeves blocked my way holding my wet panties.
"Forget to put away these?" He asked with sadistic glee.
"Peeves! Give them back!" I cried as a ran after the short poltergeist.
"Make me!" He cried as he flew down the stairs. I began to chase after him, while other students snickered around me. I chased him down a staircase and nearly caught up to him when I got caught in a disappearing stair step.
"Hey, help!" I cried as I tried to free myself, unfortunately the other students just pushed past me.
"Right on it babe." Peeves said sarcastically before flying away with my panties. I screamed at him while I tried to free myself on my own.
"Djinn!" I cried, and my house elf friend popped up next to me.
"Hello miss Bladdin. need my assistance?" He asked sweetly.
"Please and thank you." I said pointing at my legs. He snapped his fingers and I was free. "Thank you so much!" I gushed
"My pleasure." He said before he disappeared.
I sighed sadly before stalling my confrontation with the other marauders by heading down to take a bath. I headed up there and quickly ran a bath in the large tub before stripping naked and plunging in. multi-color bubbles surrounded my body as I relaxed for a moment before cleaning myself off. After I was clean, the filth magicked away by the tub's enchantment I took in the comfort of the warm water. I sighed audibly when I heard a splash nearby.
I turned quickly to see the Raven haired girl emerge from the water, he hair cascading back with unnatural grace. Her developed breasts were hidden beneath the bubble as she swam over to me. Her long toned legs kicking water behind me as I blushed.
"So how well do good-nites work?" I asked dumbly. It was her turn to blush as she turned her head away.
"Good enough." She muttered turning away. "Though I wear depends during the day." She muttered.
"So what's your name?" I asked meekly, my mind curious on what wearing a diaper would feel like.
"Ami Stone." She said softly. "So how's your arm? From the bludger."
"Perfect." I said wiggling my arm freely.
"That's good. And the snitch?"
"Haven't given it much thought." I muttered softly.
"Where is it?" She asked. On cue the snitch fluttered through the air.
"Well don't over think it. Its suppose to be simple." She muttered.
I turned to the snitch, "Alohomora." I said flicking my wand at the snitch. Nothing happened.
"Too bad you didn't get the fastest." She replied.
"Fastest..." I muttered. "Wasswasi!" I cried flicking my wand at the snitch. It shot through the air moving at a high speed, and a moment before it slammed into the faucets it fluttered back and opened up, a single piece of paper fell out.
"Forbidden Forest, ten A.M. November first." Was all it read.
"Good thinking!" She gushed.
"Why are you so nice to me?" I asked her turning to see her face distorting . One second she's a bauxbaton girl, the next she's Rachel.
"Because you're an idiot." Rachel purred.
"Polyjuice?" I cried splashing a distance between us.
She swam closer till I felt the occasional brush of her leg against mine as we tread water. "Correct. You are a Ravenclaw after all." She purred. I began to swim away but she caught my arm. and pulled me back.
"By the way, I don't wear diapers anymore, so you've got nothing over me. Once again, I'm the better." She purred in my ear. I tried to pull away but she kept a hold of me for a moment more. "Look at how long it took you to figure the speed thing out, almost all the bubbles are gone." She said, and she was correct, we were in nearly clear water, both naked and I could see her body perfectly, albeit it was a little off scale due to the rippling water.
I swam to the other end of the tub where more bubbles covered my body. I would get out but I felt to shy to clamber out and let her see my naked body, which was previously slightly covered by a thin veil of dissipating bubbles.
She floated on her back and I saw her body perfectly. I knew in an instant why she was the hearthrob for all the guys. I blushed and turned away.
"I'm not going to be the first to leave you know." She called without looking up. I blushed but remained there. "You are really stubborn." She said swimming closer to me again. I pointlessly pushed water in her way. "Good try, but real wicked witches don't melt." She rolled her eyes as she neared my body again. I felt her pleasant breath blow on my face as the room grew silent.
"I think you might want to drop out of the tournament, it would be better for you." She said. There was something different in her voice, it still had its seductive purr, but it also seemed more sincere."
"Not going to happen." I replied bluntly.
"Fine, you leave me no choice." She said, then she swam around me and climbed out, revealing her entire body. I watched her leave a little shamefully as she dressed in her earlier outfit before leaving the room glancing back at me once more. "Thanks for the wand by the way." She said revealing that she took my wand. My eyes went wide as she dashed out the bathroom. I fumbled out of the bath and grabbed a towel, wrapping around my shoulders like a dress before I charged after her.
I continuously tugged at the towel to keep it from falling off my naked body while I ran after the slytherin slut. I looked like an idiot running through the halls, sopping wet, barefoot and only covered by a pale blue towel with my drenched hair sticking to my neck and face. Still a large group of boys watched my, hoping for the towel to fall of my body obviously.
I nearly tripped several times as I closed into Rachel and caught up to her outside of the transfiguration room. I slid into her and she fell to the ground. She held up my wand, swished it through the air and it became a single rose. It had been a trick wand. "Never took it, in the bathroom still. Hopefully."
"What is the meaning of this disorderly conduct?" Mcggonagal." Asked condescendingly.
"I.. was..uh...crap." I said.
"Well with no real explanation as why you are running through the school, nearly naked. Detention tomorrow at seven." She said. I nodded my head. "Rachel, see that our champion gets dressed as soon as possible." She said before leaving to her class.
"Nice Job." Rachel said, taking me by the arm and leading me to the bathroom
So what do you think? |
Thanks for all the feedback I'm glad people like the complicated rivalry between Rachel and Sara, its one of my favorite components of the story.
I woke up the next day miserable. I sat up angrily, how had Rachel managed to manipulate me like that? I sighed as I stood up, dressed in my bra and panties while rain pounded against the window. I sighed as I quickly pulled on a set of clothes. a black v-neck with the ravenclaw emblem, the black pants from yesterday and my converse once again before I jogged down too muggle studies. I found myself bored to sleep in the class and didn't wake up till Lisa shook me awoke at the end of class. I sighed bitterly as I headed to charms.
Class passed slowly and I grew bored and I seemed too drift off in nearly all my classes until my last one, defense against dark arts. I stepped into class, slowly and miserably. I took my seat next to Annalise.
"So ever figure out the snitch?" She asked. I nodded my head simply and remained silent till class became.
"Class, today we will work with boggarts, does anyone know what a boggart is?" I raised my hand and he nodded in my direction.
"A boggart is a shape-shifting creature that takes on the form of the viewer's worst fear." I said simply.
"Correct, how does one defeat a boggart?"
"With laughter, the boggart's kryptonite."
"Correct. Now class, one often finds it difficult to laugh at their worst fear. However a simple charm, the riddikulus incantation replaces your fear with something humorous, you only have to push past the fear and focus, everyone in line and lets begin.
I soon found myself in the back of a long line as the line progressed each student faced there fear as the boggart warped into frightening creatures and phobias. I watched amused as Rachel stood in front of the boggart and it instantly warped into a gruesome looking dementor. She trembled as she meekly muttered the incantation and nothing happened. She trembled as the dementor thing flew at her, she cast the spell again and the dementor turned into a big blue genie, like the one from Aladdin.
Annalise saw a dragon, Jake saw a manticorn, but when it came too me class was ended and I never got to face my fear. I sighed in relief as I headed to the common room. Later that night I forced myself to move to the transfiguration class room when Fred stopped me in the halls.
"Hey Sara, can you help tutor me?" He asked innocently.
"Sorry, got detention, annalise can probably help you, look for her in the Myrtle's bathroom."
"Ok, thanks." He said before marching off. I sighed as I felt my bladder begin to fill. I took a minute to consider using the bathroom, but I was going to be late and Mcgonagal would be reasonable I hoped.
I strolled into the large room to find it covered in a layer of filth, other than Rachel who stood in the center of the room.
"Welcome to detention." The headmistress said strolling in. "You will stay here until you clean this room, by muggle means. And so one of you doesn't do all the work themselves, Sara you get the duster. It is magicked to repel Rachel's touch. Rachel you get the mop. The door will be sealed until the room is clean. That is all." She said before taking our wands and leaving, the door becoming a brick wall behind her.
"Why are you here?"
"Cut class." She said turning away from me. I shook my head and began to dust the walls as fast as possible, while Rachel simply mopped the floor miserably. I looked at her a little sympathetically, then I remembered what she did too me and began work.
Two hours later I was on my last wall and my legs were trembling beneath me. I felt my bladder threaten to give out. I doubled over for a moment with both hands in my crotch.
"Don't you dare make another mess for me to clean." Rachel threatened.
"Leave me alone." I sobbed as I began to bounce up and down, one hand in my crotch, the other dusting a book shelf. I knew I couldn't make it, but I still tried. My legs were pressed so tightly together I had to hop from one area to the next just to finish the wall. My eyes brimmed with tears as I felt a spurt fall into my purple panties. I cleared my throat. "Don't get your hopes up on me making."
"I swear to god..." She said. I just kept dusting the shelf, halfway done as I felt another spurt release. I felt warm urine slither down my thigh all the way to below my knee. I gasped loudly but kept dusting. I managed to finish the shelf and only had a short stretch of wall left.
"I can make it." I said hopefully and as I bounced in place, the feather duster cleared the entire wall of filth. There I stood before the brick wall, both hands pressed against my pants in an attempt to stop the flow of urine, my legs crossed tightly together and my lip beginning to bleed where I bit it. Nothing happened, and then I realized Rachel had to finish before it would open. In the moment of disappointment I leaked an amount of urine flow from my urethra, the pants around it glistening and rippling as the trail made it to my ankle before I regained control.
I turned to her as I hopped up and down hoping she would finish soon. I knew she wouldn't. I doubled over for a long time with both hands buried into my pants and I tried to stop the flow, but I felt a spurt release into my pants. Another, another, another. Soon a large heart shaped glistening patch was on my pants and a small cookie shaped puddle was below me as a long stream was released. It slipped through my fingers and I felt the warmth spread down my inner right thigh, circling around to the calf before it streamed into my shoes.
I gasped as warm urine pooled around my heel, soaking my white socks. I gasped, as my bladder burst entirely. I squealed as urine gushed down my legs filling my shoes where it overflowed and puddled around me. A stream fell off my right thigh and added to the puddle as more warmth soaked the back of my legs, mainly my right one. I sobbed as the urine flow continued. a thin veil of urine fell between my closing thighs as I pressed them together trying to stop the accident. No luck, urine kept soaking my pants, leaving it glistening as the fabric seemed to ripple from the urine flow.
I gasped as it all came out in one sudden burst, the urine could be seen streaming downwards outside the fabric of my pants as it hissed loudly and quickly ended, leaving me in a large puddle. I felt dizzy from relief until I felt Rachel tackle me to the ground.
"What did I tell you?" She screamed as she clawed at my skin and clothes. I tried to push her off of me, but no luck. We began rolling over each other, grappling each other. We rolled straight into the bucket of water and spilled onto us, mostly Rachel. However I still gasped as cold water splashed over me and her. Her entire butt and groin area was soaked with cold water while she pinned me below her.
The water dripped on to me as she stared into my eyes with fierce rage when the water went warm. A stream of hot pee fell onto my body and I saw her eyes go wide.
"You're peeing!"
"I... I..I..." She gasped. Warm urine continued to fall onto my lower abdomen where it rolled between my legs and groin, it tickled slightly. I sighed as the urine kept soaking my crotch further and I felt her salty tears fall onto my cheeks. Finally the stream began to slow and we were both silent. I noticed her lips for the first time. Like the rest of her face, it was perfectly formed and had auburn lipstick on. My breathing slowed and I felt myself inclined to bend forward and kiss her. It was awkward, but it felt tingly and her tongue tasted like a cappuccino. I pulled back and stared at her in shock. "Part veela... it happens." She said getting up. "Just don't expect it to happen again." Her voice was still seductive but it held a sharp sarcasm as she grabbed the mop and quickly cleaned the rest of the room after the bucket magically filled itself back up.
The doors opened and I rushed out stunned, confused and frightened as I ran to my bed.
I hope you are pleased with the odd relationship of Sara/Rachel hitting a mile stone... and then another road block... I've lost my own certainty in the long run of there relationship though... but I'll leave that a secret |
So I have recently realized a major plot hole to the story. Rachel is in her fifth year but is in several of Sara's third year classes. So I feel lousy for doing this, but from now on she is a third year, to keep her the elder, she is fourteen and that is all. Enjoy.
I woke up the next day with a warm dampness between my legs. I sighed sadly as I stood up in my wet bra and panties and allowed Djinn to appear. He popped in and popped out with the sheets and blankets. I quickly pulled on my cheetah print undergarments and black yoga pants that hugged my toned legs seductively and a purple tank top before heading out to meet the marauders. I sighed softly as I skirted around Rachel who leaned against a wall wearing a black mini skirt with a slit up the left side and a skimpy top while twirling her hair with her left index finger and talking to Jake Harris.
She completely ignored me, much to my pleasure as I dashed out to the courtyard to meet my friends. They were all gathered in empty bleachers in the quidditch pitch. I took a seat next to Annalise while we stared out into empty space for a moment. They all had a grim look about them. Finally Lisa spoke.
"Harry is looking for you! You're in danger!" She blurted out.
"What?" I asked.
"Just go too the whommping willow tonight at eight." Cody said.
"What did he say exactly?" I asked. They simply shook their head. I sighed and decided to head up to the room of requirements. I figured I might as well train but once I got there, I found someone already in there. I walked through the doors with a w on them to find Fred setting up shop.
"Oh hey." He said smiling as he put away a box of novelties away and came over to me.
"Hey, need help studying still?" I asked.
"Yeah sure, I need some help with transfiguration. Have time to teach me?" He asked. I nodded my head and began to help him learn the difficult art of transfiguration till 7:45.
"Hey, I got a place to be. You good?" I asked. He nodded his head as he transfigured a quill into a dagger. I smiled as I left and snuck past the caretaker Goyle and jogged down to the murderous tree to find a dark silhouette beneath the strangely calmed tree. I shivered in the cool October winds as I struggled to make my way to Harry. I trembled around in the dark as I stood before him as his wand lit up, illuminating the perimeter around us.
"I... there is something sinister about this tournament. I don't know what yet for sure... but apparently an old bat of a divination teacher is write every other blue moon... I can't take you out of the tournament, trust me the turn of events are catastrophic. But... I have a lesson to teach you that may help. Legilimency and occlumency. This may be the most complicated lesson you ever learn, but it will let you know who you can trust in these dark times."
"But... the dark lord has fallen..."
"I know... I was there." He smirked softly. "But as long as light exists, there will always be darkness." He said more solemnly. "I will teach you the way I was taught. Starting with occlumency. I will attempt to penetrate your mind, you must clear your head of emotion, of though, of everything but the most primal instinct of survival and rebellion, Do not allow me to enter your mind. I'll give you a count down you brace yourself. No one else will, eventually you will have to learn to recognize when a headache is something more complicated. ten, nine eight seven..." He began to countdown. I balled my fists and cleared my head, a difficult task for a ravenclaw. I tried to focus simply on nothing, just the glow of the light of the wand. Simply seeing the image and nothing else. Fading out the countdown.
Suddenly my head burst with an overwhelming daze and my knees buckled. My legs threatened to give out, I burst out in perspiration as I tried to keep my mind clear. Suddenly images of my constant wettings flit through my mind. I felt my bladder burst at that moment. Urine trickled down my legs, as the images moved at high speeds like a montage as I tried to clear my head. More images came in, and my bladder continued to empty in my pants, the fabric seemed to ripple as urine gushed out. Suddenly images of Rachel and my humiliation, my oddly intimate moments started to burst before my eyes and suddenly I was back at the whommping willow on my knees in a puddle of urine.
"I didn't get it my first time either..." He said not bringing attention to the things he saw, or my puddle of urine. "Let's go again." He said and I tried to clear my head again as he counted down. I slowed my breathing and focused on absolutely nothing this time. Just looking into the distance at nothing at all. I felt the tell-tale pain of the legilimency. I felt my body tremble again and a spurt fall into my pants as I tried to keep my mind calm, for maybe thirty seconds nothing happened and then suddenly I was seeing myself in detention with Rachel. I clenched my teeth and cleared my head, I felt the memory hinder. It began to fray and the background flickered between the room and my current location. but finally I succumbed to the reality of my memories and more flooded in.
Finally he relented. And I passed out in his arms, exhausted from my failed attempts at Occlumency. I guess he had sneaked me into the ravenclaw common room, because when I came too I was on the blue couch in front of the fire place the next morning at dawn. I struggled to my feet and nearly crashed to the ground. I decided to take today as a time to rest. I clambered up the steps to my dormitory and stripped into my urine scented and still slightly damp panties. I threw myself on the bed and fell asleep instantly again.
I woke up around noon feeling slightly rested and sat up in bed. I sighed and decided to spend the day like a sick day and remained in bed. Doing homework and relaxing as my silver snitch fluttered in the air above me. I finally laid back on the bed and just stared at the ceiling as my snitch flew a figure eight above my head.
"So I guess you're my pet now?" I asked the odd artificial creature. Oddly enough it seemed to flutter up and down, seemingly like it was nodding yes. "Good." I said simply as I reached out with my right hand to pet nightlock, however it held out a letter I didn't notice it had. I tore it open to find that Harry requested me to another lesson at the tree again. I sighed as I thought of how the last one turned out, but when eight came around I turned up.
I stood at the tree as he made various attempts to penetrate my mind, my body trembling, more urine spilling to the ground and more images fraying as I felt myself resisting the pull. That's how the next several nights went, meeting him there every day as I progressed with my abilities as I began to slowly freeze out my emotions when I felt the pain. eventually the pain became a dull tingle as he used subtler uses of occlumency. It became harder to resist as he became subtler and more powerful attempts. But I was quickly succeeding as I became stronger and more powerful at the art of Occlumency until I took my final lesson the night before Halloween.
"Tomorrow after the Halloween feast, meet me in the astronomy tower. I will teach you a more difficult art. Legilimency." He said as I strolled to my bed. Sleepy, but beyond the exhaustion of the struggle. I still spurted a little in my panties, but over all I had mastered the art, keeping Harry out of my mind all together against his most subtle and penetrating attempts. "I haven't see such talent at this since Severus Snape. You've learned this quicker than anyone I've ever met." Harry said before disappearing beneath the willow as I headed up to my bed.
I was nearing Ravenclaw tower when I felt a jinx slam into my back. I fell to the ground, my knee became skinned with the little protection my black daisy dukes provided. I stood up and felt the spot on my back where the spell hit from beneath my cropped vest. It was sore and bruised but mostly fine. Another spell slammed into the back of my head and my ears rang and I saw doubles as I fell to my knees.
"Having fun?" Rachel spoke. I turned to face her.
"No, you little slut." I spat at her. "What is the matter with you now?"
"It's been a month since I put you in your place." She said simply in her seductive purr. I glared at her as another spell knocked me to the ground again.
"Is this how you treat all the girls you kiss?" I sneered as I reached for my wand.
"Expelliarmus!" My wand shot to her feet. "That night never happened." She said before leaving. I retrieved my wand angrily before heading up to my bed. I fell into an agitated sleep, and my dreams consisted of hitting Rachel with curses and jinxes as we dueled in Myrtle's bathroom where warm water flooded around us. I woke up the next morning in another wet bed, but at least it was Halloween. |
It's come to my attention that you are curious about why Rachel attacked Sara. I was hoping you would just go with it, because it is a hint at a major plot point that will occur on the final challenge. But since you probably want some sort of collateral, let's simply say she's protecting her.
I slipped on a black thong and bra before pulling over black skinny jeans and a tight blue v-neck shirt. I tossed on purple socks and my purple converse before strolling down to the great hall for breakfast. As i made my way down the grand staircase I noticed the bauxbaton girl that Rachel had impersonated. I wondered if the first time we met in the bathroom before she ran out was really her or Rachel. I thought it over for a moment before deciding it was really her, after all Rachel wouldn't have gained anything from that. I took a moment to watch her talk with her friends before awkwardly leaving to the great hall.
I took a seat at the table next to Annalise and Cody for breakfast.
"Hey champion! ready for tomorrow?" Hugo asked. I shook my head.
"What's wrong?" Lisa asked.
"Nervous I guess." I muttered as I picked at my breakfast for a moment. "I mean, the forbidden forest, all full of monsters and what not."
"It's all part of the challenge." Annalise said simply.
"I know, I know. But... they say there are werewolves in the forest." I said meekly as I took a bite of bacon.
"There might not even be anything in there at all. Maybe they clear a section of the forest out for the competition." Cody suggested.
"Yeah, that's more likely." Annalise agreed.
"The yule balls coming up... not sure how I feel about it." Hugo said, changing the subject.
"Well you're taking me, so you'll love it." Lisa said pulling Hugo's arm around her shoulders.
"Course I will." He said shaking his head no. She playfully slapped him and the conversation focused on the Yule ball. After a while I left and head out to the courtyard for some fresh air. Some reason I strolled towards the whommping willow, expecting to see Harry. I didn't, however I did see Rachel climbing in a hole at the base of it. Curious I trailed after her and found myself in a low tunnel to some unknown location. I kept my distance not trying to attract her attention, till I made the mistake of stepping on something loud and crunchy.
her head snapped back as well as her wand and I felt a jinx slam into my chest. I slammed on to my back and lost my breath, while I tried to regain it Rachel crouched over me. Her wand pointed at my face. She bowed forward till her face was an inch from mine. "Leave now." She growled.
"Make me." I said a little immaturely as I slammed her to the ground and found myself in another grappling match with her as I tried to aim my wand at her, only to have it knocked out of the way every time, or have her maneuver out of the way. Finally I found myself pinning her my wand directed at her face.
"Leave now." She hissed.
"Or what you'll kiss me again?" I meant for it to come out sarcastically, but it sounded more breathless and charmed. I stared at her lips pathetically, so seduced by her Veela beauty that when she flipped me beneath her I was totally off guard. She had her wand beneath my chin in a second, the wooden tip pressed against my flesh. My own wand was on the ground a foot away from me, yet totally unreachable. I didn't care though, I simply stared at her auburn lips longingly. I saw her lean forward, the smell of the rich and intoxicating cappuccino breath that she constantly had sent pleasure through my senses. At the last second her lips moved off to the side to my left ear. I felt her blow into the earlobe, sending chills of pleasure down my back. My eyes fluttered when she whispered.
"Hey, just wanted to say... stupefy." She said softly and then everything went black.
I don't know how much longer it was till I woke up, but when I did, my eyes fluttered open to see Rachel's face hanging over me. Instinctively, assuming it was a dream, I kissed her. But instantly, the warm softness of her lips and the rich taste of her tongue, began to overwhelm me, letting me know it was real. Sure she just hit me with a spell, but I couldn't muster the will power to pull back. She however did and pressed me to the ground.
"I told you, no more of that." She said standing up, turning around to leave. I grabbed my wand and shoved it into her back.
"You jinxed me!" I cried. She paused calmly, turned around slowly and kissed me. I wish I could say I resisted it, but my body instantly relaxed. My body went numb and my arms hung limply at my sides as raw pleasure flowed through my veins. She paused from kissing me for a moment to speak.
"Stupefy." I once again passed out. I woke up at dusk with a full bladder. I quickly sat up and hurried to the astronomy tower to meet Harry, not then caring about Rachel. I sprinted into the castle and ran straight up to the tower to find Harry standing in the center.
"Welcome." He said simply. "This may come easier to you, or harder. This spell can be used without a wand or incantation, but I will train you with the spell. Simply direct your wand at me, say the incantation: legilimens. You must then search my mind for a thought or an emotion or something to pry open my brain so you can delve into it. Begin.
"Legilimens!" I cried. I tried to force my will into her mind, pure force and in the process I felt urine stream down my legs. I took another breath. "Legilimens." I said this time looking through his mind, while honing my own. Love. That was the emotion I allowed myself to feel, that I aimed at Harry and for a fraction of a second I saw an image of some beautiful red headed woman. Then it was gone. The night was mostly unsuccessful and by the end a puddle of urine surrounded my feet and my jeans were thoroughly soaked.
He dismissed me, giving me a compliment on the little success I managed. I thanked him and left. Instantly falling asleep in my bed, still wearing my urine soaked clothes, including my shoes that squelched when I walked from the urine that soaked into them and my socks. I fell into a comfortable sleep despite spending most of the day unconscious.
I woke up the next morning the day of the second challenge, my bed more urine soaked than I ever had it before. The yellow stain covered nearly all of the sheets and I found my entire body damp from urine I spent the night rolling in. My body itched as I stripped naked before grabbing a set of clothes. I felt to gross to through my new clothes over my moist body so I called upon Djinn. He shielded his eyes from my naked body.
"Can you apparate me to the bathroom?" I asked. He nodded his head, not looking at me directly and grabbed my bare leg and I felt my body suddenly feel compressed like I was being crushed as everything went black and my body seemed to hurtle in all directions as breathing became futile as no oxygen existed. The feeling only lasted seconds before I face planted into the damp cement of the ground. I heard a pop as Djinn disappeared. I felt my stomach lurch, but I kept my stomach and ran a bath. I quickly leaped into the warm water with colorful bubbles. I sighed in pleasure as the steamy bath relaxed and cleaned me. Rachel appeared in the bathroom. Typical.
She stripped out of her black jeans and green shirt and her silver bra and panties before dipping her naked body into the bath a few feet from me.
"What are you doing here?" I asked bitterly, swimming away.
"Oh get over yourself, its already 9:30 I'm getting read for the tournament." She said as she cleaned her body, ignoring me till just before she got out. She swam close to me like usual and I felt her breast brush against mine, I blushed and swam back. "Last chance to drop out." She said.
"You know I can't do that."
"You could not try." She offered.
"I will win." I said simply.
"No you won't." She said softly before swimming out and drying herself off before dressing and leaving. I groaned and stepped out. Drying myself with a towel and then slipped on my favorite cheetah print undergarments. I then pulled on dark blue skinny jeans that while hugged my skin tightly was enchanted to be flexible. Still it was a pain to get on and off. Then I pulled on an equally, figure hugging black v-neck t-shirt. I examined my body, I looked great. I grinned as I slipped on red converse over pink socks. I slipped on a thin navy blue jacket before rushing to breakfast. I shoved as much food in my mouth as quickly as possible before sprinting to the forbidden forest.
The note didn't specify where in the forest I had to be, but I found myself almost in a trance as I walked through the forest until I found myself amongst a crowd of all the different schools. The minister stood upon a platform with the other champions. I joined them, standing between Oliver and Rachel. I kept my posture straight my arms back and my chest forwards. I kept my chin high and my face solemn and unreadable. It was second nature after learning Occlumency.
"This tournament requires that each champion must retrieve a single flag from the center of the forest and bring it back here. There are six flags, each has a number. The number one signifies first place and so on. Begin!" Suddenly I felt myself running through the forest, in the basic area the minister said the flags were. I dodged jinxes and hexes as I forced myself to keep running, till I found myself utterly alone.
I took a moment to relax when I heard a shrill scream. I knew I was supposed to be thinking of myself, but I chased after Rachel's scream and found her trembling in front of the gruesome dementor like monster boggarts took in front of her. Her legs were shaking violently and it amazed me that her buckling knees didn't give out. Her wand was pointed at the creature.
"Ridikkuls, riddikulus, riddikkulus!" She cried trying every pronunciation to get the boggart to change form. However urine spilled into her jeans and I saw a glistening patch spread from her but down her legs as rivulets of urine raced to the ground. Streams splattered to the ground around her and pity over came me.
"Might work better without the pee running down your legs." I muttered stepping in front of her. Before the boggart could change I flicked my wand at it. "Riddikulus." I cried and the thing turned into wisps of smoke. I forced myself to laugh at it until it flit away. Another Boggart flanked me as it became a giant werewolf. I screamed as I fell onto my butt. My bladder instantly gave out as a puddle of urine gushed from beneath my butt as I scooted backwards, leaving a trail of urine.
"Riddikulus. Rictumsempra." I found myself laughing violently as the boggart left and Rachel spoke again. "Finite." I turned to see her standing there trying to look confident despite the glistening patch of urine on her legs from urine. "we're even. No more owing each other, no more kissing. We are rivals and nothing more. This was your choice. The next time I see you I won't hesitate to hex you." She said before running out of the clearing.
I gave her a couple minute lead before running after her. I found myself in the clearing with the flags, I saw Rachel disappear in the distance with the first place flag. I instantly chased after the second place when I felt my body hurl through the air. I slammed into a tree and saw Alexander take the flag and race out of the clearing. I grit my teeth and ran up to the platform. I yanked the third place flag and ran back to the clearing with the minister. I found myself running straight into Deserae and Ambyr. The both sent hexes at me, I dodged around them and saw my chance.
"Reducto!" I cried and a tree began to topple. "Carpe retractum." Suddenly a line from my wand pulled me into the branches of the falling tree. I fell towards the direction of the clearing, separating at least a hundred yards between me and the two bauxbaton champions. I took off in a run and saw Alexander just about to break from the foliage into the clearing. "Petrificus Totalus!" I meant to immobolize him but instead he reversed it and I fell to the ground, completely frozen. I heard movement and soon a concerned Oliver stood before me. He bit his lip before tossing my wand a few yards away switched his fourth place flag for my third, reversed my hex on me and broke through the clearing. I retrieved my wand and followed after him. Winning fourth place.
I hope you enjoyed this:) |
Ten days later and here I am, finally posting the update:P I'm a little apprehensive of this chapter considering it includes the yule ball. I am insanely looking forward to the final challenge which will reveal answers to questions some of you had about Rachel and Sara;)
a week from the Yule ball I found myself tutoring Fred without a date. I was always considered beautiful, but since I began to constantly have accidents, most boys avoided me. Rachel however managed to find ways to cover up her few accidents she had and was surrounded with boys willing to date her. Including her date, Jake Harris. Of course Hugo and Lisa were going together and Cody asked Annalise to the ball. That was the biggest shock to me, of course Annalise was beautiful but until the third year started I had eyes for Cody. Now however Rachel had me in an emotional confusion and I wasn't sure how I felt.
"So will you?" Fred asked.
"What?" I asked embarrassed at my ignorance.
"Will you go to the Yule ball with me." He asked flustered and blushing.
I was stunned, I had never really thought of Fred as anything more than a friend but now... "Yes, yes I will." I said gleefully.
He grinned and transfigured a quill into a red rose. He held it out for me. "Doesn't really compare to your beauty." He said.
I blushed and took it politely. I smiled. "Knowing you, I expect it to squirt water in my face."
"Not this time." He chuckled. I grinned as we finished the lesson and set out to Hogsmeade to find a dress for the ball. I went into a shop and began skimming through the ball gowns as I noticed Rachel enter. I scurried out of sight, remembering the last time we talked at the second challenge. She didn't really pay much attention to anyone though. I quickly shook off my fear and began sorting through the dresses until I found an electric blue gown that I quickly went to try on.
I stripped into my purple bra and panties before slipping on the cobalt dress. I slipped out of the dressing room to check out my reflection in a mirror.
"Huh, some how bribe someone for a date. Let me guess, a chubby hufflepuff?" Rachel asked as I turned around to see the beautiful girl dressed in a black skirt and white v-neck.
"No, Fred Weasley asked me."
"George's son? Let me guess it's just a big prank?"
I frowned and looked down at my feet, which were just covered by the golden bottom of the dress. "No." I mumbled.
"Whatever you say." She purred as she brushed against my bare arm.
I sighed as I looked into the mirror for a moment and found the will to smile I looked amazing in the blue dress with gold lacing. I went back into the dressing room, switched back into my clothing and purchased the dress and left before Rachel emerged from her dressing room.
I woke up on the day of the ball in mid wetting. A stream of urine sprayed onto the mattress, leaving a warm puddle beneath my partially curled body. I sighed as I relaxed my body and let the rest of the urine soak into the mattress.
Finally I waited for all the girls to leave the room before getting up and calling Djinn to clean up my mess before I changed into a simple night gown and set out to hang around the common room till the Yule ball would begin.
Finally as my bladder began to fill we heard the announcement. I hurried up to the dorm with Annalise and stripped out of the night gown and slipped on my dress over my cheetah print undergarments. Then I slipped on my golden flats, deciding high heels would be too much of a pain.
Finally I found myself shuffling with my chest against Fred's. My bladder was filling up, but for once I was feeling pure joy as I felt Fred's body heat clash with mine as we danced through the wintery themed great hall. It wasn't till I saw Rachel that my mood crashed. She was dressed in a skimpy black dress that had several thin see through spots near intimate areas. I wondered how she managed to get it approved, nevertheless it took my breath away as my chest felt sore. I ignored it and tried to dance with Fred despite my bladder nearing its limit until he went to talk to some friends at the punch bowel after getting me some. I sipped it as I awkwardly made my way to some seats when Rachel blocked my path
"Mind allowing me a dance?" She asked with a sinister purr.
I stepped back a little confused, I glanced around the other room, there was other same sex partners, though most of them seemed to be on a friendly basis and none of them struck me as the ulterior motive driven dances Rachel proposed. None the less I couldn't resist and I wrapped my arms around here a little uneasily.
We began to sway with the music as my bladder started to give. I bit my lip as I felt a spurt soaked my panties.
"When we go into the final challenge, don't get in my way. Don't try to win, This is your final warning." She whispered in my ear as a long stream of urine leaked down my leg. Something I noticed however is that it didn't get the dress wet. I could wet myself inconspicuously as long as I didn't let too much out at once. I didn't like the thought of it, but Iet another spurt out as we danced around the room, leaving an altogether unnoticeable puddle on the floor.
"Not going to happen." I replied as another stream of urine snaked its way down my leg.
"Fine, don't hate me for this, you brought it on yourself." She flicked her wand at my crotch muttering a word I didn't quite hear and suddenly I was forced to will myself to let a forceful stream sprayed into my dress when I made an awkward step so that a stain appeared on my dress.
I gasped as my entire bladder emptied itself with my hands in my crotch and my body doubled over. The stain on the front of my dress spread from my lap to past my knees. More urine gushed down my legs and filled my shoes. Urine seeped out and splashed to the ground forming a large puddle.
I felt tears begin to stream as the entire room laughed at me including Fred. I turned and sprinted out of the room with my shoes squelching beneath me. I ran straight up to my dorm and cried myself to sleep, still dressed in my ball gown. |
If any one noticed the last installment was rather abrupt, well I was in the middle of writing and I got a five second warning that we were going out to eat, so I posted before rushing out:( I would have finished it last night but I fell asleep so here we go, Christmas break:) oddly contrasting to the fact that summer just started for me today. Hope you enjoy, showed a little of Rachel's more charismatic side today, though you might not notice it.
I slowly tread down stairs for breakfast, always avoiding the second steps till I got to the hall in time to have a meal with my friends before they left, including Fred.
"Hey about the tutor session, I'm going to the burrow." Fred muttered a little sadly.
"It's Ok, I kinda forgot today was the start of Christmas break anyway."
"Great." He kissed me on the cheek and I began to eat breakfast with the group.
Cody and Hugo began to play wizard chess while they waited for the Hogwarts Express while Lisa and Annalise talked about the Yule ball. I on the other hand took a walk around the Hogwarts grounds with Fred.
"You sure you're ok being here alone?" He asked. I nodded as we trudged through the snow, his maroon hoodie covering my hourglass figure. He himself wore a black t-shirt and jeans. "If you run into an trouble with Rachel, let me teach you a fun spell."
"What spell?" I asked.
"Levicorpus." He said flicking his wand at me. Suddenly my body flipped so I was dangling from my legs upside down. I became thankful for my pantyhose as my skirt now billowed towards my chest. "Librecorpus." He said. Suddenly my body fell to the ground and I landed on my butt. "Now you try." He said.
I scowled at him bitterly as I drew out my wand. "Levicorpus." I found myself chanting several times until he was floating upside down several feet above the ground. I grinned as I strut away.
"Hey!"
"Librecorpus!" I heard him fall to ground. "We're even." I said before entering the castle. It wasn't long till I found myself hugging Fred good-bye as he left for the express. I turned to hug the rest of my friends good-bye including Cody, who I blushed awkwardly hugging before turning to hug Annalise. "Don't have to much fun with out me." I grinned at my friends.
"Wouldn't dream of it beautiful." Suddenly I felt Fred's lips on mine as we kissed, I felt his tongue dart into my mouth a few times before we moved apart and he left. I watched them head towards Hogsmeade sadly before turning to head up to my dormitory. I found myself frowning as I got to the door of my dorm. I decided to try out the new Weasley invention of Floo Entertainment. I found the small fire pit in the room and tossed a small handful of purple Floo powder. Suddenly Arthur Weasley's idea that got him rich gave me entertainment. The wizard's answer to Muggle television began to play a sitcom in the fire pit.
I swished my wand a few times to change it to a horror movie before pulling the blankets over my body till dinner.
Around lunch time I felt my bladder fill but I ignored it, engrossed in the horror movie marathon. Djinn appeared with a silver platter of sandwiches and a pitcher of pink lemonade and a single glass.
"Thanks. Care to join me?" I asked him scooting over.
"Oh no, Djinn is horribly frightened by scary movies, besides he must tend to the other students. Thank you though." He was gone in a pop. I shrugged my shoulders and began to eat, drink and enjoy the movie. The sandwiches and lemonade magically kept refilling until I was stuffed. I set down the sandwiches but occasionally would refill my pitcher as the day grew later and my bladder grew more full.
It was growing late when I found myself rocking back and forth, sitting on my heels with boy hands in my crotch as I promised myself that I would use the bathroom once the program was over with. Unfortunately it was barely half over. I squirmed until the credits finally began to roll. I fumbled out of my bed, falling to the ground as I did so, wetting my panties. I ran down the stairs to the bathroom and burst in there without knocking since I was the only Ravenclaw left. I ran for the toilet when my bladder burst. I stood in front of the toilet as my bladder burst, soaking my pantyhose. I sighed bitterly as I sat on the toilet, allowing my boots to stay dry.
I sighed as my bladder emptied itself through my panties, pantyhose and even my skirt until my bladder was empty. I reluctantly stood up and head upstairs to change. I slipped off my wet clothing and pulled on black panties and grey-white skinny jeans before heading to dinner.
I took a seat alone, there weren't many people left, a few dumstrang and bauxbaton students, a couple gryffindor and slytherin but the majority of the crowd were faculty and hufflepuff students. I sighed as I poked at my dinner as I noticed Rachel fidget a little uneasily. I slipped into her mind.
I can't believe how fast this pumpkin juice is getting to me. I need an excuse to leave soon or I'll wet myself. Speaking of which, why is Sara wearing jeans now? Did the beautiful Ravenclaw have another accident?
I blushed and rushed to the nearest bathroom a little flustered as a small amount of urine spurted into my panties. I flicked my wand and the bath began to run. I washed my face in the sink when I noticed Sara enter the bathroom. I smirked and turned to face her.
"About to have an accident are you?"
"Get out of my way." She started towards the toilets.
"Levicorpus!" Suddenly she found herself dangling from her legs, which were covered by tight grey yoga pants and flats. Her white camisole hung around her face, giving my view of her black bra. I smirked as I drew myself near the dangling snake.
"Let me down before I.."
"Before you what?"
"Wet myself." She muttered meekly.
"No, I don't think I will let you down in that case."
"No please!" She cried out trashing around, trying to keep from wetting herself. I grinned.
"Rictumsempra!"
"Nooooooooooo!" Suddenly she burst into laughter and squirmed a few more minutes before a dark spot began to form on her pants heading towards her torso. I noticed a pale yellowish liquid begin to makeits way down her toned stomach towards hers her face. It soaked her shirt and body and even continued to run down her face. I laughed along with her forced laughter until the stream died down. finally I sighed and released her.
I started to head for the door when I felt her tackle me into the bath I nearly forgot about.
I thrashed around when I felt boiling water spray at my face. I fumbled in the water. I flicked my wand at her and screamed into the water. "Flipendos!" I scrambled to the surface and exhaled before gulping in oxygen. Rachel burst to the surface and pointed her wand at me. "Impendimenta!" I fell back to the bottom of the tub. Expelliarmus!" Bubbles billowed to the top and Rachels wand defied physics and floated to the bottom of the bath, not before she hit me with the leg lock jinx though.
I struggled to swim to the surface but was stuck to drown without my legs. I felt my chest begin to grow pained.
"Levicorpus." The muffled voice of Rachel cried. Suddenly I shot past the surface and dangled above the bath by my legs.
Rachel surfaced and made her way out of the bathroom.
"Finite, librecorpus." I splashed into the bath. I stripped naked from beneath the water and threw it onto the cement floor. I cleaned myslef off before dressing back into the soaked clothes and heading upstairs to fall asleep in the empty room. |
My sickness and the medicine left a weird effect on my body, sorta like a high I guess, so I sorta messed up the story so I guess in a way I have to rewrite the chapter.
I felt Djinn shake me awake. My eyes drifted open to see the open presents surrounding my body. I sat up, my urine soaked body still warm as I glanced down to find myself on a stained couch, dressed only in my leopard print pants and my cheetah print bra. I scrunched up my face confused.
"What day is it?"
"Christmas evening, a half hour before dinner." Djinn replied.
"So that means... I dreamed about Rachel..."
"Hurry, take a bath!" Djinn urged. "Djinn will take care of the couch cushion."
"Ok..." I sighed standing up, slipping the jacket Cody got me over my damp torso. it fell past my butt where the only urine stain was. I slipped my feet into cheetah print slippers before heading off to the bath room.
I quickly stripped from my clothes and slipped into a green and red bubble bath and washed myself for quite a while. It wasn't until Mcgonaggle's voice shot through the halls, announcing dinner that I realized what time it was. I quickly pulled on my underwear before looking for new clothes before I realized that I forgot it. Already late I sighed, I pulled on pajamas that still had a dark stain on its but before slipping on my jacket. I zipped it up, hoping no one would notice my urine stain or lack of shirt. I decided not to risk it and pulled it up, for once not giving a hint at my breasts. Finally as I left to the hall I took a deep breath and prepared myself.
The large dinner went without incident as I carefully avoided sitting on the jacket, or giving an opportunity to glimpse the stain on the butt of my pajamas. Finally I was making my way to my corridor when my bladder gave a tug. I sighed as I strolled to the nearest bathroom. I walked into one and noticed three bauxbaton girls pointing their wands at a squirming Rachel, not that the girls didn't seem to be showing signs of desperation. I sighed as I strolled over to the group of girls.
"What's going on?"
"The little champ is going to pee herself, like you already did." The lead girl with blonde hair said flicking her wand at my jacket so it unzipped and fell off to show of my drying stain. I blushed as I took in the sights, the ring leader was dressed in tight white shorts stretching to just below her knees. Her blonde hair was in a bun, and if Rachel was a fraction of a veela, she must be at least half. The girl to her right had dark hair and wore pale blue volleyball shorts, she had long legs and a curvaceous body like her cherry haired friend. she like the other two girls were both attractive, just not as intensely beautiful as her leader, the final girl had cherry red hair and grey, "pink" brand tight sweatpants that ended at her mid calf and had its brand name labeled on the back. She didn't have particularly large breasts but she had a near perfect butt. The trio wore matching silk baby blue camisoles and white flats.
Rachel was dressed in a black spaghetti top and a green soffee. Her legs made a four as her body squirmed and her white flip flops threatened to fall off her dangling foot as her hands were forced into her crotch as the trio had their wands trained on us. Suddenly a figure entered the bathroom.
I reconized the girl as a fourth year huffelpuff known as Jess. She was rather attractive with large breasts, a heart shaped face and shoulder length blonde hair, that had a black streak on the left side, she was dressed in a yellow t-shirt that slipped off her right shoulder and red plaid boxer shorts that barely covered her groin area. She had on black flats and a smirk on her face, despite her trembling long, toned legs. She drew her wand and stood between us and the trio, her wand on the Veela.
"Fair fight, aye?"
I nodded and she sent a complex number of silencing and defensive charms at the door before the bathroom filled with jinxes and hexes. I dodged attacks from the cherry haired girl, and Rachel tried to send the dark haired girl into unconsciousness without wetting herself, though I noticed a baseball sized stain in her crotch. I felt a jinx slam into my abdomen, taking my eyes off of Rachel as my bladder released a long spurt as I fell onto my butt. Luckily it only darkened the already existing stain.
I pushed myself to my feet and sent a few well preformed spells at her, I noticed a dark stain drizzling down her inner thighs as she stumbled backwards. She groped her crotch giving me even more of an opening. A few hexes later her bladder burst entirely, urine streaking down the front of her thighs before she sent a spell flying at my chest. I just caught myself as I landed on my feet instead of slamming into a shattered sink base.
However my bladder gave out, hot pee streaking down the back of my legs as the stain spread from my butt to the back of my knees before another spell landed me on my back. A puddle of warm urine spread around my body as I stared at the ceiling of the bathroom in a daze as my bladder continued to empty itself. Urine gushed out, sending ripples through the puddle as it grew wider. Finally the flow ended and I sat up as the cherry haired girl approached. It took a moment to send a stupefy into her head as she collapsed.
I turned to see trickles of urine rolling down Rachel's thighs, the worst of it already happened judging by the large puddle around her legs. I sighed and saw that her attacker was squirming furiously. I quickly put myself between the two and hit the girl with a hex in the face, suddenly antlers sprang through her skull the pain must have been too much. She attempted to turn and run but her bladder voided itself, a dark stain slowly became visible as she froze. The fabric rippled as urine gushed into it, the shorts seemed to grow thoroughly soaked before a veil of urine appeared between her legs and more streams ran down her toned legs.
After the flow died down she turn to run out of the bathroom followed by a dazed cherry red haired girl. I turned and saw the leader trying to make a run for the stall but Jess sent a jinx into her face. Suddenly she fell to the ground and in seconds she was surrounded by a large puddle of urine. She pushed herself to her feet and ran out win streams of urine still falling from her yellowed shorts.
Jess started to make a run for the bathroom but suddenly her shorts turned dark as a stream fell between her legs. She froze as the warm trickles of urine ran down her bare legs as she gasped loudly. I sighed sadly as she turned to us blushing.
"I haven't peed myself since my first year."
"You wet yourself your first year?"
"On the boats, totally soaked my panties and left a puddle on the seats. Luckily no one seemed to know about it. I also had several other accidents that year in classes."
"Me either. I wet myself on the train because I was too stubborn to use the bathroom." Rachel lied.
Jess laughed. "And we all know how often your accidents are Sara." She teased. I stared at me feet.
"Oh relax, maybe you should get some good-nites or something though. Just a suggestion." She said sweetly before casting several cleaning and repairing spells on the bathroom and then leaving. I nodded absently as me and Rachel made our way out. We walked down the halls in silence before a fork came along which would split our ways.
I pointed to a mistletoe hanging above us. "You know the rules." She nodded and we began to kiss each other rather awkwardly before our lips parted and we left for our different common rooms. well she did, I on the other hand attended another legilimency lesson, which I excelled at.
Edited May 20, 2012 by Omo-secret
(see edit history) |
So next installment shall begin her fourth year at Hogwarts, something I look forward to writing. Hope you enjoy this one for now.
I sat outside my house in the warm august heat, dressed in a purple lace bikini, the bottom was tied in little bows on each side of my waist. My feet dangled from the inflated pool chair, just above the water with the royal blue nail polish covering my toe nails. My jet black hair was soaked and matted the my tanned back. My face was flawless as it soaked in the summer warmth. My bladder continued to send me signals as I tried to relax. It wasn't too urgent, but it wasn't comfortable either. The need probably had something to do with the glass bottle of lemonade hanging from my finger tips, which also had blue nail polish on.
I shrugged my shoulders slightly as I simply let go of my bladder. Despite constantly peeing myself on accident, I found doing it intentionally, more difficult. Despite the constant twinge in my lower abdomen and the slight dampness of my body which resulted from swimming earlier, I couldn't get myself to urinate. I sighed and considered dropping bag into the pool, but I didn't really feel like getting from my spot in the pool chair. I smiled, amused at my petty dilemma. Finally I came to a resolution and pressed my index finger against my slightly bulging bladder. At first I pressed lightly, but then more forcefully till a sudden burst of warm wetness gushed from my urethra. I gasped, reflexively as the urine splattered onto the plastic chair, before streaming off to the sides. On an ordinary chair the urine would have pooled beneath me and some would have remained, however this chair was magicked to repel water. The only dampness, now came from my bikini bottom which was now a few shades darker and still warm. I however continued to drink from my lemonade and lounged on the chair, ignoring the dampness till it began to grow cool, which was welcome against the heat of summer.
I remained there for another half hour till the fire pit a few yards away burst into emerald flames. Suddenly a figure emerged and my best friend Annalise was revealed. Her golden blonde hair fell to her mid back and shone in the summer sun. She was dressed in a black camisole and a black bikini bottom. She was barefoot with red toe nail polish and matching finger nail polish. In her right hand hung a thin bag that most likely contained her clothes. She smiled at me, her lips slightly done in cherry lipstick.
"Hey!" I grinned as I flopped out of the pool and ran over to greet her, making sure to thoroughly soak myself in the pool water so the urine would be drowned out by the scent of chlorine.
"Hey." She greeted cheerfully as we embraced. "So mind if I take a dip?" She said gesturing towards the pool.
"let's." I answered as we both dove into the cool water. For a while we swam and spoke about mindless gossip, however eventually our conversation took a darker, more solemn leaf.
"So did you hear about the new dark lord?" She asked referring to the re-rise of Grindlewald, a man the world assumed had been dead.
"He slaughtered a family in Godric's Hollow." I spoke softly, a chill running up my back, one which had no connection to the cold water I was treading in.
"He's looking for the Elder Wand." She said. "At least that's what they say."
"Why doesn't he go after Harry then?"
"He's afraid. Harry was the one to kill voldemort."
"True." I muttered. However I still worried for Harry whom over the summer had finally perfected my occlumency and legilimency. He had grown to be a trusted mentor of mine and I questioned how afraid Grindlewald really was.
That night me and Annalise shared my bed. She was dressed in simple light blue panties and a white night shirt and I had on my leopard print pajama pants with the brand of diaper's the nurse from Hogwarts had given me, which I restocked up on and black bra on. We were both under a midnight blue comforter and purple quilt when we finally dozed off.
I visited a reoccurring nightmare in my sleep. I was navigating through the maze from the final challenge, or rather running. I was attempting to escape from a shadowy figure that moved like smoke through the tight passageways. The only thing I ever saw of him was his pale white hair. He dashed after me as foreboding tore through my body and the world continued to descend into ominous dark shadows before the warm rain would begin. I usually figured it began when the bed wetting would, though in the dream I wouldn't be conscious enough to realize it. Finally I broke into a clearing where Rachel stood. Her wrist was always pixelated for some reason and suddenly she would use the cruciatus curse on me.
As my body would erupt in pure agony I would finally realize I was fully peeing myself as a puddle formed beneath me. The wetting was never a concern as I was too busy silently screaming and withering in pain as the beautiful Slytherin would torture me for no apparent reason. I would finally woke up in a soaked diaper. Though this time it was different. When I awoke I was aware of something between my crotch and the warm moisture of my diaper. A hand. I groggily stared at the arm which lead up to an unconscious Annalise. The next thing I became aware of was the urine that began to darken her panties. I quickly realized the warm wetness of my diaper acted like the hand in water prank.
I stared with mouth wide open in shock as a puddle begin to gush out from beneath her. It quickly spread and covered the majority of the bed, soaking me from my upper back to my mid calf and almost entirely soaked Annalise who was slowly rousing. I quickly pretended to be asleep as she gained consciousness and gasped loudly and drew her hand from my crotch.
"I'm so sorry!" She cried as she tried to shake me awake. I pretended to be half asleep when I asked her what was wrong. "I wet the bed." She sobbed.
"It's ok." I muttered to her.
"Won't your mother be man?" She asked still crying.
I shook my head. "I'll tell her I did it."
"You're wearing a diaper though."
I blushed. "yes but..." I maneuvered my hands and legs so that I ripped the diaper an pulled it off, tossing it into the trash can across the room. "I'll tell her I forgot to wear one tonight."
She thanked me before crying herself to sleep. I fell asleep as well, this time falling into a dreamless sleep till morning came around. |
So this chapter will contain a messing scene, hope you don't mind.
I woke up on the day of the first quidditch game with butterflies taking up space in my belly. I frowned at the thought of nerves besting me, so instead I ignored the feeling and grabbed a bundle of clothes before I rushed to the bathroom where I quickly joined in the bath along with several other girls. Soon I exited as I was completely clean, pulled on black panties that contained white polka-dots and had a white bow on the front, a black bra, then a black flared mini skirt, blue socks, purple converse, and a turquoise t-shirt.
A house elf took my old clothes and I left to head for the great hall and have some breakfast. I had to force the eggs and bacon down my throat along with orange juice. After so many bites I found myself sliding the food across the plate with my fork. I frowned to myself as Lisa and Hugo fed each other lamely, and Cody and Lisa flirted with each other.
"Miss me?" Fred whispered into my ear from behind. I smiled and turned around to kiss him.
"Definitely." I said, excited to see him again.
"Sorry I've been so busy with classes and quidditch." He frowned softly.
"It's fine, just glad to see you now." I kissed him again, each kiss sent guilt through my veins. As much as I liked Fred... it was hard being so close to Rachel, who had claimed to love me.
"Well we have the day off, what would you like to do?"
"Not one to take charge, are you?" I teased him.
"shush."
"Then pick for me." I smiled at him.
"Let's go fly till lunch, then we will have a picnic on the quiddith pitch."
"So much quidditch related things just before my first match." I giggled as we left the table.
"You don't want to?"
"No, I do." I smiled as we left to the pitch where we both mounted broom when I realized something. "I need to change into my uniform."
"Why?" He asked simply.
"Because anyone who walks by will be able to see up my skirt." I muttered blushing.
"No one will walk across the pitch. If they do, they will have to answer to me." He smirked as he soared into the sky. I smirked and chased after him. He soared through the sky, playing tag on our brooms, except rather than tapping each other we would plant a kiss on each others lips. Finally lunch came around and we both landed on the field when Djinn appeared before us.
"Hello, masters. I has brought food." He snapped his fingers and a basket appeared. We thanked him and he popped out.
"Let's eat." I said and we both had a platter of sandwiches, cookies and a bag of potato chips before our date ended and we had a long passionate kiss before I had to go meet up with my arriving team and prepare for the match. Djinn cleaned up for us as we left the field.
I slipped off my street clothes and pulled on my uniform and grabbed my broom and entered the field along with my team where we met the Slytherin team. We took to the skies as the game began. First the quaffle was released, as the chasers shot through the sky to chase after the ball two bludgers whipped through the air. Lastly the tiny gold ball shot into the sky and whizzed through the chaos of the game. I shot after the last direction I saw it fly. I weaved my way through the hurtling wizards and witches in search of the snitch.
In the corner of my eye I caught the hint of gold. I made a sharp turn and avoided nearly colliding with a slytherin brute who played beater. I caught sight of the snitch again and raced after it. A beater hurtled towards me frantically. I ducked down and aloud my broom to lose height as the beater's shoe brushed against my ponytail and I shot forward after the snitch. I closed in on it when I noticed Rachel racing towards it directly opposite of me. The Snitch shot up at the last second, causing me and Rachel to nearly collide. My broom crossed over hers and our face hung an inch between each other.
In the moment of peace, when things weren't so frantic, I realized how badly I needed to use the bathroom and how badly my team was using as the announcer gave the new score after Slytherin scored another point.. I gasped and pulled back before hurtling straight up into the sky, searching for the snitch and Rachel followed after me. I crossed my legs more tightly than usually hoping to just end the game. As the snitch leveled out so did I, and slightly behind me, so did Rachel. I was so close to the snitch when A bludger slammed straight into my shoulder. I spun right as I grabbed my shoulder in pain. I cried out as urine began to fill my panties. I stemmed the flow as Rachel just missed the snitch which suddenly dropped.
I hurtled after it, maneuvering to the best of my ability till me and Rachel were neck and neck, with the snitch just out of arms reach. She seemed unfocused though, as was I, since I was desperately trying to not mess my pants. I groaned softly as my lower abdomen throbbed. I grit my teeth, and pushed my broom to the best of its ability, gaining maybe and inch more than I already was. My outstretched hand neared the snitch, I could feel the flutter of the wings against the tip of my middle finger. I tried to stretch further as a spurt escaped into my bladder. I grit my teeth even harder, uncrossed my legs, shimmied up my broom and lunged myself forward and just gabbed the snitch as my broom veered to the ground. I just evaded the earth and landed on the ground with the snitch in hand.
The audience applauded and my team cheered for me as we entered the dressing room. I pulled on my street clothes and rushed from the room when Fred caught me just outside the field. He kissed me, I forged myself to hold on longer and kissed him back. The kiss ran longer than it should have and I felt urine beginning to slip from my urethra. I pulled away. "I... have to go." I muttered as urine soaked my panties and began to slither down my leg. Her was oblivious to the flow though.
"Go where?"
"...Never mind." I muttered to embarrassed to admit that I was about to not only wet myself fully, but also mess myself. He smiled and kissed me again, and my bladder finally gave out entirely. Oddly he didn't notice the hiss as rivulets ran down my legs and into my shoes and the grass below. I pulled back and gasped as I faintly hear a crackle as a solid mass began to push against my panties.
"I have to go!" I pushed him away and ran with urine still running down my legs and finally I couldn't hold my bowels either. Feces completely filled my panties with a rude noise, causing my panties to bulge. I gasped as I felt it begin to fall out my leg holes. My hand flew to my butt, slipping under the skirt to grasp the warm bulge and try to contain it in my underwear as I ambled towards the bathroom. Amazingly I made it there, despite the laughing and mocking of other students around me. I rushed into a stall sat on the seat before pulling off my shoes and socks. Then I carefully slipped of the panties and dropped the feces into the toilet and began to try and wipe scat of my thighs and butt. I directed my wand at my butt and sent a small stream of water at it, cleaning the mess from my body before glancing at my ruined panties. I frowned as I banished it and dashed up to my dormitory. I found myself crying myself to sleep once again.
Please leave feedback, thank you;) |
Hey all, so I just posted some about myself in the "introductions" forum, so now I figured I'd contribute a story of mine! I've already posted it on experienceproject, but hopefully you all still like it. It features prolonged desperation, male and female, with the characters having very large and powerful bladders. And it is the first story of substantial length that I ever wrote. It took me forever, but one day I finally got inspiration to finish it and did. I'd love to hear some feedback. So here it is, A Hold To Remember:
Hey there. I have a great story about a time I held in my pee for a very long time. I’m a 24-year-old blonde woman, tall, and in good shape. So it all started one morning a few weeks ago. I woke up, got out of bed, went into the bathroom, and took a nice hot shower. When I got out I brushed my teeth, combed my hair, and all that stuff that one normally does in their morning bathroom visit; except, that is, use the toilet. I had emptied my bladder the previous night, and was not feeling any urge to go, and as I know I can hold a lot and hold it for a very, very long time, I refrained from going. After that I went about my morning as normal, having a few cups of coffee with my breakfast.
Having eaten, I went out and did some shopping, finding a new blouse and some new panties. As the day progressed, my stomach began rumbling with more and more force, until I was forced to stop shopping around 1 pm to get some lunch. I went to the local Subway, where by coincidence I ran into a longtime friend, Cindy, who I would go clubbing with every so often. And, expectedly, she invited me to go out with her and some other friends for a night on the town. I had nothing planned for that night, so I readily agreed. After eating with her, and having a large Mountain Dew, we went shopping together for some hours. Around this time I began to feel some pangs in my abdominal region, telling me that my bladder was indeed feeling the effects of the drinks I had been consuming. Still, it was no problem at all, and I knew I could just keep holding it, so that’s what I did. Cindy, on the other hand, began complaining about needing a trip to the bathroom not too long after lunch, and as we entered a clothing store, she excused herself as soon as she saw a restroom sign.
Finally it was dinnertime, and Cindy told me that she and the rest of the group had made a reservation at a rather nice restaurant to start the evening off. The reservation was for 7, and as it was already past 6:30, we decided to get a move on. First, however, she excused herself once more to go to the restroom at the store we were now in. She waited a bit, as if expecting me to follow, and after a short pause I did, but I stopped and waited for her outside the door. Cindy seemed a bit surprised that I was not availing myself to the toilet just before dinner, as it had been over 5 hours since we had met up, and she had already used the bathroom, but I still was not having too many problems holding it in, though I will admit that by this point I had a decent urge to go and pee.
We arrived at the dinner only 10 minutes late, and had a very nice waitress come to give us our orders. Everyone ordered drinks from the wine menu, and a few, including myself and two of the men, Brad and Shawn, also got glasses of water to counterbalance the effects of the wine. We stayed at the table eating, drinking, and laughing for a little over an hour, before taking a short walk to the first club of the night. Once we got in we went up to the bar and ordered drinks; well, all of us except Cindy and one of the guys, who told us they were hitting the bathrooms and would be right back. By the time I had finished my first cocktail I could tell that my bladder was sending me increasingly strong signals that it wanted relief, and though I could still hold back my pee without too much difficulty, I found that I was pressing my legs together more than normal.
I had another cocktail while there, then we took off for another club. This time when I got up I felt a definite lurch from my bladder and had to bend over for a second while squeezing my legs together to keep completely sure I had firm control over myself. The walk to this next club was also a bit tough, but I managed it alright. My bladder was now containing about 22 hours worth of pee, so its fullness was to be expected. Still, I knew I have a very strong bladder, so I continued to wait instead of using the bathrooms. On the other side of the coin, as soon as we got to the second club, a good deal of our party had to leave to use the bathrooms before sitting down for their first drink. Only myself, Brad, Shawn, a woman named Sandra who seemed to be a few years older than everyone else, and a few others did not use the facilities. I had a couple pints of beer while at this club, and soon I noticed Shawn shifting around uneasily. After a half hour of his squirming, which was becoming more pronounced, he finally got up, squeezing his crotch with one hand, and made his way to the men’s room.
When we left this club, it was around 11 at night, and we wanted to hit up one more club before calling it a successful evening. By this time my bladder was very full, and I was having to squirm back and forth just a little, and with my legs either crossed or pressed firmly together, to keep all of that pee in there. Cindy was looking at me as we left, and seemed more than a bit shocked that I still hadn’t peed since meeting her. If only she knew I hadn’t peed at all that day! Brad and Sandra were also giving me a curious look or two as we headed for club number three, as they were the only others that had also stayed at the bar the entire time without getting up.
We made it to the final club and sat ourselves down at the bar. I had to pee quite badly now, but had decided with myself that I was not going to go until we were done clubbing. Plus, I knew my bladder, while very full, could still last without being relieved. Also, I was beginning to get a bit curious myself as to how good Brad and Sandra were at holding, and if they would also last this final club without a visit to the loo. The more I watched them, it appeared that they were in a relationship, as they were hugging each other a lot and were not being very shy with each other. I decided to make this last stop a bit more interesting, so I resolved to drink the same amount as Brad and Sandra did, as they seemed to have been keeping pace with each other for the whole night. My bladder shuddered as I saw them each order a pint of shandy, but I was confident in my ability to wait, and ordered the same.
An hour and another pint later, my bladder was begging to release the now more than 25 hours of pee that it had been storing. I was pretty fidgety by this point, but as I looked over at Brad’s right leg, I could see that it was moving up and down considerably, and with great regularity, and Sandra, who was standing beside him for the moment, was crossing her legs and dipping down every so often. It was quite obvious that all three of us were in rather desperate need of the bathroom, so much so that Cindy even came over and offered to show me where it was, as she was going for what seemed like the hundreth time that night. I told her I didn’t have to go, smiled, and forced myself to sit still. She stayed and watched me for a minute, which was pure agony for my bladder muscles, but then she was gone and I was free to squirm again.
My bladder now back under control, I turned to see Brad and Sandra both staring at me. I stared back and smiled, my need obvious, though they seemed to have gotten some more room in their bladders, for they appeared to be a bit less fidgety than before. Finally Brad broke the silence and asked me, “So you like holding it as well?” I looked at him, saw he was serious, and replied, “Yes, very much, especially because I’m good at it.” At this they smiled, and Sandra said to me “So are we!…Fancy another pint then?” I paused for a moment, considered my bladder’s current condition, and told her “Yes, of course, I’d love one more.” With that the bartender came over, and our drinks were refilled.
We drank, all three of us squirming a very good deal, hands occasionally kneading our crotches, legs crossed for long stretches of time, until finally we were all finished. “Still doing alright?” Sandra asked me. “Yes,” I replied, “I can still hold it all. I assume you two can as well?” They both nodded, then looked at each other. They seemed to be having a sort of mental conversation, and it went on with nothing but looks and slight head movements for a minute or two, before they looked back at me and Brad said, “You really like holding it, don’t you? Sandra and I have been looking for another woman who’s into it and is as good as we are for some time! Think you’d like to have some holding contests and games with us?” I loved the idea, and told them so. They beamed, then told me to follow them. I readily did, as we all waved goodbye to Cindy and the rest of the bunch.
Walking down the street was not easy business for any of us, but we squirmed our way down a few side streets before coming out back near the main road, where we got a taxi and Brad gave the driver an address. I assumed we were going to their house, as Brad had told me we would be doing during our short walk, and was thus surprised when we got out of the cab right at another club. I looked questioningly at Brad, who smiled and said, “Don’t worry, we’re pretty near bursting too, we’ll just have one pint here and be off.” Sandra added in, “It’s what we do to end a good night of holding; have one final pint when we think we can’t.” I felt a wave of urgency as I entered the club, but I took Brad and Sandra at their word, still trusting my bladder to be good for one more pint.
We found a spot at the bar, ordered our drinks, and set about squirming around once more. A look from the bartender as he got us our drinks told us that he knew we were in serious need of the restrooms, though he said nothing. Gulping down this last pint, I felt my bladder being filled to its absolute capacity. My holding muscles were tiring some, but, though I was desperate, I still was quite sure that I would not wet myself. I guessed Brad and Sandra felt the same way, as they were not rushing a good deal to drink their pints, nor was I. Eventually we all finished, and resolved to head back to Brad and Sandra’s house which, they told me, was a bit of a mansion actually. Getting up one final time from the bar was quite difficult, as another, larger, wave of urgency swept over me. I tightened my sphincter as hard as I could and managed to hold it all in. When I looked over at Brad and Sandra, they too seemed to be going through their own struggles with their bladders, though all of us made it back into a free taxi without a drop lost.
Twenty minutes of bladder pain later, we arrived at the mansion. I got out of the taxi and my jaw dropped. The place was HUGE. Brad and Sandra laughed a bit at my reaction and told me that they were actually quite, quite rich, and were thus able to enjoy their holding games whenever they wanted. I felt so envious of them, for I had always had to make sure I didn’t have anything important going on in the office I had been working at for the past year before deciding to hold it. When I told them this, they considered it briefly, then made me an offer I totally didn’t expect. “Look,” Sandra said, “we really like you, and you’re great to include in our holding contests. How about this? If you can hold it as long as us then we’ll let you live in your own room in the mansion, and you’ll never have to work again.” I don’t think I’ve ever said yes to someone faster than I did right then. She then warned me that I may have to end up holding it for some extra hours, and she and Brad hadn’t peed since the previous evening. They seemed impressed when I told them the same thing.
We entered the mansion, and it seemed to be even larger inside than it looked from the road. Of course, I couldn’t take much time to gaze at how nice everything was, because my bladder was sending waves of desperation through my body and I had to fully concentrate on my sphincter muscles to hang on. “So what now?” I asked them once we were inside. “Well, now we’ll just…..sit down, and see how much longer we can last.” Brad said, having to pause midway to clutch his crotch hard. “Oh,” I told them, “I was thinking of something else.” “What?” asked Sandra. “Well,” I said, “I was thinking we could go to bed now and try and last until morning…unless, of course, you can’t do it.” The challenge at the end made them smirk a little, and the looked at each other briefly, and then back at me. “I’m liking her more and more already. Ok, you’re on!” Sandra said.
Before we could head upstairs, Brad walked as fast as he could, which by this time was not very, to the kitchen, where from he produced another glass of water for each of us. “I thought we might need a drink before we head up,” he told us, his smile returning despite his desperation. Sandra and I quickly agreed that we were both oh-so-very thirsty, and we all took the cups and drained them. Then we hobbled up the stairs to the second floor. “So where’s my room?” I asked them, dipping and bobbing in desperation. Sandra looked at Brad and they both smiled again. She said to me, “Why don’t you just come into our room and sleep with us?” I did not need to be asked twice, and before long we were all lying on their bed, naked and squirming.
Before long we noticed that Brad’s penis was standing at attention, and Sandra implored me to help her do something about it. An hour of wild three-way full bladder sex ensued. We kept bouncing on each other’s bladders and pushing on them, and it felt so good for all of us. I lost count of the number of orgasms everyone experienced. And our bladders were so strong that we were just able to keep holding on after cumming without losing so much as a drop of pee. Finally spent, we all laid in bed, sweating and shaking, both from the intensity of the sex and the desperate urgings of our swollen bladders, which seemed to have doubled. Luckily, we were all so exhausted that sleep overtook us before we knew it.
When I woke up the next morning, the first thing I noticed was that I wasn’t in my own home. The second thing I noticed was an almost ungodly need to use the bathroom. As I grasped for dear life between my legs, willing myself to hold in all my pee, the previous day’s events all came back to me. I smiled despite the pain in my bladder. I reached down and felt it, and took my hand away almost immediately when I realized how very full it was. My bladder was gigantic, possibly containing more pee that it ever had before, and I loved how huge it appeared. I looked a couple months pregnant with pee. Forgoing clothes, I got out of bed gingerly, telling myself strictly that I was not to pee yet, for the morning urge would surely subside soon. I made it down the steps very carefully, and found Sandra and Brad in the kitchen, making breakfast, also in the nude.
They were both dancing around from the need of their bladders. They were running around frantically, trying to finish making food without losing their pee in the process. I could tell it was going to be a close thing. Their bladders were bulging out just as much as mine was, and I could tell that this level of holding was new territory for all three of us. Sandra was the first to see me. “Hello there.” She said, walking in place to keep control of herself. “Hello!” Brad said without turning around from his place at the stove. He was flipping eggs with one hand and had the other one firmly on his penis. “Fancy some breakfast, dear?” Sandra asked me, putting plates on the table as quickly as she could. “Ye…..yes please.” I said, pausing as a wave of urgency ripped through me. Our bladders were all soooo full. Brad put the eggs on plates, and Sandra fetched some toast and bacon. Then Brad began pouring us each a mug of coffee and a glass of orange juice. Sandra and I both moaned and squeezed ourselves for all we were worth as Brad tried his best to finish pouring.
Finally we all sat down for breakfast, three pairs of legs crossed very tightly, all of us bouncing up and down trying to keep in all of our pee. Not much was said, as we were all embroiled in our own separate battles with our distended bladders. Just when I thought breakfast was finally over Brad refilled our glasses with orange juice, and by the time that was done, the need to pee was getting dire. “Oh my God, this feels so good! I don’t want it to end yet!” Sandra moaned, and Brad and I couldn’t help but agree. I tried to think of something for us to do, but it was difficult to ignore my bladder long enough. Finally I got an idea. “How about a movie?” I suggested. “Ok.” Brad said and began hobbling to the living room to find a DVD. “No, no,” I stopped him, “I mean we go to a THEATER and see a movie.” Sandra and Brad stared back at me with looks of pure terror. “What if we can’t hold it?? I’m already bursting more than ever!” Sandra yelped, hands desperately kneading her crotch. “What? Afraid your iron bladders aren’t up to the challenge?” I smirked back, even though I was bobbing wildly with crossed legs at this point. Brad and Sandra looked nervously towards each other, and finally Brad smiled. “Alright, let’s do it, my bladder could use some training anyways,” he said. Sandra moaned loudly but agreed as well. I gave a little fist pump and we hobbled to their car after dressing, where their butler Jeeves had just pulled in. He smiled and agreed to drive us to the theater, as none of us were capable of it.
We arrived and looked at the movies. “Ah! Bedazzled! It’s the shortest one!” Sandra cried. They went up to buy tickets, but right as we reached the desk I cut in front of them and bought three tickets for Avatar instead. We bought 1 liter waters for ourselves and then sat down in the back of the theater. There we sat, with 36 hours separating us from our last bathroom visit, all squirming constantly to hold our personal floods at bay. An hour in and Brad had a death grip on his dick, keeping his pee forced inside. Sandra looked as if she would lose it any second. Her legs were double crossed and she was panting and grinding her hands into her vagina. I had my thighs squeezed together hard enough to crush diamonds, and my bladder was constantly pulsing with huge amounts of need.
Somehow the movie ended before our control did, though it was a very close call. Jeeves arrived to take us home, and when we reached the bedroom and got nude again all hell broke loose with our extreme urges to finally pee. Sandra was pee dancing as if her life depended on it, oooh-ing and aaah-ing like crazy. Brad was moaning in agony as he held his penis. I was plugging up my pussy with both hands and was frantically jogging in place. Somehow, our iron control of our sphincter muscles allowed us to all hang on for another hour in this state, puffing and sweating and cursing and hopping around.
Then Sandra’s bladder gave in to its unbearable need. She moaned so loudly that I turned to look at her, and when I did, I saw that there was a wet spot on the floor beneath her and a dribble coming from between her legs. Desperately she flew to the bathroom and sat on the toilet for the first time in nearly 40 hours. She screamed with pleasure as her bladder unloaded its massive contents. The sound of her long held pee hitting the bowl was too much for Brad to handle. Pee began coming out of his dick despite his grip, and he too rushed into the bathroom and began uncontrollably wetting between Sandra’s legs and into the toilet. The relief was so great for Brad that he could barely stand, getting weak at the knees from the sensation of finally wetting.
I made my way into the bathroom to watch this spectacle, two expert holders finally losing the battle with their iron bladders. My bladder was sending unbelievable waves and cramps to try and get me to follow their example, but I grimly pressed on my vagina harder and held on with the last shreds of my exceptional control. After over 3 minutes, Sandra’s stream died down, and after another minute Brad’s did as well. They were so lost in the pleasure of their pee that they didn’t realize I was there as well until I couldn’t help but start yelling from the pee pressure. Then they looked at me and Sandra smiled and said to Brad, “Well, she certainly lasted as long as us, even longer in fact, and that was the most fun I’ve ever had holding it!” Brad nodded in agreement, then looked at my desperate, clutching form and said, “You win. You get to stay with us if you’d like.” I didn’t hear him, however, for at that moment I felt my sphincter start to give out and I bore down with everything I had left to keep my pee in me. I knew it would start jetting out of me any second. Brad repeated himself to me, and this time I heard and looked up. “Thank you……..the toilet…..i must….” I got out between gasps. He looked at me, still smiling. “Oh, right, of course, how silly of us. Come on, Sandra, I think this girl needs some relief.” With that they moved away from the toilet and I threw myself upon it. As soon as my butt hit the white porcelain my pee began spewing out of me. I was like a tap on full blast. The relief I felt was indescribable. I had so much pee in me that it took minutes to get my bladder empty, even with how forcefully I was hissing the pee out. Finally my stream ended and I slumped back on the toilet, relieved at last. And as I heard some moans of pleasure coming from the bedroom, I knew that some empty-bladder sex was just what the doctor ordered.
Unfortunately this story is fiction, but I'd love it if the people in this story were real. =) |
I wrote this on Experienceproject.com and I thought this would be a great place to share it as well. Sorry the formatting is weird, for some reason indents at the start of paragraphs don't show up.
One day in the summer, two beautiful girls were in on of their backyards. they were planning on having a little fun today. since they had nothing better to do they had decided to experiment with pooping and peeing their panties on purpose.
Their names were Eliza and Emma. Eliza was the shorter of the two with a C cup breast and long blond hair that was braided into two babyish pigtails. She was wearing a knee length baby blue skirt, long socks, little shoes that looked like a babies, and a light pink frilly top finished off her outfit perfectly her panties were pink with red flowers on them.
Emma, who was about six inches taller than Eliza. She had a DD cup breast and curly brown hair about shoulder length. She was wearing a similar plaid skirt, socks and top. her hair was in a ponytail and her panties were sheer light yellow over a Disney princesses pull-up.
the girls had been holding in their poop for 4 days and they were bursting. they had gone out for dinner the night before and had curry. they had also been holding in their pee since last night. Emma kept saying that she did not need to use the restroom which was surprising because she had a weak bladder. because of Emma's "not having to go" Eliza went first.
Emma said" Eliza, i want to be able to see when you do this. it will be cool because if you do not i wont let you watch when i go." Eliza pulled up the front of her skirt with a rueful grin, her her pink flowered panties showing beautifully.
she was still a little apprehensive about doing this so she psyched herself up by saying "I'm gonna go, I'm going, I'm going"
At that moment, a dark spot appeared on her pink flowered panties showing the wet spot beautifully. As the pee started to dribble from her panties, Eliza Regulated the flow of pee to prolong the warm wet Ecstasy that she was feeling. "You really had to go" said Emma.
"I did" said Eliza in a babyish voice, reveling in the warmth of her pee. it felt so good that she couldn't help giving a couple of rubs in her vaginal direction.
After she had finished, she gave herself a shake to get the dribbles off of her panties. "It's running down my leg" she said "into my sock". Emma made her do a twirl around and show her the back of her panties which were really wet.
"Ha ha" Emma laughed, "I'm telling your mom!, Ha ha." "you had better not!" Eliza growled,"If you lock me out so that my parents find me you had BETTER let me in!"
Emma laughed again "Eliza, don't sweat it, I would never do that to you."
"Good because I have to go poop" Eliza stated matter o-factly. "Don't let me stop you" said Emma
As Eliza turned around, Emma noticed something, "Oh Eliza, you have a wedgie..."
Even as Emma said that, Eliza let loose a soft warm log that pushed into her flowered panties, softly crackling, bulging them and distorting them until the wedgie that she had spoken of was entirely reversed and instead a 5 inch tent stood in its place. Eliza let out a small moan of pleasure, as Emma gasped in wonder. The poo that was holding the tent in place was soft and compressed withe the elasticity of her panties. this log was followed by some soft smooth snakes that were waiting to come out. some of it came out the waist and leg bands of her panties.
Emma was shocked and all she could hear was Eliza's gasps of pleasure, and her own heightened breaths. Eliza said "that felt so good"
Emma replied "now I have to go" "Then go" said Eliza.
Emma pulled up her skirt remembering her promise. her sheer pink panties showing her pull-up. the little purple slippers that disappear when wet. Cinderella showing faintly as if she was a ghost.
then all of a sudden a loud hissing noise was heard and the purple slippers started to disappear. the pull-up expanded visibly for about 10 seconds and then she was done and the hissing quieted, then stopped.
Emma was taking the warmth in like she needed it to live. she was shaking. the large pool that was at the bottom of her pull-up leaked out at the slightest movement from her.
Finally Eliza found her toung and said "You REALLY had to go." Emma said "yeah"
" Turn around", said Eliza "I can't because it will all spill out."
"not a very good diaper is it?" "It is not a diaper it is a pull-up silly, big difference."
"Turn around anyway" "oh ok" as Emma turned around, just as she had predicted, the diaper leaked spilling much of her pee down her legs and soaking into her socks so that the tops about 4 inches down turned yellow.
"woah!" said Eliza "that was cool!" "can it be cool later?" asked Emma "I really have to poop!" Then go!
"Ahhhh" said Emma "oh yes."
the pull-up was on the move again. her bottom had one spot where there was a bulge originating from but it was quickly buried in mounds of poo. the poop surged along the gusset of the pull-up licking her labia and making her cum. the poo then finding nowhere else to go, splurged out of the waistband and leg gathers of the pull-up.
wow said Eliza. yes said Emma. that was amazing. that made me aroused lets go clean up, or not.
The End |
Here's a story I just finished! I was really aroused the past two days, so I wrote it with basically no plot, focusing only on the basics of desperation. Still, I hope everyone likes it! It features both male and female desperation. Enjoy! Feedback is definitely welcome and appreciated, along with new story ideas.
My Iron-Bladdered Family
The rest of my family seems to have iron bladders. I swear, I never see any of them pee….ever! It’s like they only do it when I’m not around to see it. So I decided to follow them all around, one by one, to catch them in the act!
My brother Ben was first. He was 16 and played football for the high school team. I’d heard the toilet flush just before bed the previous night, and assumed it was him, but I needed to know for sure! So when we got up, he didn’t pee, and I made sure he drank a lot at breakfast. I followed him in school the whole day instead of going to my classes. He drank tons from the water fountains and at lunch, and always had a bottle of water with him, which I was more than happy to keep refilling. By the end of the day, 16 and a half hours of holding, he was fidgeting, and his bulge was really big under his shirt, but he simply went to football practice without a pee. He was grabbing at his crotch throughout the entire practice, but he held on. When the team went back to the locker room though, after 19 hours of holding, his bladder was at full capacity. He struggled out of his uniform, and then went, naked to the toilets, where he unloaded a 2 and a half minute stream from his bulging bladder.
My dad was next. I knew he had a big bladder, so, after narrowly missing seeing him wetting in the morning one day, we went out together to do some errands. He drank loads of drinks all day but never went looking for the bathroom. By early afternoon he had a bulge developing, and it was absolutely swollen by the evening when we returned home, after 10 hours of holding. But I kept him away from the toilet all night. After 14 hours he was fidgeting, but also very tired, so I sensed he was going to pee and go to bed. To stop him, I decided to take a long shower in the bathroom, preventing him from entering! He groaned but just went to his room to go to sleep, bursting bladder and all! I woke up early the next morning and camped outside the bathroom to make sure I wouldn’t miss the show. My dad finally awoke, his 24 hour bladder now positively aching with pee pressure, and stumbled immediately to the bathroom. “Hey Dad, can you make me some breakfast first?” I asked innocently. My dad, being a big strong guy, never will admit when his bladder gets the best of him, so he crossed his legs deeply and went into the kitchen. He pee danced, squeezed himself, and cursed multiple times while making some food, and kept messing up and having to start over because he was shaking so badly. Finally, after 25 hours of holding, he made my meal and raced into the bathroom, where he let out as hard a stream as he ever has for 3 minutes! He was extremely relieved afterwards.
My older sister, 18, was next. Her bladder was so large that she was known even to her friends as “Iron Bladder”. For her I used a different tactic. I was direct. I told her flat out that I wanted to see her unable to hold her pee. “No way, dork. That’s not gonna happen. I never have to pee, I always hold it!” she said to me. When I challenged her that even she would have to pee some time, she bristled and decided to prove me wrong. At midnight, she took a pee, not letting me watch or listen, and she proclaimed that she would hold it “until I was tired of this game.” Little did she know that wasn’t going to happen! The next morning we got up and I followed her through her day in school. In addition to two large espressos in the morning from Starbucks, she drank 2 liters of water, pop, and lemonade throughout the day. No bathroom breaks for her! We got home, hung out, had dinner, and by the time we were ready to go to bed she said to me “Ok, see? 24 hours and I’m still not going. And look at this! That’s what I’m holding back.” She lifted her shirt and motioned to her bladder, which was sticking out a good few inches. I knew she’d break eventually, so I faked being unimpressed, making her more determined than ever to keep holding. We went to bed and woke up the next day, and I caught her coming out of the bathroom before leaving for school. I accused her of peeing, but she replied, annoyed, “Oh, calm down brat, I didn’t pee and lose your stupid game. Does this feel like the bladder of someone who just peed, or someone who’s got a sphincter of steel?” My sister put my hand on her protruding bladder, and it was quite hard and firm. We went to school again, and again she drank a ton throughout the day. By the end of the day, 3 pm, she seemed a little fidgety, as anyone would with a 39 hours full bladder. It was the weekend, and her friends had planned a sleepover. I knew she’d take the opportunity to pee there, so I insisted on coming with them. “Why does he want to come so badly?” My sister’s one girlfriend asked. “Oh, he’s just being dumb. He wants to watch me pee myself. Like he doesn’t know I’m the Iron Bladder around here!” she said back. Her friends noticed her huge bladder bulge and “oooh’d” and “ahhh’d” over it for a while, then we all went to her one friend’s house to sleep over. That meant more drinks for Miss Iron Bladder, and by 43 hours into her hold she was squirming around. We all began to tease her about the Iron Bladder finally having to take a pee break, but she just told us to shut up, and that she was still ok. However this was far from the truth, and as the night wore on she began moaning incessantly from bladder agony. Everyone had stopped what they were doing and were simply waiting for her to burst. She was full to the brim, muttering to herself that she could keep holding on. My sister’s hands were buried in her crotch, and she fought the urge with everything she had, but after 47 hours the pressure finally overwhelmed her exhausted sphincter muscle. She couldn’t even run to the toilet, that’s how desperate she was! She just threw down her jeans and panties and let it rip right there on the floor of her friend’s room while we all watched in awe. For four minutes a thick, ropey jet of pee shot out of my sister’s pussy, drenching everything in the room and splattering onto us as well. It took a long time, but I had done it, I had broken the Iron Bladder!
Next on my list was my 19 year old cousin Christine. She was a tough farm girl, a real tomboy, and I’d never seen her need to pee, even when she had stayed a night at my house before. But when I got the chance to stay over at my aunt’s house for a while, I knew the time had come to make her lose her load. They picked me up from the airport at 11 am, and when I asked her if she still had her mammoth bladder, she told me that she did, but responded moaningly that her mom wouldn’t let her leave this morning without a pee break, so she’d gone at 10 am. “Last time for a while though,” she told me. Once we got back to her place, we spent the day on the farm together, milking the cows and feeding the chickens and such, before goofing around in the fields in the evening. Christine had drank a ton of water to combat the heat, and by the time we went inside I could see her bladder was bulging under her tiny tight jeans shorts. We woke up early the next morning to tend to the farm once again, and after 24 hours Christine still showed no signs of needing to release her pee. By that evening she seemed distracted and fidgety, but I knew she’d never want to look like a weak little girl by running off to pee, so she held in her load, despite having drunk two full pitchers of her mom’s special iced tea over the course of the day. She couldn’t resist one more glass before bed, and when she got up the next day, with 46 hours since her last pee, her bladder looked huge! She seemed to be considering taking a toilet break, but after seeing me watching her, Christine put off her need and we went out to the farm once more. By the 50th hour she was squatting on her heel and holding her crotch when she thought I wasn’t looking, and by the 52nd hour she was doing it regardless. Her bloated abdomen looked like it was containing a bowling ball! “I’m not a weak girl, I’m not a weak girl” I heard her muttering to herself. It was such a treat to see my tough farm girl cousin flat out dancing in desperation, unable to ignore the enormous pressure in her bladder any longer. Her bladder was begging to be emptied, the pee bearing down on her sphincter with pounds of pressure. After 54 hours of holding, the biggest wave of urgency yet swept over her bladder, and Christine fought it briefly, struggling and straining, legs crossed, sweat dripping down her face, and over her fit stomach and bulbous, quivering bladder, before finally giving in to the call of nature. She ran over to the barn, propped herself up against the side of it and yanked down her jeans shorts and panties. The pee burst out of her before she could even squat properly, and she pissed an incredible torrent for 4 and a half minutes! After she finished, she wiped herself with her hand, pulled her shorts back up, and saw me staring at her, mouth gaping wide. Christine simply smiled and asked me if I’d enjoyed the show, then went back to work.
I was down to the final iron bladder in my family, but I knew that this one would be the toughest to beat. I knew my mom’s bladder was absolutely huge, and she would never admit to needing a pee no matter what the circumstances were. In fact, many times she told me she just wouldn’t pee for that day, like it was nothing. That was totally normal for her. I’d never even seen her desperate, so I arranged to take a trip, just the two of us. Again, I was fairly certain she’d peed the night before, but not that morning. We left, stopping for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, at various diners. My mom consumed a ton of beverages there, and I made sure to always get her an extra refill. I also got her a coffee for staying awake while driving. Finally we pulled into a motel to spend the night, and my mom’s bladder hadn’t been emptied for 24 hours! I could see a definite bulge when she undressed and changed into her nightwear, but she didn’t seem bothered by it, not even a little! She just went to sleep with her bursting bladder! We woke up the next morning, now 34 hours with no bathroom break for my mom, and she just went to the bathroom to brush her teeth. Even standing right next to the toilet, she didn’t have to fidget or anything. And her bladder was looking positively massive now! She dressed in a blouse and tight jeans, and we went about our day. Breakfast with two cups of juice and a coffee – no noticeable urge for her. Lunch, 39 hours with no pee, a big glass of water, followed by a refill – she was still fine. I could see the button of her jeans bursting at the seams, just like her bladder had to be, but my mom showed no signs of letting her pent up pee out any time soon. When we went to dinner, 45 hours without relief, I finally saw what I had been looking for for nearly two days! My mom was looking a bit sweaty, and craned her neck in the direction of the restrooms at the fancy restaurant we were at. But then…nothing. She made no move to make use of them. Three glasses of water, topped off with three more glasses of white wine, and my mom began to fidget ever so slightly in her seat. But we left without a word as to her condition. We went back to the motel to sleep, and my mom managed to suppress her urge and sleep with an absolutely bulging, desperate, 48 hour bladder! I could not believe her stamina! When we woke the next morning, my mom seemed fidgety and hurried, but she still wouldn’t use the motel loo. We left for home, and I was sad that I wasn’t going to see her pee after all! After eating breakfast and lunch on the road, complete with four total glasses of juice and iced tea for my mom’s already expanded bladder, we reached home, 64 hours since my mom last took a pee break. To my complete surprise, she didn’t immediately enter the bathroom upon returning, despite the fact that she was breathing heavily and moving around a lot. Instead she began cleaning and cooking! My mom was doing a subtle pee dance all around the house, but she refused to give in to the needs of her bladder. It was so swollen, but she wouldn’t even unbutton her jeans for it. We ate dinner, the whole family, 68 hours into my mom’s hold, and she managed to make small talk despite now clearly bursting for the toilet! After dinner, she did the dishes, crossing her legs the whole time. Then she went into the den and began to read a book, constantly squirming on the sofa. That night, after 72 hours without the slightest bit of relief, I saw that my mom was about to get up and finally use the toilet. So I made my move! “Mom, do you want to watch a movie?” I asked innocently, as she was halfway off the couch. My mom would never turn down something because of her bladder on principle, so her eyes widened, she gasped, and she agreed. To her dismay, I picked out the first Lord of the Rings movie to watch, despite her pleas for a short comedy. We watched the three hour epic, and by the time it finished my mom was bouncing on the couch and holding her crotch openly with her hands to stay dry. Her bladder bulge was totally obscene. She looked months pregnant almost! Once it ended she made to get up, but I grabbed her and pushed her back down gently. My gosh her bladder was firm! It was rock hard! “What, do you have to pee or something?” I asked, knowing full well she hadn’t taken a pee for 75 hours. “No…I’m fine,” she gulped, willing her muscles to hold. I could tell just how much effort it was taking to sit upright and chat with me. I knew she wanted nothing more than to go to her bathroom upstairs and release all that pent-up pee, so I made up another lie. “I’m not feeling so well, I think I’m just gonna sleep right outside the bathroom on the floor with my sleeping bag so I can use it if my stomach acts up!” I told her. My mom’s look was a look of horror, but she gasped and agreed that if I really thought I had to, I could. I didn’t sleep a wink that night, and neither did she! I heard her up all night, pee dancing frantically in her room. She went downstairs to start breakfast especially early, but I knew the real reason was to wake me up so she could finally take her much needed pee! My mom called the family down for breakfast, 82 hours since she’d peed last. Her bladder was so totally enormous now that she could barely walk. My mom was just waddling to and from the table, legs slightly apart, bladder bulging like a basketball. It was clear she was going out of her mind with desperation! She was trying to do some breathing exercises to stay calm, but they weren’t working. Her need was too great, and it was beginning to overwhelm her immense abilities of control that she’d built up throughout her entire life. She fought against that, not wanting to admit defeat, but then I went in for the kill. I hugged her tight, crushing her bladder against my abs, and that did it! “Ooooh!” my mom moaned as the extra pressure finally became too much for even her prodigiously strong sphincter to hold back. She tried to fight it, clinging to me, muscles tensed, drenched in sweat, shaking desperately, crying in agony, but finally her cramped, swollen, desperate bladder won out. With a final cry, my mom pushed me away, ran to the toilet, and let out a five minute gusher! As soon as her powerful stream hit the bowl, she was moaning in ecstasy. After she was finished, she came back and ate breakfast with us. I’ll never forget that pee for as long as I live. My mom truly has an iron bladder! But I found out what it takes to break it! |
This was partially a request by Roodypoo and partially done on my own volition. Please enjoy and tell me if you love/hate it! Criticisms are welcome.
Wake Up Call
The small space had two windows, each covered by some blinds and then by a layer of thin, dark cotton, most likely cut from a sheet. From the tears and exposed ends poured in fragments of golden light which penetrated the dull grayness of the room. The surrounding objects – books, clothing, papers – were scattered about in a disjointed and chaotic way. All foods and drinks had been carefully removed from the room, as to avoid attracting bugs, but the room was still an undeniable mess.
Samantha’s eyes crept open, the lively green of her pupils contrasting sharply with the dull air of the room. Her body felt utterly relaxed underneath her black comforter and new, silk sheets. The only exception was a recognizable tightness in her lower tummy, an acute sting which called for release. In her new-morning daze, she didn’t quite process the intensity of the urge and continued to lay in ignorant pleasure. It wasn’t until she felt a tickle start at her groin and reverberate up her entire body, going from a light sensation, to a goose bump, and finally to a realization of horror, that she knew that the sensation needed immediate attention. A single drop of urine had slipped out of her, partially dampening the flesh-toned panties which had once guarded her privates from prying eyes, but now guarded her sheets from running water.
She immediately clenched her sphincter, feeling her groin tighten while another two minuscule drops of urine slipped their way out. She grabbed at herself, her fingers pushing into her womanly appendage, blocked only by the blankets and the thin, bikini-style panties. The “acute sting” had become a cry of desperation, threatening to burst out onto her bed sheets any second.
“Oh crap…” She groaned to herself, as she shifted around uncomfortably.
She momentarily stopped grabbing herself and threw the blankets out of her way. Once her body was free, she immediately went back to plugging the spout that threatened emit a waterfall. Her hand remained crudely crammed in her in between her legs as she slowly rose to her feet, not wanting to make any sudden movements in the danger that she could agitate her bladder and spring another, possibly more substantial, leak.
She had on a soft, blue shirt, made of form-fitting nylon that hugged every corner of her small, perky breasts. Her nipples and bellybutton were plainly visible through the shirt, but it was nothing her family hadn’t seen her in. She had often walked around the house in panties as well; the only issue was her earlier bout of leaks. A quick look at her bed proved she hadn’t gone very much, but the result of spreading her legs and bending over to check in her current state would be a mess. It was a quick trip to the bathroom and it was possible that the moisture wasn’t even visible, but the last thing she needed was for someone to catch her on the way in or out of the bathroom with wet panties.
She scoured the floor, sifting through mounds of clothing. She threw socks, shirts, and even underwear to the side until she finally nabbed a pair of green, cotton shorts. She removed her hand from her groin and worked at putting on the shorts. Multiple times in the ordeal she almost lost control, but using speed, she managed to get the shorts on and start heading for her bedroom door before her bladder could release.
Right outside of her door was a hallway which connected all the bedrooms in the house. On the opposite wall of the bedrooms, smack dab in the middle of the wall, was the bathroom. She headed toward it, but she saw the light flick on, and in a moment of horror, the door closed with a glimpse of her sister’s identical, black hair.
Samantha rushed to the door, praying for her sister to finish in time. One hand had returned to her groin, her fingers pressing through the cotton shorts and panties, preventing the urine from escaping. The other hand had stacked on top of it, helping add pressure. She went up and down, left and right, repeating the process of subtle movements for several seconds, doing anything to relieve the massive urge to release. She could feel the urine ready to burst out at the slightest provocation. She felt as if someone were to say one word to her, it would incite a leak, which would in turn lead to a complete lack of control.
“Oh my God…” She moaned to herself. “Fucking hurry…!”
Her leg seemed to elevate itself in the air, and her foot shook wildly. Her muscles were getting weaker. She could already tell that it was going to be a photo finish – if she made it!
Suddenly, from inside the bathroom, there was a loud splashing noise of water hitting water. Her sister was powerfully urinating into the toilet, audible to anyone within 5 miles. Even the hissing of her evident relief could be heard. Samantha’s foot was once against mounted on the ground, her hands pressed even harder into her womanhood, but it was no use. The sound was overwhelming. She could picture herself in there, peeing. She could feel the incomprehensible relief. Her muscles took on a mind of their own.
“No, no, no, no, no, no….” She groaned to herself.
As her sister’s stream came to a stuttering end, Samantha felt a large spurt of urine quickly shoot out, an audible hiss hitting her ears. It soaked the panties, dampened the running shorts, and even sent a droplet running down her leg. She wanted to keep holding it, but the pain and difficulty was too much. Her muscles were weak and had stopped obeying her waning determination, and soon another wave of pee forced its way out. This time, the shorts were completely soaked and there was enough urine to make it to the floor.
It was over. The final leak did not stop, and a stream, shooting into her clothing at full force exited her body. The hissing was loud, and she hoped no one else could hear it. The warmth started at her crotch, but urine was flowing so quickly it managed to propel itself forward and backward, saturating just a little bit more of the ruined shorts and underwear.
Her legs slightly spread as the accident went on, and she watched in embarrassment – but also orgasmic relief – as tiny rivers ran down her milky-white legs and made a puddle on the dark, wooden panels of the floor. The incident didn’t last long, as she was peeing so hard and fast that her bladder emptied almost as fast as her sister’s had. By the end of it, she was standing in a large – and still growing puddle – of urine, her socks drenched and still absorbing the warm liquid. |
Chapter 2 of my little fanfiction, let me know what you guys think, or if you have ideas for another story, enjoy!
Ginny Gets Splinched “Would you like anything to drink Hermione” Ginny Weasley said to her best friend. It was mid-summer at The Burrow, and Hermione Granger had only recently arrived at the Weasleys’ home to stay for several days. Harry and Ron were upstairs, which was nice because Ginny was eager to see her friend again. “Oh I’m fine for now really” she said with a smile “How have you been”. “I’m great, it’s just been really hot lately” Ginny responded fanning her freckled face with her hand and wiping the sweat from her brow. Ginny was dressed in a light blue tank top that showed the outline of her deep blue bra that supported her slightly small breasts, and tight denim shorts that showed off her very shapely legs, and white sneakers. Hermione had arrived wearing a white T-shirt and a denim mini-skirt and carried two bags with her. “Come on in we have so much to catch up on” Ginny said excitedly and showed Hermione where she would be staying. After settling in Hermione and Ginny sat down outside the house in the garden with a pitcher of lemonade and some glasses and started to chat. They talked about how their vacation had been going, the antics of the boys, and the coming school year.
“So you’ll be able to take the apparition examination next year right” Ginny asked and took a long swig of lemonade. “Well, yes actually I should be” Hermione said and she went slightly pink in the face. “I bet you’ve got a ton of books on apparating and all that right” Ginny said laughing, knowing just how much of a bookworm Hermione was. “Have you tried to practice at all, like in secret” she said jokingly, but she paused when Hermione went very red. “Umm….well, yes I did actually” Hermione said slowly “But it was a bit of a bad idea, I actually went and splinched myself”. Ginny looked horrified “Were you alright, did it hurt, what happened, please tell me” She said very quickly, she had been obsessed with the idea of apparating ever since her father let her apparate with him once to work, but no one she knew had ever splinched themselves. “Well, I’m alright now” Hermione said with a slight chuckle, she lightened up a little bit, this was her friend after all, she could tell Ginny what happened “I was practicing in my backyard at the start of the summer holiday, and I was getting it, but then I splinched myself in half right at my waist” she continued making a slicing motion across her waist with her hand. “It didn’t hurt but I couldn’t move from either end, I laid there for what felt like hours”. Ginny looked both excited and concerned, “Well did someone come and help you” She asked, thinking that the ministry usually takes care of issues like that. “Well yes, the ministry arrived after a while and un-did the mess, they were going to bring me up on misuse charges but...they felt bad and left me with a warning only” Hermione said with another blush. “Felt bad why?” Ginny asked, “Well…” Hermione began but she cut herself off, this was so embarrassing, how could she tell Ginny. “Well…since I was stuck, and it was a hot day and I was drinking a lot….I…had an….accident” she said going very red. “You peed yourself” Ginny said and almost laughed, it was so unlike Hermione to ever be caught in a situation where she needed to pee and couldn’t, let alone having an accident because she couldn’t get to a bathroom.
“Well that’s not too terrible, at least you weren’t hurt” Ginny said with a smile. Hermione quickly tried to change the subject away from her accident “But yeah so the ministry fixed me and now here I am, how about you have you thought about reading up on apparating yet” She said. “Well, I’ve thought about it, I saw a nice book on it when I went to get my schoolbooks but I couldn’t afford it” She said brushing her hair out of her face. “Well would you want to borrow the book I was using? It’s a good read but I don’t think I want to look through it anymore, too much of a reminder” Hermione said and she pulled the book out of her bag, which was bewitched to be extremely spacious so she carried most of her books in there. Ginny looked through the pages and read over the basics while she sipped at another glass of lemonade. “This is amazing Hermione, it makes apparition seem so simple” Ginny said. “Yes but believe me, one wrong move and your splinched” Hermione said seriously, but Ginny shook her head “Well, I think since you were by yourself being splinched was bad, but if you were where people could help you, it wouldn’t be so bad” Ginny said and she looked towards the house, there seemed to be a small commotion coming from inside, several bangs and calling voices. “What are they doing” Hermione said as she re-filled her glass. Almost on cue, Harry, Ron, Fred and George all burst out the door carrying several brooms and a large case that was rattling, “We’re going to play some quidditch in the field do either of you want to join” Ron asked. “Umm, no we’ll be alright, you guys go on ahead” Ginny said knowing Hermione was never much of a quidditch player even for a fun game, plus Ginny had another idea. “Alright we’ll see you both later then” Ron said and he ran to catch up with the rest. “Hey Hermione, since they’re gone, and my mum and dad are out as well…” Ginny began hesitantly, she wasn’t sure if she could convince Hermione but she was desperate to try. “What” Hermione said raising an eyebrow at Ginny, “Could you teach me to apparate” Ginny said clapping her hands together, “Absolutely not” Hermione said “I just told you I got splinched, what if you got splinched too?”, “Well, you’d be here to get help, either from the boys or my mum and dad when they got home, please Hermione I’ve always wanted to learn how to apparate” Ginny said begging with her hands together. Hermione took the opportunity to sip her lemonade while she thought about this, Ginny really seemed eager to learn, just as she was before, but she wasn’t sure what help anyone but the Ministry could provide if Ginny got splinched. “Can your dad really help you if you get splinched” Hermione asked slowly. “Of course, he does work for the ministry after all, he probably knows the people who helped you” Ginny said happily. “Alright fine, we can practice here” Hermione said, and she opened the book, “But only so you get the basic idea, no crazy stuff”. Ginny got up drained the remainder of her glass and picked up her wand from the table “Alright so how do I do this”. Hermione sighed and explained how she had apparated, and also how to focus her mind on the apparition and the bizarre feeling when you do it. “Alright, here goes” Ginny said and she readied herself. She focused her mind on apparating across the garden near Hermione and turned sharply. She felt the odd pull and squeezing sensation she felt once as a child, and she felt herself moving. In an instant she was almost nose to nose with Hermione, who yelped and fell over backward, revealing for a small instant her pink panties hiding beneath her skirt. “Oh my I’m sorry Hermione, are you alright” Ginny said and she reached out her hand to help Hermione up. As Hermione got up and dusted herself off Ginny felt a little twinge in her bladder, the lemonade was working its way to her bladder very quickly, she decided she would take a break soon. “Alright one more time” Ginny said and she readied herself again. She turned sharply and effortlessly apparated to the other side of the garden. She smiled at Hermione “Maybe I have a knack for this”, and she readied herself for another go. “Don’t push yourself, Ginny, it’s good to take a break every so often” Hermione warned. “Fine a few more times and I’ll take a break” Ginny said and she apparated again, perfectly placing herself behind Hermione where she had aimed, much to Hermione’s shock.
For the next fifteen minutes Ginny apparated all across the garden, occasionally spooking Hermione by popping up right in front of her, and all the while Ginny felt her bladder filling, the tight denim of her shorts pressed against her petite womanhood and she knew she had to take a break soon or she’d be in trouble. “Alright Ginny enough, take a break, or at least give me a break” Hermione said, having just fallen over again because Ginny apparated above her and pulled at her hair from a nearby tree. “Alright, alright, I need the loo anyway” Ginny said and she looked up to the floor where the bathroom was, which gave her an idea. “Oh maybe I can apparate into the bathroom and back out after I pee” Ginny said and without a moment to rest she readied herself once more, trying to focus on what her bathroom looked like. “Ginny it’s more difficult to apparate to a place you can’t see, this isn’t a good idea” Hermione began but Ginny was already turning. A small pop and a second later Ginny was in her bathroom, although she ended up in the bathtub by mistake. “Oh woops, that was close” Ginny said and she tried to get out of the bathtub. The only problem was her feet seemed to be rooted in place; she could barely bend her knees. She looked down and yelped in surprise; her feet up to her mid-calf were missing. “Oh please tell me I didn’t just do that” Ginny said and she stretched herself to look out the window. She looked down and saw Hermione rushing inside and saw her white sneakers standing in place in the garden. “Oh no, this is not good, oh no, dad won’t be home anytime soon” She muttered to herself, but she felt a twinge of her bladder again and she put one hand in her crotch, pushing the material deeper into her womanhood. Hermione burst into the bathroom and ran over to her, “What did I tell you Ginny, look what you’ve done to yourself” She yelled, “Why didn’t you listen to me, if you can’t see your destination you lose focus, only advanced apparators can do that”. Ginny sighed, “I know, I’m sorry Hermione” she said, “To make matters worse I’ve really got to pee” Ginny said and she held her crotch with one hand again. “Well let’s hope you don’t end up doing what I did” Hermione said in an almost mocking voice. Ginny blushed a bit, the pressure of her rapidly filling bladder was making Ginny wonder if she would end up like Hermione. “When will your dad be back” Hermione asked looking at her watch, “Not for at least an hour, and I don’t know if I can make it that long, I’m really getting desperate here” Ginny replied as she bent her knees slightly and leaned over. “Should I go and get your brothers” Hermione asked and she looked out the window. Ginny blushed again, something told her she would rather be stuck here forever than for her brothers to find out she splinched herself and was about to wet herself, “Umm, no don’t do that, they’d never let me live it down”. She put both hands into her crotch and bounced up and down. “Do you think we should call the Ministry” Hermione said, she almost knew the answer at this point. “That’s a last resort, I’d rather my dad fixed me” Ginny said shaking her head. She tried to move her feet, trying to reach the toilet, but the most she could do was stick her butt just past the tub, and the toilet was at least another foot away, unfortunately that extra stretching caused the waistband of her shorts to press into her swollen bladder and she whimpered as she jammed both hands into her crotch as she felt a wave of pressure again. She felt a little urine escape into her blue panties, making her gasp. “Ahh, I think I just lost a little bit” Ginny said to Hermione, who frantically looked around for something she could do to help. Ginny danced around, pressing her thighs together in an effort to fight off what she was beginning to realize was the inevitable. “This is horrible, I can’t remember the last time I was this desperate to pee” Ginny exclaimed, bending over as she felt another huge wave arrive. Again a little pee pushed itself out, followed by a small trickle that had wet her panties and threatened to leave a mark on her denim shorts if she didn’t push it back. After tightening all her muscles she managed to force back the flow, but the warm urine had soaked most of the crotch of her panties and was making her small red pubic hairs press against her labia. She felt a bit of a tingle unrelated to her bladder problem, and she went slightly red when she realized this warm, wet feeling was doing it. “How long can you hold it, I’m sending an owl to your parents” Hermione said and she conjured up a small envelope and began to write. “Not much longer, I don’t think I’ll be able to make it Hermione” She said, but then she realized something, she was standing in her bathtub; she could just remove her shorts and pee there. She paused only to try to hold back another trickle of pee that forced its way out and left a small patch on the crotch of her shorts, and she reached for her belt. She quickly undid it and threw it to the floor, which caught Hermione’s attention, “Ginny what are you doing” She said watching her friend prepare to expose herself. “I’m desperate it’s either going to be I pee in the drain, or soak my shorts” Ginny said as she fumbled with the button. The shorts were tight, and when she pulled on the button to try to undo it, she felt a sharp pain in her bladder and a little bit of pee would leak out. “Damnit, it’s so tight” she said, but she finally pulled and managed to get the button open and stem the flow a little bit, although the crotch of her shorts now were wet and a little drip was running down her bare leg, which made the need much worse. She then went for the zipper, which also gave her resistance; it was directly on top of her bladder and was tight enough that it wouldn’t budge. She pulled, and immediately stopped as her urethra began to fail, she could no longer stop the small trickle leaking into her shorts. “Come on Ginny, you can do it” Hermione said trying to encourage her in any way she could, but it wasn’t going to work. Ginny moaned and then began to whimper as her floodgates broke, and all her pent-up urine, all those glasses of lemonade she had sucked down burst forth into her tight shorts. Hermione could only watch in horror as her friend soaked her shorts completely. The pee spread across her crotch and soaked her front before spreading across her ass, flowing down her legs and dripping into the bathtub. “Oh my god, I couldn’t hold it” Ginny said in disbelief, she felt so relieved but she felt mortified, she had wet herself just like she used to when she was younger, and her brothers never let her forget that. She peed for about thirty seconds, but to Ginny it seemed like forever. “Umm…it happens to everyone Ginny, hey it happened to me right” Hermione said trying to comfort her. Ginny nodded as she finished peeing, and looked at the damage; her denim shorts were completely soaked front to back and her legs were dripping with warm pee, she pressed her crotch slightly and felt her panties were also completely soaked. She pressed a little harder and felt the tingle from before, the warm feeling wrapped around her womanhood and her ass, and she even forced a little more pee into the resistant fabric and felt the tingle grow. “Come on let’s try to clean you up before your parents get back” Hermione said reaching for some toilet paper and bringing it over to her. Hopefully her parents would be home soon, Ginny thought, so they can fix this mess, but until then she would enjoy it as much as she could. |
Hi everyone. This is a story I wrote a while ago. It is the first of a series of stories following two characters called Helen and Andy, who have proved to be very popular with wetting fans. So popular, in fact, that a number of my Helen & Andy stories have been plagiarised on a number of sites ... so you may feel that you have encountered this pair somewhere before. If so ... well, I am the REAL author of these stories ... and this is the first in the series. Enjoy!
The Water Babe
"Punting on the Cam is jolly fun they say," said Helen, taking the last slice of pizza from the box.
"Jolly fun," mimicked Andy. "When did you start talking like that?"
"I didn't," said Helen. "I was quoting a song. Don't you know it?"
"No," said Andy, popping the cork on the bottle of cheap sparkling white wine.
"Garden Party. Marillion," she prompted.
"Never heard of it, or them. And anyway, we're not going punting on the Cam. We're going punting on the Granta."
"I thought there was only one river in Cambridge," mumbled Helen through a mouthful of dough, tomato, cheese, pepperoni, mushrooms, and peppers.
"There is," said Andy, taking a swig of wine and passing the bottle to Helen. "And it changes name at that weir over there. Below the weir is the Cam. Above it is the Granta or Rhee."
Helen swallowed the last of the pizza and took a mouthful of wine.
"So why aren't we going on the Cam?"
"Because I want to show you Byron's Pool," said Andy. "Still in the lonely midnight waters cool / His ghostly lordship swims the pool / and tries the strokes, essays the tricks / Long learned on Hellespont, or Styx."
"You what?" said Helen.
"I was quoting a poem," said Andy. "Don't you know it?"
"No." Helen shook her head and took another swig of wine.
"Rupert Brooke," said Andy.
"Never heard of him."
"The Old Vicarage, Grantchester."
"Never heard of it."
"It's where Jeffrey Archer lives when he's not in prison," said Andy, despairingly.
"Oh, I've heard of him."
"You really are a Philistine, aren't you?" teased Andy.
"You're the one who thinks showing a girl a good time means sharing a takeaway pizza and a bottle of cheap wine," retorted Helen.
"Yeah well," said Andy, "punt hire ain't exactly cheap, you know."
"Yeah well," mimicked Helen.
Knowing Andy and Helen, this scintillating intellectual discussion could have carried on all afternoon if other events hadn't intervened. But other events did intervene. They had now arrived at the head of the queue; so Andy paid his deposit and took the ticket round to the landing stage where the boatman offered him a heavy, 16-foot wooden punt pole.
Andy shook his head. "That one's too furry. Haven't you got one in better condition?"
The boatman offered a second pole, and again Andy shook his head. Then he cast his eye over the stack of waiting poles and pointed to another.
"I'll take that one." The boatman passed Andy the pole he had indicated and Andy walked deftly out along a waiting punt to the platform at the far end of the vessel, where he stood and waited for Helen. The punt rocked gently from side to side as he walked along it.
"It looks a little unstable," said Helen.
"It's fine," said Andy. "Just step onto the platform, walk along the centre line, and plonk yourself down on one of the cushions facing me."
"You have such a way with words," said Helen. "Plonk myself down indeed!"
The boatman took Helen's elbow and steadied her as she stepped hesitantly out onto the platform. The punt rocked alarmingly, and she jumped forward and fell into a tumbled heap on the plastic-covered cushions in the middle of the vessel, narrowly avoiding spilling the wine as she did so. She had just started to sort herself out and sit herself up, when the punt gave another great lurch as the boatman pushed it off and out into the river. Then a third lurch came which toppled her into a flailing heap of arms and legs as Andy skilfully dug the pole deep into the mud at the bottom of the river and brought the motion of the vessel under control.
It was a bright sunny day in mid July, and Helen was wearing one of her short summer dresses. She liked teasing and tantalizing the boys with these dresses, giving them the impression that if they kept watching long enough they might catch a glimpse of her knickers; but she seldom if ever allowed them such a glimpse. As she sorted herself out and sat herself back up, however, she realized that she must have shown just about everything she'd got to just about anyone who was watching, including Andy, so there was little point in playing coy and dignified now. Instead she decided to adopt Plan B: that morning she'd carefully chosen matching coral pink knickers and bra, which could easily pass as a bikini, so she casually took her dress off and lay back on the cushion.
"Lovely day," she murmured. "I think I'll soak up a bit of the sun and improve my tan."
"Be my guest," said Andy, wondering to himself whether that really was a bikini she was wearing, or whether it was just ordinary knickers and a bra.
Andy certainly knew how to punt, Helen realized as they made steady progress up the river. During the first twenty minutes or so they passed punt after punt of clueless tourists, screaming and yelling and ramming one another as they struggled to control the unfamiliar and unwieldy craft. Yet never once did they collide with any of these tourists. With a deft flick of his wrists, Andy steered his own punt away from them and around them. She also noticed that the inexperienced punters seemed to shower their passengers with river water every time they lifted the pole; yet in twenty minutes she had not suffered so much as a splash.
"You're good at this," she said appreciatively, as she drained the last of the wine.
"I've told you," Andy replied, "I had a misspent youth."
"Will you teach me?"
"If you like," he answered. "Come up onto the till and stand in front of me."
Helen wrinkled her nose. “The till? What’s that?”
“The deck,” said Andy, pointing to a spot just in front of his feet. “Here.”
Helen stood up, and the punt immediately lurched over to one side. Andy easily absorbed the rolling motion by flexing his knees, but in her slightly drunken state Helen nearly toppled over the side of the punt.
"Oops," she said, sitting heavily back down again. "Maybe not now. Tell you what - I'll try again a bit later, when there are fewer people looking."
And so they continued up the river for another half an hour or so. Gradually the number of other vessels they encountered dwindled until it seemed theirs was the only punt on the river, and as they left Cambridge behind them the crowds of people on the riverbanks steadily thinned out too.
When they had been on the river for perhaps an hour, Helen began to be aware that the wine she had been drinking was rapidly making its way into her bladder. And once she'd noticed it, she also began to realize that it was building up there at an alarming rate. She was also feeling somewhat tipsy, having consumed - as she now realised - by far the greater part of the bottle of wine. Perhaps because of this she wasn't all that concerned about the signals she was receiving from her bladder. After all, she reasoned, Andy must have realised that she'd need to go to the loo at some point, and doubtless he had it all under control.
So she settled back into the cushions and grinned up at Andy. She watched the steady, rhythmic sway of his body as he lifted the pole to its full height, threw it down into the murky waters and shoved against the riverbed to give them forward momentum. She listened to the steady watery slap - slap - slap under the bows of the punt as it fought its way up against the current and the gentle gurgling hiss of the current as it flowed down past the sides of the punt. As she did so she became uncomfortably aware of the building pressure in her bladder again; and no matter how hard she tried to concentrate on other things instead, the sounds of the river kept bringing it back into the forefront of her mind.
She really did need to go to the toilet, she realized, subconsciously crossing her legs.
"Andy," she said. "How much further is it now?"
"We're a little over half way there, I reckon."
"Oh," she said, a little over half way there? As in, still about an hour of hissing, gurgling, slapping watery noises to make her bladder uncomfortable? She'd never make it. She was going to have to find a toilet first. She hated to admit her weakness to Andy; but the choices seemed to be either asking him to find her a toilet or wet herself. And however unthinkable the first one seemed, the second was even more so.
And yet... and yet...
She REALLY didn't want to ask him. It wasn't a subject she felt comfortable discussing with him. They'd been going out for about three months now. They'd kissed, they'd indulged in a certain amount of sexual foreplay, but so far as she was aware they were both still virgins (well, she certainly was) and they'd never seen each other naked. She'd teased him by giving him tantalizing glimpses of her knickers or her breasts from time to time; but this was the first time she'd stripped to her underwear for him (and as far as he was aware it was in any event a bikini, which was altogether different). They'd never really discussed going to the toilet and bodily functions; and several times she'd come back from a date absolutely bursting for a wee because she didn't want to tell him that she needed a toilet during the date.
Another fifteen minutes or so couldn't hurt, could it? Perhaps the urgency would ease a bit, and she would find that she really could hold on. Perhaps.
She crossed her legs the other way. Then back the first way. Then she turned over to lie on her stomach, alternately bending and straightening her knees. This was a good position in some respects, because she could slip a hand underneath herself and hold her crotch without being noticed; but it was a bad position in other respects because she was lying on her bladder, which was increasing her discomfort. In the end she decided she was better off on her back and turned over again. But she couldn't get comfortable, and whichever way she crossed her legs she couldn't ease the pressure in her bladder the way she had before she turned onto her stomach. Indeed, the fact was that she was really bursting. She was going to have to wee soon, whether she wanted to or not. She was not going to be able to hold on until Byron's Pool. So perhaps she should say something to Andy.
Or perhaps not. Perhaps she could still hold on. Perhaps the sweat that was beading on her brow was there because it was a hot, sunny day and she was ever so slightly tipsy. Perhaps it had nothing to do with the fact that she needed to pee. Soon. VERY soon.
"You ain't half jiffling," said Andy. "Anybody would think you were trying to upset the punt and tip me into the river."
"I'm sorry," she said.
"Is everything alright, Helen?" he asked.
Now was the time to tell him. Now was the time to confess that she was fidgeting like a nine year old that was about to wet her knickers because she was ... well ... a nineteen year old that was about to wet her knickers. Only she felt too shy to say it. And whereas a nine year old who was this desperate probably would wet her knickers if she didn't get to a toilet soon, she felt sure that if she tried she really COULD hold on. She just had to try.
"I'm fine," she mumbled, and crossed her legs the other way, and tried to sit still for Andy.
And sitting still made it worse. The pressure in her bladder was all she could think about. And the hiss and gurgle of the current and the slap - slap - slap of the bows kept making her think of going to the toilet, and what a blessed relief it would be if she could.
But she couldn't.
Not here.
And she couldn't say anything to Andy. Could she?
Well, perhaps she could. Perhaps she should. Perhaps ...
WAAAK WAAAK WAAAK WAAAK WAAAK WAAAK!
With a clattering splash of wings on water, a startled duck fled from under the bows of the punt. It startled Helen, too. So much so that she very nearly lost control of herself. She so very nearly started to pee there and then. She just managed to keep in control, but it was a close run thing. And it made up her mind for her, because another surprise like that and she was sure she would be in trouble.
"Andy," she said falteringly.
"Yes?" he said.
But her nerve deserted her, just as a sudden spasm ripped through her bladder forcing a short jet of warm pee out into her knickers. Her face burned as it turned crimson with embarrassment, and she sat rigid while she fought to control her tortured bladder. She managed to hold it at that, and prayed that Andy hadn't seen anything. But she couldn't mention her need to go to the toilet. She really couldn't. And she certainly couldn't tell him that she had already started to wet herself. What would he think?
And then inspiration struck.
"Andy," she said. "Do you think I could have another go at punting now?"
Andy smiled.
"Of course you can," he said. "Now, stand up very carefully, and don't try moving until you have found your balance."
Helen stood up, very VERY carefully. She was being so very careful because she still needed to hold back her pee for a few moments longer, but even standing up might be more than her tortured bladder could take. Andy, of course, thought that she was just being very careful to keep her balance.
She made it upright with no more leaks.
"Good," said Andy. "Now walk back here to me, carefully, one step at a time."
Helen took a faltering step. As she did so, another short jet of pee escaped into her damp knickers. Still Andy would be unable to see this, as he was standing somewhat higher than her up on the deck. But Helen felt sure that any more leaks would send a trickle of pee running down her legs, and Andy would surely see that. So now was the time to put her desperate plan into action.
"Oh Andy!" she yelped, and leaned abruptly over to one side. The punt rocked with her, and she let its motion carry her with it and topple her over the vessel's low side and into the river with a mighty splash.
The river water was cold. Far colder than she had imagined, and as it closed around her she lost all semblance of bladder control. The warm pee flowed out into her knickers, warming her crotch and her thighs. But she was safe. Nobody could see it. Nobody else need ever know about her accident. It would be her secret. Blessed relief!
She surfaced and looked about her, treading water, still peeing. There was the punt. There was Andy, looking worriedly in her direction. She raised an arm and waved to him.
"Oops!" she said. "I just don't seem to have the balance for this punting lark, do I?"
As soon as she had finished peeing, she struck out for the punt. She was a strong swimmer, and in no time Andy's well-muscled arms were helping her back aboard the punt.
Andy decided to turn back and show her Byron's Pool another day. And it was just as well he did, because by the time they got back to the punt station and the public toilets next to it, the sun had dried Helen's clothes out and she was getting pretty close to wetting herself for a second time. She didn't, however, and Andy never discovered that his girlfriend had wet her knickers before his very eyes without his even noticing. |
After reading so many good stories on this site, I decided to give it a try myself. It’s my first omo fic and I’m afraid it might be a bit too long, but here it is:
Eileen hurried out of the station in the direction of the mall. Although she had left her house precipitately, she had still missed her train and had to wait for twenty minutes before the next one came, which was more than enough to be late for her appointment at the hairdresser's. The high-heels she was wearing didn't exactly help her running on the pavement but Eileen liked to look smart on any occasion, and today was no exception. She looked stunning in her white trousers, dark blue blouse and pale jacket that shaped her thin yet curvy frame.
She was panting when she finally reached the salon's door and she had to stop for a minute to catch her breath, not wanting to look disheveled when she came in. Regaining her composure, she entered the salon and was immediately greeted by the receptionist, a blond-haired woman who had been working here for as long as Eileen knew.
“Ah, good afternoon Miss Jenkins. Do come in, we were expecting you” she said with a friendly smile. “I'll take your coat. Actually, you can already go sit for a shampoo” she added.
Eileen groaned inwardly. She had been meaning to use their bathroom at her arrival since she had gone without taking the time to do so at home, but seeing as she was now late, she felt that asking would be slightly rude. Besides, she hated the idea of people knowing that she needed to pee. So in spite of her quite full bladder, she shrugged it off. She could, after all, bear a slight discomfort during her appointment. It was not as if she would have trouble holding it. She was an adult, wasn’t she?
Following the receptionist to the chairs, she took place on one of them and started to wait for the hairdresser. The salon was, however, quite busy and after five minutes of watching people come and go with scissors, brushes and hair-dryers, she started to wonder if she hadn’t been forgotten. Five minutes turned into fifteen and her long dark hair had yet to be washed. In the meantime though, Eileen's bladder had proved much more productive, filling up all the quicker because she didn’t have anything else to think about. Actually, now that her attention was no longer focused on trying to be on time for her appointment, she realized that she might have underestimated the urgency of her need. Glancing hesitantly to the bathroom door, she decided that if no one came for her in the next minute or so, she would go anyway.
As if on cue, a smooth, feminine voice took her out of her musing.
“Miss Jenkins, how nice to see you! Sorry for the wait, we’ve been a bit busy today. Please lay back your head so I can start washing your hair.”
Eileen couldn’t decide whether she was glad to be finally taken care of or disappointed not to be able to go relieve herself. Nonetheless, she did as she was asked, shivering as her neck came into contact with the cold surface of the shampoo basin. She shifted around, trying to find a comfortable position for her slightly painful abdomen. “I’ll be fine” she thought to herself, “it can’t be that long anyway”.
She felt much less confident when she heard the familiar sound of the water jet being turned on, and even less when said jet was directed to her head. The feel of cold liquid immediately sent a jolt to her bladder, causing Eileen to tense her thighs in order to keep control. She tried to remain discreet though, but it was difficult as the water getting warmer teased her scalp, making her need increase at a speed she wouldn’t have thought possible.
“Does the temperature suit you?” the young hairdresser asked, finishing to adjust it.
“Perfectly” she answered politely.
She usually would have enjoyed the pleasant feel of hot water against her skin but right now, all she wanted was to get the shampoo over with. Her bladder was starting to hurt and she could feel a tingling sensation in her urethra. She wished she could hold herself but she couldn’t even begin to imagine doing it in full view. Instead she just squirmed on her chair, occasionally crossing her legs trying to look casual. The hair-wash seemed to last forever. She suddenly felt the woman’s fingers rest on her scalp before starting to massage it. It was something she had always loved as it could take away all the tension built up during the day, making her completely relax. Today was no exception, and she felt her body loosen under the touch. Including her bladder. Before she could do anything to prevent it, she felt a spurt make its way into her cotton panties, dampening them slightly. She jumped in horror, grabbing her crotch for just a second, which was thankfully enough to stop the flow threatening to come out.
“What’s the matter?” asked the hairdresser – who had fortunately not seen Eileen grab herself but had definitely felt her jump. “Is the water too hot? I didn’t burn you, did I?”
“I…I’m fine” she replied, crossing her legs tightly and resuming her position to let the young woman do her job.
The rest of the massage was torture. She never uncrossed her legs, lest she would leak again as the skilled fingers seemed to order her body to let go every few seconds. She couldn’t believe she had actually lost control, if only for a very short time. She tried to see whether it showed but she couldn’t really tell from her current position. She supposed it wasn’t much but she could definitely feel dampness against her pulsing groin. She closed her eyes, taking deep breaths in and out in an attempt to ease the urgency sent by her bladder. It was difficult however, with the unceasing sound and contact of running water. She sighed in relief when the hairdresser announced she was going to rinse her hair, but the stream growing stronger and cooler did nothing good for her predicament. Urine soon came pulsing against her urethra and each time, she had to contract her whole lower body to prevent it from coming out. Eventually though, she couldn’t stop another, stronger spurt from escaping and she leaked again.
Eileen clenched her teeth, regaining control once again, with greater difficulty this time. She was mortified and the wetness she could now clearly feel against her crotch only added to this. She was now certain there was a patch on her trousers, if only a tiny one. She was also getting quite worried as the possibility of an accident suddenly began to seem much more plausible. She immediately scolded herself for allowing such thoughts to invade her mind. There was, after all, a bathroom a few meters afar and she could always go if it became too bad. She was 26 for God’s sake! She was certainly not going to wet herself like a little girl! Still, the idea of asking for a break to relieve herself was rather unappealing. It would mean to admit that she could no longer wait, which was downright humiliating for her. Frowning, she pulled herself together and willed her body to hold on.
Thankfully, the flow finally died down as the hairdresser turned it off. She gently asked Eileen to sit straight so that she could wrap her hair in a towel. Eileen obliged, too happy to be able to move, squirming heavily in the process. She made sure to keep her legs crossed, not wanting to take any risk.
“Please follow me,” the hairdresser asked with a smile, heading for the styling chairs.
Standing up was not an easy thing. She carefully uncrossed her legs, focusing on not losing any drop. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the leather armrests and slowly got up. She glanced hesitantly at the bathroom door before shifting her gaze towards the young woman waiting for her with a hand on the back of the empty chair. “It’s okay,” she decided. “It will be over soon. I’ll just let her cut my hair, then I’ll pay quickly and I’ll use their bathroom. I can hold it.” She crossed the room to the chair, trying not to squirm too much. She resisted the urge to press her crotch and hoped no one would notice her tense gait. Reaching the black chair, she gratefully sat down and was spun around by the hairdresser so that she would face the mirror.
After she quickly showed the other woman the kind of haircut she wanted – opting for something much simpler than she had originally planned, the latter produced a plastic comb from a drawer and started untangling the thick brown hair. The first time the teeth of the comb gently scratched her sensitive scalp, her body jerked up and she felt herself squirt slightly more. She blushed and looked down, immediately spotting a small wet patch on her crotch. She silently prayed that no one would notice and managed to endure the remaining of the combing session, unable to refrain from bouncing her right knee up and down. Her bladder was now extremely painful, screaming for release and not so far from taking the initiative itself should it be ignored for too long.
Eileen was glad when the hairdresser finally put down her comb and replaced it with a pair of scissors. She almost groaned out loud, however, when she realized that the cutting sound caused by the blades just made her want to pee even more, if this was even possible. As if it weren’t enough, the severed locks kept brushing her bare cheeks and neck in their fall, tickling her mercilessly. Fifteen minutes later found her completely desperate, unconsciously chewing on her lip and rubbing her knees one against the other. As her bladder protested once more, she felt a burning, oddly pleasant shiver run down her spine and spread into her entire body. She gulped worriedly, starting to seriously question her ability to hold it. And now she could hardly ask to use the toilet in the middle of the haircut. “Come on – it’s almost over. You can do it” she encouraged herself.
Suddenly, the scissors closed right next to her ear startling her as the sound was amplified by the proximity. She gasped, feeling her control slip once more, and was powerless to stop the long spurt escaping her urethra and wetting the white fabric of her pants a bit more. Clenching her muscles, she managed to stop the flow but could now see that the urine had formed a tennis-ball-sized stain between her legs. Moreover, she was now getting paranoid, convincing herself that she could smell the pungent smell of pee. Beet red, she instinctively reached for her crotch, stopping herself at the last moment. She didn’t want to attract attention on her now visible –and possibly smelly – problem. Instead, she started discretely fanning her legs under the table.
“That’s it!” announced the hairdresser. “Now I’ll just dry your hair and we’ll be done.”
Before Eileen could open her mouth and ask to be let out of her seat for a quick moment, the other woman grabbed the hair-dryer and turned it on. The familiar swooshing sound filled her ears, coursed through her body and reached her achingly full bladder, teasing it into giving way. A soft whimper escaped her trembling lips as she once more managed to delay the inevitable flow. She gripped the fabric of her trousers around her groin and pulled at it in an attempt to press the crotch area against her pulsing urethra. It had little effect, especially since the fabric was soaked, but it still helped her holding on until her hair was dry and the device was turned off. At that point, she thought she was going to faint. She was in agony, wanting nothing but to relieve herself. “That’s it! Pride be damned, I’m going to the bathroom right now!”
“Do you like it?” the hairdresser asked.
“Uh?” she uttered unintelligently, before realizing the other was asking about her haircut. “Oh yeah, it’s really nice! Thanks a lot!”
It was true, her hair looked stunning. Right now, however, looking great was the last thing on her mind. She started standing up, which proved even more difficult than before. She thought she was going to lose it any second now. She danced slightly in place to remain in control, blushing heavily as she did so. Seeing the young woman gesturing her to follow her to the reception desk, she knew that she had to stop her.
“Wait! Hum…Could I please quickly use your bathroom before paying?” she asked, trying to but failing at masking the desperation in her voice.
The woman’s eyes widened as she took in her tense stance. “Oh my! Of course! You should have asked me earlier!”
The words were meant to be sympathetic, but to Eileen’s ears it only sounded embarrassing, making her feel like a little kid unable to speak up when necessary. She didn’t linger on it though, as her bladder sent her a spurting reminder of her pressing need. No longer trying to hide her desperation, she brought her hand to her crotch, grabbing herself tightly, and made a dash for the bathroom, hoping that no one would notice her wet spot. Upon reaching the door, she had to stop abruptly, bending over and clenching all her muscles in order to hold it in. But she could not prevent another spurt from getting through her already saturated panties and into her pants, adding to the wetness on it. “Please”, she begged mentally, “just a little longer. Don’t let me lose it here!”
It took all of her strength to open the door and cross the threshold, but once inside, she realized she couldn’t move without losing it right here. To make matter worse, the sight of the toilet brought a sense of relief to her body that came at a high-price.
“No….no! Not yet! Oh!” she pleaded, feeling herself lose control.
But her bladder would have none of it this time. It had given her enough signals during the past hour and it was now done being ignored. It was time for revenge. Which, in this very case, came in the form of a dish served warm and wet.
A new, stronger spurt gushed out of her crotch, running down her leg. She did all she could to put an end to it, but in spite of all her efforts, all she succeeded to do was to reduce the stream for a few seconds before it came back forcefully. As she felt the acute pain in her abdomen increase and then slowly fade away, replaced by a compound of relief and unexpected pleasure, Eileen knew she had lost the fight and simply stopped struggling. Uncrossing her shaky legs, she let the warm flow rush out of her with a hissing sound that echoed in the empty bathroom, rapidly followed by the noise of urine splattering on the tiled floor. She had lost the sense of time, sobbing without even realizing it, caught in between ecstasy and horror as her immaculate pants quickly turned dark grey.
Then it was all over, and all she could hear was the irregular sound of small drops caught in the white fabric dripping into the puddle beneath her. As she caught sight of it, however, the reality of what had just happened dawned upon her and she let out a horrified gasp. She had just wet her pants. Not even two meters away from a toilet bowl. At 26. She was utterly mortified. Never had she been so humiliated, except maybe that time when she had peed her pants in front of her whole class at the age of 7. But she had been a child back then, so it had been acceptable. It was not supposed to happen now!
She wrinkled her nose as the strong smell of urine reached her nostrils. Then, glancing at the door, she paled when it occurred to her that she had yet to exit the room, pay for her haircut and then go back to her house. There was absolutely no way to hide her accident now. The whole length of her trouser legs was thoroughly soaked and she had managed to wet the hem of her sleeves in the process. Not to mention the unmistakable smell. She sighed in defeat. After washing her hands in the sink nearby in a vain attempt to feel a bit cleaner, she took out her cell phone that was thankfully in her pocket and called a taxi. The quicker she called one, the sooner it would arrive and the shorter would be the wait outside.
She hung up and looked around for something to do – maybe a mop or come kind of cloth that she could use to clean up a bit her mess, but she found none. She realized that she was stalling, not exactly looking forward to come out for everyone to see her state. But she also knew she couldn’t stay in here forever. As if to confirm her musing, a soft knock was heard, followed by the clear voice of the hairdresser:
“Miss? Is everything all right? You’ve been in here for quite a long time now…You’re not sick, are you?”
Not feeling like verbalizing what was wrong, Eileen just opened the door, looking at her feet, blushing even more when she heard the shocked gasp of the young woman.
“I am…hum…sorry, I…I wanted to clean up but there was no…” she mumbled, still not looking at the other.
“Oh. Err…It’s all right. Don’t worry about it. We’ll take care of it. I’ll bring you your coat and then you can pay,” she answered, regaining her composure and doing a fine job at ignoring the obvious. She was definitely shocked though, and so were her colleagues, who suddenly all looked very busy. The other customers didn’t try so hard to pretend not to notice, and Eileen could clearly make out snickers and disapproving whispers. She usually complained about the ridiculously expensive price of haircuts, but as she put on her coat and went to pay for her session, she would have gladly paid twice the price if it could have made the ground swallow her up.
She sighed in relief when she finally walked out the salon door. Her coat was not long enough to hide everything, but you at least had to glance at her legs to notice anything now. Besides, the street outside the shop was virtually empty. She only hoped the taxi driver would not spot her accident. As she stood there, waiting for the car in her pants getting cold and uncomfortable, she started listing the other hair salons she knew of, for there was no way she would show her face in this one anytime soon. But as she recalled the strange, pleasant feeling that had accompanied her loss of control, she started to wonder whether there was not something to explore here. “Later,” she promised herself as she spotted the car coming her way at the angle of the street.
Well, that’s it. I hope you enjoyed it, criticism is welcome :) |
After far too long, so continues my first documented fanfic on this site. Enjoy! ^^
Chapter 1 - Helping Hand
Unova Victory Road - late morning
"I'm staying here. Emboar needs to train," Cheren grunted. A mere few feet away, his beloved starter Pokemon tore through a pile of boulders with only its fists, prompting a small colony of Durants to scatter.
"If you insist," sighed Bianca, who shared with her Dewott a feeling of disappointment. However, there was a feeling that Bianca had which Dewott did not, but it was of no concern to her at the moment. Already treading up the hill towards the exit was Hilda, who cared not whether or not Cheren remained with them. Their current task was nearing its end, and she was in a hurry to get there. Seeing how far Hilda had gotten, Bianca quickly rushed to catch up with her, giving Cheren one more quick wave goodbye.
"Why must you always be in such a rush?" she asked Hilda. There came no response from the determined trainer, which Bianca merely shrugged off as distraction. After much travel, they had finally reach a plateau on the small mountain that was Victory Road. A ways ahead of them on the gritty plane rested a Pokémon Center, which for more than one reason was a sight for sore eyes. Just past it stood the tall structure in which the mighty Elite 4 battled (and in most cases defeated) all challengers: the Pokémon League. Hilda dashed forward, leaving earshot before Bianca could even begin her request to stop at the PC.
"Ugh, any idea why she insists on jumping into action so quickly, Dewott?" she asked her faithful companion, to which it replied with just a shrug. "Me either," she added.
Looking up at the towering fortress of a building in front of her, Hilda stood with much excitement and anticipation. She had been preparing for this day for weeks, months even, and now she would finally have the chance to face the Elite 4 head on. Moments later Bianca had finally caught up to her once again, and joined in her skyward gaze. Trying hard to keep her jaw from hanging open, Bianca asked, "What do you think it's going to be like? I bet it'll be tough." At this time Hilda would have jumped at the chance to give a sarcastic reply, but her distraction had let a powerful voice from behind steal away the opportunity to speak.
"Indeed, the Elite 4 are very tough. Few challenges have conquered their might." The voice belonged to Alder, Unova's Champion. Bianca and Hilda turned to greet him with excitement, and proceeded to exchange talk of their respective journeys. They told stories of various trainers they had faced and Pokémon they had encountered, completely forgetting about the next step that lay just ahead.
"So, I suppose you girls are here to take the Pokémon League challenge," Alder asked, turning the subject back to its starting point, "I'm both glad and impressed you made it this far."
"Actually, it's just Hilda," Bianca corrected, "Dewott and I are here for moral support." Alder nodded in understanding and replied, "Well, it's nice to know you'd come all this way to support a friend. You two must be very close." The young trainers exchanged glances, both somewhat confused by Alder's comment. He ignored the gesture, however, and went on to explain, "Unfortunately, I'm sorry to say that the Pokémon League Challenge is closed until further notice." Hilda's mouth fell open with aversion, unable to find the words to express her anger and disappointment.
"Why is the League closed, Alder?" Bianca asked, "Is there something wrong?"
Alder paused for a brief moment to think, and then answered, "There's been an incident with one of the Elite 4. We're not sure why yet, but a strange psychic anomaly has formed from within her chamber, and it's far too dangerous to allow any challengers in." Hilda's next action spoke louder than any word, as she let out her Serperior who shared in her desire to help. It may have been simply a want to reach her goal quicker, but Hilda knew that she could turn down the chance. Alder and Bianca both immediately realized she was thinking and put on differing expressions: Alder's was a mixture of pride and whimsy at seeing such a compelled trainer, whereas Bianca's was a similar mixture of discomfort and worry. A feeling she had had before was now gradually returning, and it had become less than easy to ignore. She hadn't used a restroom since before Opelucid City, and her need to do so again was growing. Once again, having been stripped of her chance to request a stop at the PC, Bianca was left outside as Hilda had rushed into the Pokémon League building, ready to go.
"Come on now," Alder began, gesturing Bianca forward, "Let's go inside and see if we can lend your friend a hand." Bianca sighed and silently headed in, having a nervous trust in her ability to hold on. Hopefully this little sidetrack wouldn't take to long. Hopefully...
And voilà! Chapter 1 is finally here, and the story is officially under way. I hope you all enjoyed this installment, and be on the look out for the next in the slightly near future. Remember to leave comments and criticisms, so I can make the rest of the story as well as possible. |
This is my first furry story that hasn't been fanfiction. I hope you all enjoy it! Tell me if you love/hate it and please inform me of any mistakes.
Also, the two main characters are furry, humanoid cats. They're the shape of people, except with ears, tails, and fur.
Today it was vanilla. Sometimes she smelled like fruit or perfume. She could smell lively, melancholy, romantic… But no two consecutive days did she ever smell the same. I wondered if she knew just how much her scent impacted me. I constantly complimented her on it. Told her she smelled beautiful or soothing… Was it conscious? Did she know just how much those smells could change the oh-so important subtexts of mood? How they could manipulate the infinite subtleties of conversation?
I leaned in, gently rubbing my cheek against hers. I kissed her on the lips, just for a second, before pulling away and remaining there, next to her on a soft bed of grass and weeds. I twiddled her silken fur in my fingers as she softly scratched my upper thigh. My arm was around her; her head rested on my bicep. I could feel her warmth against my body, our furs bound together, just like us.
“… Leo?” She sighed, her child-like voice quiet and distant.
“Yeah?”
“Where did your name come from?”
“Hmm, why do you ask?”
“I dunno… I was just wondering.” She shifted uncomfortably, her fur sliding against mine. She looked away from the clouds and our eyes met.
“Uh, well… My mom gave me it. And, as you know, it’s short for Leonidas.” Her large, green eyes disappeared behind her eyes lids for the faintest of moments.
“Mmhm, and why’d she name you that?”
“She named me after a Spartan king. The same one from that movie. But I was born before it came out, obviously.”
“But why’d she do it?”
“Leonidas was apparently a very impressive man… She said she wanted me to have integrity above everything else, so she named me after someone who…. Had integrity, I guess.
“… That’s pretty cool.”
“Yeah, I kinda like my name. It’s unique…”
“Yeah.”
“And how about you? How come you got named Ally? Or rather, Alyssa?”
“Eh, my mom and dad thought it was cute.”
“How appropriate…” I brought up my free hand and gave her a quick tickle of the underarm.
“Ha, stop!” She giggled, embarrassed.
“Heh, what’s wrong? Don’t like your name?”
“… No, it’s alright.”
“What’s wrong then?”
“Hmm? Nothing’s wrong!” She snuggled in tightly and laid her head on my chest. A fresh wave of vanilla hit my nose. My arm slipped over her body, my hand resting on her tummy. I kneaded at it softly with my nails, making her twitch lightly.
“Stop…” She said suppressing a giggle.
“What’s wrong?”
“You’re tickling me again.”
“What? Nonsense! If I were tickling you I would do this!” I pulled my hand back, using my nails to gently stimulate her underarm.
“Ah! No, no!” She laughed. “Stop!”
“Heh,” I stopped ticking her, “you normally don’t care if I tickle you a little…”
“Yeah, but I’ve gotta pee.”
“Oh, really?” My attention was piqued.
“Mmhm, so don’t tickle me.”
“…Or what?”
“You don’t want to know.” She shifted positions, trying to get comfortable on the hard ground.
“Oh, I see.” We both returned to enjoying the sounds of nature.
In the resulting silence, my eyes found fascination in her coat. It was hard not to admire. So soft and smooth… and on top of that so straight and well kempt! There were varying shades of red, orange, yellow, and black that all wrapped around her in a seemingly random, asymmetrical pattern. I glanced at her tail – which was gently wagging, smacking the ground in harmonious pleasure - and impulsively, my eyes caught a glimpse at her behind, soft and plump, but still true to her petite frame.
Suddenly, she sat up.
“What’s wrong?”
She looked back at me. “Let’s walk around. My butt hurts.”
We got off the ground, wiped away any grains of dirt or blades of grass that clung to us, and started to wonder down the main path of the woods. It was a long, sandy road, worn to nothingness by past ATV’ers and cyclists. The ground was soft and shifted whenever you took a step, like walking down a deceased beach.
We meandered, trying to enjoy the natural beauty of the wilderness (we called it the wilderness, but it was really just undeveloped land). We talked, touched, flirted and joked, passing the time, bonding and growing closer. We didn’t have anywhere to go, nowhere to be, because we were already there.
“Ohh, I’ve gotta pee…” She said under her breath, looking around cautiously.
“Oh yeah, I almost forgot.” I lied.
“… I’ve never peed in the woods before.”
“Never too late to start?”
“Easy for you to say! You’re a guy!”
“You could just hold it until you get home then…”
“Yeah…” She placed her hand on her slightly protruding tummy. “I don’t know…”
“Is it bad?”
“Kinda… I just don’t know if I can make it home. I don’t want to start walking around in public and… Yeah, no.”
“Looks like you’ll have to pee out here then.”
“Yeah… I know.”
She didn’t say anything more on the matter, and instead continued to walk, leaving my mind to its own devices. I couldn’t keep the fantasies from entering my mind; I couldn’t help but watch her movements closely, looking for any sign of desperation. There was a part of me that had grown tired of the lies and idealistic hope. I wanted to come out and tell her about my fetish, but how would she react?
Ideally, she would share the fetish, but that was unlikely. It was equally unlikely she would find me disgusting… right? She wouldn’t be so rash as to judge me on something so inane? I couldn’t be sure. I could feel my heart beating at the thought. Should I tell her? Should I keep it to myself?
“Ohhhhh….” She put her legs together and bounced up and down, lightly, like a feather caught by the breeze. “It’s getting worse!” It had been almost twenty minutes since the topic was last breached.
“Sure you don’t want to try and make it home?”
“No, that isn’t even an option anymore.” A strange sensation started to build inside of me. It was a compulsion that demanded attention, yet I didn’t know how to act upon it. Looking at her soft, begging eyes, watching her smooth legs rub against each other, bending up and down at the knee, and listening to that dainty voice plead in childish urgency… It was a feeling that I wanted to feel forever, but felt considerable desire to relief immediately.
We continued walking. I was obsessing and she was delaying the inevitable. Her plump butt and perfectly proportioned hips swayed with each step. Her hand had slid downward, until finally it was pressing tightly into her female parts. Seeing her touch herself, desperately holding back a torrent… I could feel my mental arousal becoming physical, I was growing hard.
This was an issue. We weren’t wearing any clothes. Our fur was the only thing blocking our exposed bodies from the world. If I got an erection, I had no way to hide it! It was possible she just wouldn’t notice it, but how likely was that? It wasn’t something I wanted to rely on, but what choice did I have? I could excuse myself to the bathroom – which that alone would be awkward to do given her situation – and wait for the erection to subside, but there was no doubt it would come right back the second I saw her prancing around, touching herself. Unless I went off and masturbated, which was not an option, I was out of luck.
As we continued walking, I prayed she wouldn’t see it, and at the very least, wouldn’t question it, but I knew it was a pipedream. It is hard to miss a protruding appendage from a person’s body, even when you’re more focused on something else.
“… Leo?”
“Y-yeah?”
“Is there anything reason you’re… uh, hard?” Unsurprisingly, she had caught me.
“Buh, I… I don’t know?”
“So… you’re just hard for no reason, then? That’s it?”
“Uh, yeah, I guess so. I didn’t even notice.”
“You didn’t notice. Alright, that makes sense. You get an erection in the middle of the wilderness for ‘no reason’ and you don’t notice. Uh huh, that story checks out alright.”
I sighed heavily. “Yes, there is a reason for it, okay?” I snapped at her, anxious and annoyed at her interrogation.
“Well, what is it?” She looked and sounded curious, but there was also an air of sympathy to her voice. It was amazing she could be so kind; after all, she was standing there, weight compulsively shifting from foot to foot, thighs pressed together, and hands by her hips, repeatedly opening and closing, making little hands to fists, and fists to hands. Her congenial affection was all I could take. I didn’t want to keep it a secret anymore.
“Uh… It’s… kind of embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing? Maybe you forgot I’m about to explode over here! I don’t think you need to worry about being embarrassed. I doubt you can out embarrass me right now!”
“Yeah…”
“Plus, you can tell me anything… You know that. I just hope you tell it quick, because honestly, I don’t know how much longer I can wait.” She gave an awkward, but comforting laugh. If only she knew the irony in her relating to my situation via her desperation. I wondered if she had any suspicions. Had the thought I might have been attracted to her full bladder crossed her mind even once?
“Heh, well, I…” I watched her dance, those intimate eyes pacifying my stress like a baby being lulled to sleep. “I kind of… find it attractive… when you a girl needs to pee.” I felt every inch of my body tense up. It was like the split second before getting a shot. The worst moment is when the needle first breaks your skin. I waited for that familiar stinging sensation, but it never came.
“So, my… situation… is turning you on?”
“Yes…” I could feel my cheeks burning. She was the only person I had ever told about my kink.
“Oh, I guess that isn’t too bad. It’s a little weird, but it isn’t bad.” She was trying to comfort me (and possibly herself).
I swallowed hard. “Yeah, I mean, it was just kind of hard to throw it out there. I didn’t know how you would react.”
“Yeah, I see why… So, what is it you like? Is it just girls needing to pee, or…?”
“Oh, uh, pretty much. I’m not much for other stuff like… golden showers and drinking it and stuff. That is a little… hardcore for me.”
“Ew, drinking it?”
“Heh, yeah.”
“I can tell you right now I’m not drinking any urine.”
“Ha, no, of course not!”
Maybe I was crazy, but her comment fascinated me greatly. She wasn’t going to drink any urine? Of course she wasn’t! But why would she say that? Why go out of her way to specifically say that? Did it mean the other stuff wasn’t that bad? Did it mean she might actually do the other stuff? I was getting ahead of myself. She didn’t even know what “the other stuff was;” all she knew was that I loved it when a girl needed to pee, and I was getting pleasure out of her needing to pee, right at that moment. I needed to stay calm and play it cool.
“So, um, what turns you on? Like, what have I been doing that has been… so hot?”
“Well, uh, whenever you tell me how much you need to pee or you dance around or anything. It’s just… It drives me crazy, but in a good way – a really good way. It’s hard for me to describe; you just look so cute when you have to… you know, go to the bathroom.
“Oh. Yeah, I suppose I can see why that would be kinda arousing… And what about you? Do you get turned on by needing to pee?”
“Oh, well, I…” That was a question I was not prepared to answer. It caught me off guard. “… Not very much. I mean, it can… It’s hard to explain. But yeah, I guess a little. I prefer it with other people, though.”
“Uh huh…”
“Yep.”
“… Leo, all that tea from earlier is really hitting me hard and I’m kinda about to wet myself here, so I don’t know if I’m going to be able to do this any longer.”
“Oh, yeah, don’t worry about it! You can go if you want!”
“Well, uh, I was thinking since you’re into this kinda thing… if you would like to watch, maybe? I don’t know if you’re into that, but… I just figured I’d offer it…”
I could have sworn for the slightest of seconds my heart literally stopped beating. I never expected her to offer that; to let me watch her pee. I stared at her, mystified by the situation.
“I… I…”
“Quickly, please!” She said with a nervous laugh, still dancing out of desperation.
“I-I would love too!”
“Okay. I’ll just…” She looked around, making sure no one was watching from afar. “I guess I’ll go right here then.” She immediately squatted down, thighs together, voluptuous bottom now below her knees. She spread her legs, giving me a complete view in between her legs. The fur covered her womanhood, but it was still a very personal view to have.
She sat there for several seconds, nothing happening.
“Ahh, I’ve gotta pee so bad!” She said, going up and down uncomfortably, still in a squatting position.
“Then just pee.”
“I can’t! It is weird with you watching me! Just give me a minute, I honestly don’t think I’m gonna have a choice much longer, anyway.”
Seeing her there, about to urinate, I started to ponder something: maybe I could have more? It was pure greed and lust that motivated me, but she had responded mostly positive to my fetish. She had even volunteered to let me watch her urinate… That had to mean something. Maybe she was interested in it? Once again, I couldn’t sure, but she did seem interested in pleasing me, and there was a consideration that had grown on me…
“Ally, wait, don’t go yet.”
“Shit!” She closed her legs and her entire body tensed up for several seconds. “Crap, what is it? I’m seriously about to pee!”
“There is another part to my fetish… I know it isn’t a good time, but I was just wondering if you would be willing to do something…”
“Yeah, quick, quick, what is it?” She was standing again. Her teeth were clenched, her hands were buried between her legs, and she didn’t stop bouncing for a second. My eyes couldn’t help but steal a glimpse at her breasts. They weren’t huge, but they were still rather ample in size, and watching them go up and down was somewhat mesmerizing.
“I already told you I like seeing desperate girls, and, I mean, you’re doing great right now, but uh… Well, to see girls lose control is even better…”
“You want me to lose control? I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem, Leo, because the second I spread my legs I probably will.”
“Um, well, I mean like, a girl losing control on herself.” I could hear her rapidly mumbling “come on” under her breath.
“… Wait… So you want me to wet myself?”
“… Uh, pretty much.”
“Christ!” I couldn’t tell if her exclamation was from her desperation, the absurdity of my request, or both. “Um… But won’t that make my fur wet and like make me smell and stuff?” Her hands were no longer between her legs. She had resumed her old position of shifting weight, hands at her sides; except now it was with a stronger sense of urgency. Her hips swayed as her feet kneaded fervently at the soft dirt below.
“Yeah, but, I mean, we could always just take a quick dip in the lake or something… I know we don’t have a change of clothes, but drying off shouldn’t be too much of a problem. At least it would-“
I heard a loud hissing noise. At first, I was a bit startled, thinking it was an animal of some sort, but my surprise increased tenfold when I saw Ally’s expression. It was not fear of some hidden predator, but rather a look of complete amazement. Her jaw was wide open and she looked at me, those intimate eyes glaring into mine, seeking consolidation and approval.
Almost instantly, there was a glimmering light from right around her groin, where fresh urine reflected the sun. Her legs stayed mashed together, her bottom slightly protruding out from her prior desperation. She looked down and watched with me as her fur grew soaked with remarkable speed. In seconds there was a small puddle of mud beginning to form around her dusty toes. Her head steadily tilted upward as her eyes closed from the absolute pleasure.
When the puddle at her toes grew too high, she took a baby step forward, the powerful stream of pee not stopping, but rather the loud hissing disappearing for the slightest of seconds. Now, with her thighs spread only an inch apart, the hissing returned, but quieter. The urine continued to fall down like a waterfall, clinging to her legs like they were ledges.
I could see the moisture spreading further and further forward, steadily dampening more and more of her fur. She opened her eyes and looked at me; there was a single tear. However, I could tell she was not suffering. I could see by the utter complacency of her expression, by the look of overwhelming orgasm, that she was content.
The new puddle at her feet started to grow even bigger than the one before, so she stepped out of it. Except now, the stream of urine was coming to a slow stop. In the dry dirt, she squatted down and let the rest of the urine pitter and patter straight to the ground. She let out a heavy sigh, complete relief once again flooding her face.
“Oh my god…” She moaned. “That feels so much better.”
“Ally, that was… that was spectacular.”
“I’m glad you liked it, Leo…”
“… Did you lose control as I was talking?”
“Yeah, I did.” She sounded tired, as if I could blame her.
“You’re the best.” I walked over and helped her to her feet.
“I’m just glad I could make you happy, Leo.” She smiled at me, her eyes glazed over from the euphoria of the event.
I embraced her in a hug and then gave her a long kiss on the lips. I stroked her back gently as we made out. We pulled apart.
“Did you enjoy it at all?” I asked her, curious to see if just maybe she shared the fetish. She giggled.
“Maybe a little more than I should have.” |
Chapter 2:
She pulled some keys out of her backpack and unlocked the deadbolt. I watched as her fingers fiddled with the metal rings. Her hand turned and the lock clicked. We walked inside and were hit by a blast of cool air. We both sighed and went straight up stairs. It was a hot, humid day. The sky was dark, storm clouds looming in the distance. We had stayed a few minutes after school, hoping the rain would stop falling. Fortunately, it did, but it threatened to fall once more.
We dropped our stuff on her bedroom floor. I took a seat at the foot of her bed as she walked to her dresser and bended over. I couldn’t help but stare at her perfectly formed bottom; her body leisurely swaying as she sifted through the clothing. I quickly looked away when she closed the drawer and turned around to face me. I noticed some type of black cloth balled in her hands.
“I’ll be out in a second!” She smiled, her cheeks red, her voice just a little too excited. I didn’t think much of it.
When she entered her bathroom, I headed to what was informally decreed to be ‘my side’ of the bed. I climbed on top of the sky-blue comforter, an audible sigh of pleasure escaping my lips. It was not long until the bathroom door opened and she walked out.
“Leo” She sung, trying to be teasing and sexy. She stood in the door way, slightly awkward, cheeks burning, too nervous to attempt any sort of pose. But it didn’t matter, seeing her standing there, a black bra clinging wonderfully to her chest, black panties covering her most sensitive parts, a shy smile creeping up on her lips as she desperately awaited my approval; it was all that I needed.
“Wow…” I said, wide eyed and slack-jawed. “You look beautiful.”
“You really like it?”
“Of course! I can’t believe you remembered when I said I had a thing for underwear!”
“Yes… I remembered. I wasn’t really sure if it was a good idea or not. I was kinda worried you wouldn’t like it.”
“Don’t be crazy! You could come out in anything and I wouldn’t care… You’re beautiful on your own!
“Thanks…” She looked at her toes, embarrassed by all the attention.
“… Although, I won’t lie, you look amazing in that…”
“You really like it?”
“Like you wouldn’t imagine.”
She giggled and curled up next to me on the bed. I could feel the warmth of her cheeks against the tuft of fur on my chest.
“Thanks for doing this, Ally. You know you didn’t have to.”
“Mmhm, I know. I just figured you might like it… and from the looks of it, I was right.” She giggled.
We were both still virgins, caught deep in the throes of young love. We often engaged each other sensually, exploring our bodies, discovering what made the other tick; yet, there was always a powerful tension that each action exhumed, this fantastic effort that each motion of sexuality took. Even her gaze, which absorbed the sight of my exposed member, was enough to leave my cheeks burning and my heart fluttering.
“I told you I liked it…”
“Yeah, I can see that.” She giggled again.
“Can’t say I didn’t warn you…”
I rolled on top of her, our mouths pressing together, my tongue moistening her lips, probing for entry. I purposely rubbed my erection against the side of her leg, my juices dampening her fur. It was the first time I had ever done such a thing. She didn’t fight it, so I continued to do while we kissed, basking in the pleasure of her fur tickling the erogenous area. After several minutes, I collapsed next to her.
“Are you positive…” She looked at me as I spoke, both us breathing heavy with intense arousal. “… That you don’t want to go farther?”
“…I’m sorry, Leo, not yet. I promise you I’ll do it soon, I’m just… Just, not yet.”
I sighed. “You’re afraid, aren’t you?”
“Yeah… a little bit.” She snuggled into my chest. I wrapped my arm around her.
“You know I won’t hurt you, right?”
“Yes, I know, it’s just… I can’t help but be a little worried. And, what if I do bad? Or-or even worse, I get pregnant!”
“Ally, I would wear a condom; and you don’t have to worry about doing bad.” I leaned in, bringing my lips an inch from her forehead. “You could never disappoint me.” I gave her a warm kiss, lingering for several seconds.
“Leo, I know you wouldn’t do anything on purpose… but, condoms can fail. We can’t control that.”
“…I know.” I sighed again.
“… I’m sorry.” Her hand softly scratched the fur on my chest. “I know how much you want to move on. I’m sorry I’m being difficult…”
“No, no, don’t worry about it. I want it to be special for us both, okay? You can take your time. I’ll just have to be happy with kissing you until then… and there have been worse fates out there.”
Her mouth opened as if she was going to say something, but it slowly closed.
“You’re a great boyfriend, Leo. I hope you know how special you are to me… I just don’t wanna move too fast and ruin things.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I kissed her on the forehead again, giving my erection a look of longing.
We sat in silence, cuddling, listening to the rain against her window and roof. I spent a lot of the time admiring how well her plump butt poured into her snug panties, making a tempting bottom into an alluring work of art. I wanted to reach out and squeeze it, to feel the softness in my hands, but I felt like I had missed my chance. I regretted not doing it while we kissed. I turned my head and attempted to look outside, to distract myself, but I couldn’t see anything past the droplets of water and bits of condensation that obscured the relative world.
She moaned and shifted on the bed.
“This rain is making me need to go pee.”
“… Oh, really?” I could feel my erection, which stood directly in her line of vision, tighten at the information.
“Mmhm.”
“… Are you gonna go?” My eyes were drawn to her behind once again. I could see those black panties suddenly taking on a darker shade. I could see a familiar glimmer as the light reflected off fresh urine.
“No, not yet. I don’t feel like getting up.”
“… Is it bad?” I swallowed hard.
“A little. I drank a lot at lunch.”
“Oh, yeah, I guess that makes sense.”
I wondered, was she serious? Was it is as simple as she said? She didn’t want to get up? Or was she doing it deliberately? Maybe it was just her subtle way of being sexy. Possibly it was an apology for refusing sex for so long. Or was it all of the above? It didn’t matter. All I knew was that she had to relief herself; and instead of doing just that, she was laying there, head pressed into my fur.
“So, Ally…”
“Yes?”
“Have you ever done this before?”
“Hmm? What do you mean?” She flipped around, letting the side of her head once again lay on my chest. Her head no longer faced my erection, but rather faced me. Our eyes locked. She looked so innocent, those bright-green eyes glaring at me curiously. I could feel a clothed breast against my chest, the other stacked atop. The bra was cut low, and I had trouble prying my eyes away from the squishy part that it failed to cover. Like her butt, I wanted to reach out and touch it, to poke it, to see it jiggle.
“I mean, like, have you ever just sorta not went to the toilet? Held it because… I don’t know, you didn’t want to get up?” It was hard finding the words with her staring at me, examining each crude, compulsory expression that crossed my face.
“…Uh huh.” She said after a moment of thought.
“Any, uh, close-calls?” For a split second, she looked away, and my eyes quickly shot downward. The panties fit her perfectly from the front and back. They slipped between her legs, covering her private areas, tempting me, begging for me to take them off.
“Hmm, I think so. But I need a minute to think about it.”
“Oh, no, take your time!”
“… Uhhhhh, wait, I think remember one! It happened a few days.” My heart rammed into my chest as my blood heated up.
“What happened?”
“Okay, well, I was lying here, reading a book. And I was really getting into it, so I kind of held it for awhile. I just kept saying I would go ‘next chapter,’ but it was a really addicting book… Obviously, it started to get really bad after awhile and I started to squirm and stuff. I made it to the last chapter of the book and I really wanted to finish it up, since I had made it that far already. So, I kept reading, but by then I was like holding myself and stuff. I actually think I had my shirt pressed in my legs and stuff. It was really bad.
“Wait, what were you wearing?”
“Oh, sorry. I had on a long shirt that comes down to about my knees. Bright pink.”
“Wow, that actually sounds… really sexy.”
“What does?”
“You with nothing but a shirt on… I don’t know, it just sounds… really, really, cute.”
“Oh! I guess I’ll have to wear it for you one day then…. I swear. You have a clothing fetish or something.”
“…Heh, maybe a little.”
She giggled. “Sometimes I wonder how I ended up with such a kinky guy…” Ironically, she found that to be the perfect moment to lift herself to her knees and adjust her bra. I watched as her breasts jiggled, unable to escape their fabric prison; their vibrations granting me yet another one of my many perverse wishes. Before she had a chance to close her legs from the new position, I instinctively glanced between them. I admired how the panties smoothly walled off her womanhood, extending out of sight to cover her butt. They added an air of mystery and eroticism to an already intimate place.
It wasn’t long until her breasts came to a stop and her legs closed. Not at all privy to just how much I was enjoying things, she continued her story.
“Alright, so, I was lying there, trying to not like, pee everywhere. I was holding myself, squirming, moaning, all the stuff I was doing in the woods the other day, just this time I was lying down.” She was starting to blush. “And, I got to the end of the book and kinda sat there for a minute. I had sorta underestimated how bad the urge really was, so when I sat up, I literally almost wet my bed. “
At that moment, I looked in Ally’s eyes and became aware of just how difficult this was for her to recount to me. I realized just how much she liked me. I deeply appreciated how much she was willing to embarrass herself, just for my pleasure…
“I had to sit there holding myself for like ten seconds or something before I could even stand, and you know, at this point, every second counts.”
“It was that bad? Couldn’t you have just made a mad dash for the bathroom? It’s just on the other side of the room.”
“No, it was that bad. I was really worried I wasn’t going to make it that far. And when I stood up, it got really bad again. I had to stand there, completely still for another ten seconds, maybe a little longer.”
“What would have happened if you hadn’t stayed still?”
“I would have started peeing. But, uh, honestly…” She gave a nervous giggle. “I kinda thought I was about to anyway, but luckily it didn’t come out, and I managed to inch my way to the bathroom. The whole time I felt like I was going to lose control. It was like when I was about to go in the woods and you told me to stop… Like, I was seconds away.”
I swallowed hard again.
“When I got to the sink I felt it about to come out. I knew I could either run for my toilet and pee a little on my floor – and myself (she gave me a shy smile) – or I could just sit on my sink and hope for the best.”
My eyes widened. Her story had taken an interesting turn.
“So, the second I pulled my hands up, I yanked up my shirt and like, quickly positioned myself over the sink. I can’t stress how close it was. I literally lost control before I was over the sink.”
“Did you wet yourself at all?” I could barely breath my heart was beating with such force.
“Not really. I might have leaked or something walking there, but it was only like a drop... I do remember when I stood, there was a little bit of pee sitting on the edge of the sink where I had been, so that must have like slipped out before I got over the sink. I checked the fur on my butt and it was a little moist, but it wasn’t very much. I just got into the shower after that.”
“Wow… That is the hottest thing I have ever heard.”
“It is?” She giggled and gave me an incredulous expression. “Well, I’m glad some good came out of my embarrassment.”
“Oh! I’m sorry! I guess that was kind of embarrassing for you.”
“It was, but luckily no one saw it.”
“What would you have done if someone else was in your room when it happened?”
“I probably wouldn’t have gone for the sink… and between closing the door and getting to the toilet, I imagine it wouldn’t have ended well.”
“I kinda wish I could have been there…”
She giggled. “Now that would have been embarrassing!” |
Edit of Chapter 2. Not necessary to read. I simply made some changes to make it more poignant. The plot is not altered.
Also, I have another chapter!
Chapter 3:
Today she smelled like strawberries. The scent was subtle, but it was still oddly captivating. I gently squeezed her arm and she let out a soft moan. Again, she was laying there, head against my chest, staring down at my erection; which, out of exhaustion, had begun to fade. As we sat in silence, I kept myself occupied by staring down at her slender body, admiring her generous chest and voluptuous hips.
The panties were still clinging to her, showing off the shape of her bottom, making something perfect into something better. The bra still held her breasts, making them extra welcoming, and extra squishy. But most appealing of all was her constant squirming. She still needed to pee, and in the last few minutes, the urge had grown quite bad.
My imagination humored many fantasies, some involving her body, some involving her love, but many involving her bladder and its inevitable need to be voided. I didn’t know what her plan was. Did she plan to wet herself again? I hoped so, but I couldn’t be so greedy as to request it from her again. It was too soon.
However, if she were to offer… I just had to hope that was her plan. Dwelling on it could do me no good, so I struggled to purge the thoughts from my mind; yet, my efforts were futile. Even in the glow of her radiant body I obsessed over her desperation, and this lead me to a conclusion about my motivations: I had a non-sexual desire to see her urinate. There was a part of me that was, no doubt, sexually satisfied by her need, but there was also a deeply rooted psychological desire that begged for it.
“Mmm…” she squirmed again. “I gotta pee.”
“Holdin’ up alright?”
“No, I don’t know how much longer I can wait without risking an accident.”
“And I’m guessing you don’t want that?” I could already feel myself deflating.
“Not really. At least not now.”
Not now. It meant there was still a chance… later.
“So, you gonna go then?”
“I’d like to hold on more for you, but it’s really bad…” Her words breathed new life into my faded erection.
“Heh, alright, don’t want you wetting the bed.”
“Oh God, that’d be a fun conversation to have with mom…”
“Oh, yeah. That wouldn’t be awkward at all.”
She sat up, her hand immediately slipping between her legs and pressing down on the panties.
“Ugh, this is worse than I thought.” She crawled off the bed, hand not leaving her groin for an instant. “Good thing we decided to end this when we did…”
“Heh, yeah.” I could feel my heart trying to ram its way out of my chest.
“But uh, you know, I was wondering since I sorta waited this long and I don’t really want all that time to go to waste… if you know, you wanted to watch?”
“Do I… wanna watch? …Uh, yeah, that actually sounds really fantastic!”
“I mean, I can’t really wet myself this time, but you know, it’s something…”
“No, no! It’s g-great! I mean, I would love to watch…”
“I figured… I offered in the woods that one time, but, well… You already know what happened.”
“Heh, yeah, thanks again for that.”
“It’s no problem, but, uh, let’s go ahead and do this. I’m dying over here.” She squirmed a little, her soft little legs rubbing against each other, fighting off the growing urge. I sat up and placed my feet on the ground as she walked to the bathroom. I watched her butt sway as she moved -- a subtle urgency in her step and an erotic professionalism in her swing.
I was so lucky to have such a goddess in my life. Maybe it was the sexual gratification that overwhelmed me, or maybe it was her awe-inspiring generosity… Or maybe it was something else entirely. All I knew is that I wanted nothing more than to have these perverse proclivities indulged. Whether it was to see her desperate, to see her urinating, or to see her wetting… any and all seemed to stimulate my mind and body beyond healthy consideration.
“Uh, Leo, you coming?”
“Sorry, yeah!”
When I entered the bathroom I saw her standing in front of the toilet, hand still on her groin, and body facing mine. Her butt was pointed slightly backwards and her legs couldn’t seem to stay still. Seeing her squirm in that black lingerie, combined with the anticipation of what was to come; it was too much. I could feel myself growing hard; but she ignored it, too nervous and desperate to pay my rampant sex drive any thought.
“Okay, you ready?”
“Ally, I’m more than ready.”
“Okay, good, because so am I.” She paused for a moment and I walked closer to her. She placed her hands on the hem of the panties and exhaled deeply. “Well, here goes nothing. She slid them down around her thighs and sat on the toilet. She then pushed them down to her feet and spread her legs. I could see her swallow in fear; but I couldn’t say much, since I could barely hide my trembling.
We both stared between her legs, waiting in anticipation. I had always loved looking between her legs or at her chest whenever I could, even if her fur always did a much-too satisfactory job at concealing her body. The intimacy of the area, the taboo nature of the spot, it makes it erogenous and tempting; but now, with her unspoken permission to stare, with the coming explosion of sexual gratification, the spot became something almost divinely alluring.
Several seconds went by. I was about to speak up and ask her if she was okay, but before I had a chance I was cut-off by a quick “pssh.” I saw urine fall from her fur and disappear into the toilet. Before I could even grasp what had happened, I heard it again, but this time it didn’t stop. A long stream of urine had started to pour from her fur and forcefully hit the water.
The sounds were oddly compelling and varied. Sometimes it sounded like a faucet and other times like a fine spray. There was a transient hissing noise that seemed to go in and out, sometimes loud, sometimes inaudible. I couldn’t see the source of the urine, but I could see the fur growing damp, which was almost equally erotic. I wondered how girl’s faired when they didn’t have toilet paper to dry themselves, and how this affected their clothes…
The stream started to slow down. I watched it go from a waterfall, to a downpour, to a trickle. A few quick bursts shot out of her until finally even they were nothing more than occasional dribbles. She looked up at me and swallowed. There was that same face of pure self-consciousness. She was looking for acceptance… She needed validation.
“You are the most beautiful person.”
She started laughing as tears formed in her eyes.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“I-it’s nothing…” She was still laughing. “I’m just really nervous… Or, I was, at least.”
“You don’t have anything to worry about… You did great!”
“… I did?”
“Ally, I can’t even describe how amazing that was.”
She sniffed. “I’m glad. I kinda feel like an idiot for getting all teary eyed for no reason.”
“No, no, don’t worry about it! You were just nervous; it’s understandable!”
“Yeah, I guess.” She wiped her eyes. “Could you move over? You’re standing in front of the toilet paper.”
“Oh, sorry.” I moved to the side, but I did so reluctantly. There was a voice in my head that wanted more. The tension in my muscles had not faded. My desperation had not left me. There was no explosion of sexual gratification. I wanted something more tangible to cling to; I wanted something more substantial than a fleeting memory.
I had considered asking her to not wipe. I wanted her to stand up and pull up the panties, to see them get dampened; but why bother? What satisfaction would this bring me? Yet still my heart waned for it. My mind yearned. Almost every impulse in my body screamed for me to go forward and make this simple request. Denying myself the pleasure filled me with rage and it left this black void in my chest. It left this unexplainable sensation in my heart. This unquenchable thirst in my soul.
But it was too late. The thin paper grew saturated as her fur became dry. She dropped it in the toilet and pulled up the panties. She flushed and walked over to wash her hands and face. I felt the anger dissipate, and left within me was nothing but that void. It was a depressed mass of regretful nostalgia. A sudden awareness of a deceased past and a dying future. |
It was roughly a week later when I made the call. We had not spoken of anything sexual since, neither of us wanting to bore the other. After all, we were limited in the games we could play. She was not yet comfortable with sex and I didn’t want to overwhelm her with my fetish. There was only so much we could do.
“Hey, Leo!” Her voice rang over the phone.
“Hey, Ally. What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing much, just watching some TV. You?”
“Hmm, I’m just sitting here, bored.”
“Ohhhh, I see.” There was a brief moment of silence. “Did you go to the assembly today?”
“What, you mean for class rings, right?”
“Yeah.”
We spent the next ten or so minutes carrying on, making casual conversation. Our ability to communicate was one of the greatest things about our relationship, and it was one of the reasons I liked her so much.
But, she knew there was ulterior motive behind me randomly calling at eight o’clock at night. There didn’t have to be, but she knew there was. I was sexually deprived, and she wanted to assist me. Out of politeness, we always opened up by talking and making sure both parties were in a good mood; to go forward and proposition someone when they are distraught is the last thing one should do – it is presumptuous and maladaptive. It indicates apathy and a lack of forethought.
“So, Ally, I was wondering if I could be so crazy as to ask you a question…”
“A question?” She responded curiously.
“Yes, it’s about my, uh… kink.”
“Ohhhhh… Yeah, sure, you can ask.”
“Oh, alright, cool…” I paused for a moment. “You remember how you told me about that time you had waited too long and almost wet yourself?” The very words made my blood flow.
“Mmhm.”
“I was wondering if there were maybe any other times…?”
“…Hmm, yeah, I think so.”
“Would you be willing to tell me about them?”
“Uh huh, I’ve just got to try and remember them.”
“’Kay.” The next several moments were filled with what I felt to be an awkward silence, but I couldn’t tell if it was awkward for her too.
“I do remember one. But I don’t know if it counts…”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s hard to explain. I’ll just tell you, I guess.”
“Alright, I suppose we’ll see then.”
“Yep… Well, this was… a few years ago. I was swimming in Fiza’s pool and, I don’t know about you, but when I swim, I usually have to pee pretty quickly. And, well, we were having fun so I didn’t want to get out.”
“How come you didn’t go in the pool?”
“I don’t know, I just think it’s kinda nasty… I mean, come on, you’d be swimming around in your own urine.”
“The chlorine kills anything bad, and plus, I’m sure Fiza was doing it.”
“Nope, Fiza doesn’t like it either. That was another big reason I never did it, because it was her pool and I knew she hated that.”
“Eh, I don’t know, I don’t think it’s that big of a deal.”
“It’s not, really, it is just kinda nasty, I guess.”
“Eh…”
“Hmm, coming from the perve with the pee fetish… I’m sure you’d like it.”
“Hurr, you’re funny.”
“Mmhm, I know.”
“Alright, alright, so what happened in your story?”
“Okay, well, we were swimming around, I had to pee, having fun… all of that. And, after awhile, it got kinda bad. Really bad.”
“Could she tell you had to go?”
“I had mentioned it a few times and she told me she did too. Neither of us really thought much about it because we didn’t expect anything to happen. And she couldn’t really see what I was doing under the water.”
“… What you were doing under the water?”
“Yeah, I was holding myself and rubbing my legs together. You know, stuff like that. Oh, and, I don’t if it’s just me, but holding it feels different when you’re swimming. I mean, don’t jump to any conclusions here, but it actually feels kinda good.”
“Hmm, yeah, I figured it was just me, too, but having to go under water does feel kind of good.”
“Yeah, it’s like a…. tingly feeling. So, I mean, Fiza had me distracted and the urge wasn’t really bothering me… So I just kinda stayed. Which is dumb, since we were laughing and stuff. It was really just a matter of time.
“You were laughing?”
“Yeah, you know, we were just hanging out and having a good time. That’s why I didn’t get out.”
“Oh, I see. I can imagine laughing doesn’t help much when you need to pee.”
“Ha, not at all… Actually, I’ve had a few ‘close-calls’ from laughing.”
“You have, huh?”
“Oh yeah, it’s the worst… but one story at a time!”
“Heh, yeah, of course. Please, go on.”
“Alright, well, like I said, I had to pee really bad; and, I guess Fiza thought it would be a good idea to go underwater and swim toward me – she was always a really fast swimmer. She swam behind me and, like an idiot, I didn’t keep track of her. Before I knew it, she had gotten between my legs and was coming up. She lifted me in the air and I fell backwards into the water…”
“Ha, wow, she really got you.”
“Yeah, she did. It was really dumb because the water was clear, too! I really should have expected it… But, the best part is that when she lifted me up, I wasn’t ready for it… so... I might have peed, just a little…”
“Wait, wait, wait, you mean you peed on her?”
“Just a little!”
“Oh, wow, Ally.”
“There was a lot of water splashing around, okay? She couldn’t have felt it. I’m sure none of it even got on her.”
“Whatever gets you to sleep at night.”
“I’m serious! The pool was filled with gallons of water! How is she going to feel my pee out of all of that?”
“It isn’t even about the pee, Ally. It’s just… the premise of what happened.”
“The premise… It was an accident!”
“I know, I know, it’s just… That’s hilarious!”
“… Do you want me to tell you this story or not?”
“Ha, ha, sorry! Please, continue.”
“Okay, thank you, now, as I was saying: after my little… situation-
“-before or after you peed on your friend?”
“…”
“Sorry, sorry! Go on!”
“…” She sighed. “Anyway, I had to go a lot more at that point. I had already let a little out and the rest wasn’t far behind. We were both laughing hysterically and that wasn’t helping…. I sorta like, yelled that I had to pee and I started running to the stairs of the pool. But, I couldn’t really run fast because of the water; and I felt like an idiot, holding myself, running at like, one mile per hour.”
“You know, one mile per hour actually isn’t that bad.”
“What?”
“I mean, that’s pretty fast for someone running through water.”
“… Okay, new rule, you’re not allowed to speak until I finish the story.”
“Heh, sorry.”
“Alright, so, I was trying to get out of the pool before I started going. I climbed the stairs and like, the second my butt got out of the water I lost control, but only for a second.”
“Wait, what do you mean you ‘lost control?’”
“Like, a quick stream kinda came out. I couldn’t stop it.”
“Did she see it?”
“… No, there was too much water pouring off my bikini. She had no idea.”
“Oh, yeah, what were you wearing?”
“Just a two piece swimsuit.”
“… I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a swimsuit before…”
“I guess I’ll have to show you sometime, then. Maybe we can go swimming together.”
“Maybe recreate this event…?”
“Maybe…”
“…So, what color was the bikini?”
“Red. Well, more like a dark crimson, if anything.”
“Mmm, kinky.”
“Yep. Anyway, I got out and like, grabbed myself again, but it wasn’t doing much. We normally peed behind her shed which was only a few feet away, but as I ran, I could feel pee just sorta of… squirting out. I couldn’t control it at all.”
“She couldn’t see that?”
“Nope. A lot of it was running down my legs, so she couldn’t tell the difference between it and the pool water.”
“And what about you? Could you feel it?”
“Yeah, it was a lot warmer than the pool water. Not to mention I was kinda peeing on my hand, because I was trying to hold it back.”
“Ohhh.”
“Mmhm, the breeze was chilly as hell too. That was one of the reasons I was having so much trouble holding on. It caught me off guard.”
“That’d make sense.”
“Yeah, so, I got behind the shed; and at this point, I had completely lost control. I just stood there, legs spread, peeing full force through my bikini. There was still a little running down my legs, but most of it was just pouring straight to the ground. I was a little worried she would suspect something since the second I had made it out of sight, it started hitting the ground, and it was kinda loud. She could probably hear. But I don’t think she cared much, to be honest. It wasn’t like we hadn’t peed in our swimsuits before.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“What?”
“You are just a never-ending fountain of stories… No pun intended.”
“Ha, yeah, I guess I am. Bet that makes you happy, huh?”
“Hell yes it does…”
“We haven’t even known each other that long and you’ve already seen me pee myself…”
“Well, in your defense, I kinda asked you to do it.”
“True, but it was still a real accident. You should be proud.”
“Don’t you worry,” I laughed. “I am. But what about your story? What happened?”
“Oh, I just walked back to the pool and got back in. Laughed it off.”
“Ah… Did it feel good?”
“Did what?”
“You know, wetting yourself.”
“Oh… Eh, yeah. It felt really weird, because my bladder was like ridiculously full. I swear I peed a gallon behind her shed; and when you swim it sorta feels different when you let go. Just like when you’re holding it.”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, and I guess the pee felt kinda nice because it was warm. The wind was chilly, like I said before…”
“Yep.”
“So… I suppose that’s it!”
“Wow. That was really fantastic!”
“You really liked it that much?”
“I wish I could have been there, Ally. That sounded amazing! And it even sounded kind of fun for you.”
“Heh, yeah, I guess it wasn’t too bad. I mean, it wasn’t that embarrassing and it felt nice. But it was still a really close-call!”
“Hmm, did you almost lose it in front of your friend?”
“Oh yeah, like, when I rounded the corner of the shed I was already peeing full force. I literally couldn’t hold on at all.”
“God, you know just how to word things… And if you had peed in front of her?”
“I don’t know, I guess it would have been kind of embarrassing. I mean, she wouldn’t have been mean or anything, but she would have teased me and stuff.”
“Mmm, naturally.”
“Yep.”
“… So, uh, maybe I’m being a bit… fast, but, before you mentioned something about laughing?”
“Hmm? Oh, yeah. I’ve had quite a few little things happen to me. Those are hard to remember, though.”
“I’m in no hurry.”
She giggled. “Of course you aren’t!”
“Heh… so, I have a question that might jog your memory.”
“Yes?”
“Have you ever leaked from laughing?”
“What? You mean have I ever peed a little?”
“Yeah, you know… Just a little.”
“… Hmm, maybe.”
“Would you like to tell me about it…?”
“Maaaaaybe.”
“And what does that mean?”
“I want something from you first.”
“And what might that be?”
“Uhhh, I’m not sure yet.” Her voice was more playful than usual.
“Hmm, well, I don’t know. I can’t help you unless you tell me what you want…”
“Okay, okay! Just give me a minute…”
“Alright.”
There was a brief silence.
“Okay, I know what I want you to do.”
“Alright, I’m listening.”
“I want you to say: ‘Ally is the most beautiful girl in the world and I am her eternal slave.’”
“What?”
“Say it.”
“You want me to say…that?”
“Yes, but only if it’s true!”
“Ha, alright, I’ll bite: Ally is the most beautiful girl in the world and I am her eternal sex slave – Slave! I mean slave! Shit.”
“Ha ha ha!” Our conversation was temporarily put on hold for her to laugh hysterically.
“Alright, alright…” My cheeks burned.
“Wow, I guess we both know what’s on your mind!”
“Yeah, well, when you tell me stories like this you’ve got to expect it.”
“Ha, oh, wow, that was even better than I expected! But I better stop, don’t want to wet myself…”
“Ha ha,” I gave her a stale laugh. “Hilarious. At least I didn’t pee on my friend.”
“You wish.”
“Alright, alright, I see how it is. I did your bidding. Now uphold your side of the deal!”
She sniffed. “Ha, alright. Let me just wipe these tears of hilarity from my eyes…”
I sighed.
“Alright… Okay, so here is what happened…”
According to Alyssa, it happened during first period Drawing. She was mingling, cracking jokes, and listening to the ridiculous antics of her friends. However, there was one friend in specific whom stood out. He had an odd sense of wit and he seemed to crack the most peculiar jokes at the most unsuspecting of moments. He had been extra quiet that day, so the execution was even riper.
Another one of her friends – a female sitting directly across from her – had chosen the perfect time to take a drink of her water, and the moment the ridiculous friend cracked the joke, water was sprayed on the table. This had started a bit of an uproar, and Ally couldn’t help but bust out into hysterics.
Despite being only first period, she had needed to pee. The urge was not at all extreme; for if it had been, she would have simply excused herself to the restroom. However, it was enough so that when the unexpected pressure was exerted via the laugh, a bit of urine managed to force its way out.
She described it as a leak. More than a dribble, less than a stream, but enough to make her worry – even if only a little – that there would be visible damage. She was nude at the time, covered by nothing but her rich, multi-colored fur. There was no way enough urine had left her for it to be obviously visible on the fur (although, possibly identifiable by the observant eye); but what she worried about was the chair. When she stood, it was possible a bit would be left there, and she could do nothing but walk away, leaving it there, and possibly having someone discover she had leaked. She had the option of cleaning it up, but that would be too suspicious.
She rubbed her butt back and forth on the chair, making sure that any run-away urine was captured in her fur. Her hand – out of sheer compulsion – had leapt downward when she leaked, in order to prevent a flood; and, fortunately, no one had noticed. She checked for damaged and realized that yes, her fur was wet, but it wasn’t that bad. She didn’t know if any had made it to the chair, but she was confident that her butt had done a more than suffice job at drying up the hypothetical moisture.
When she was mostly sure that there was no clear evidence, she stood and glanced at chair, quickly pushing it in. It was dry. She asked for permission to use the restroom, and then promptly headed there to check the damage. The only spot that had really taken any damage was right between her legs, facing more toward her backside than her front. All in all, though, no one would be able to make the miniscule amount of urine. With the exception of a cold, clammy feeling whenever her thighs touched, it was like it had never even happened.
“… And that’s it!”
“Damn it, Ally! I don’t think you could be any hotter if you tried!”
“Heh, really?”
“Yeah, you are just… that was just… Ugh!”
“Well, if you keep spending time with me, it is bound to happen again. It isn’t exactly rare!”
“Ha, yeah, I can tell by these stories. When did that one happen, by the way?”
“Um, like, a few months ago, I think.”
“Awesome.” |
I'm glad you enjoyed it! Also, I took your advice and decided to add a little detail to the peeing parts.
I exhaled deeply and continued to gaze out the window. The sky was dark and the wind was beginning to pick up, but I was confident she would arrive before the rain. It had been nearly a week since she had told me her stories, and since then, nothing relating to my fetish had happened. We had spent a bit of time over the week touching each other and kissing, but – as enjoyable as that was – it wasn’t the same… I had wanted to mention it again, maybe press her for more stories, but I was deeply afraid I would push things too far.
And, while it may sound greedy, there was something else I wanted as well: for her to hold it for me. I knew that if I requested stories, I would find myself stuck in that buffer period described before, and I wouldn’t be able to make any more requests. The only issue with getting her to hold it was finding a time and place. The woods were too unconventional. I can tell that on formal request, she wouldn’t go for it. The first time had only been a fluke and a complete matter of coincidence.
To do it at one of our homes would most certainly lead to being caught, whether it was before, during, or after the act in question. It simply requires too much time and possible clean up to risk it with our parents home. However, the only flaw was our parents, and if we were to have a house to ourselves… Well, that would change things.
Now, Ally has brothers, so even if her parents weren’t home, it still wouldn’t be a safe bet. However, I am an only child, which means if my parents were to leave, there would be nothing stopping us. We could do anything we wanted without worry of being caught, assuming I was confident that my parents would not return prematurely.
As it so happens, my parents had informed me several days ago that they would be going to visit my grandparents; and, after a brief conversation regarding safety and not opening the door for anyone, I was able to convince them to let me stay. Needless to say, the following days were both bliss and agony, excitement and anticipation. But finally, it was Saturday, and they had already left. All I had to do was wait for Ally’s arrival. Of course, I also had to talk her into actually holding it…
A purple minivan pulled up in front of my house and the passenger door opened. It was Ally. I headed downstairs and opened the front door, expecting her to be there, ready to knock. I was surprised to find she was still standing by the minivan, most likely talking to her mother. It was an awkward few seconds, but soon, the door closed and she hurried toward me. I noticed the van lingered just a bit longer than necessary before it drove off.
“Hey,” I greeted her with a smile.
“Hey, Leo!”
“What was that about?” I closed the front door behind us.
“Oh, my mom was just giving me the same ol’ speech she always gives me. You know, don’t take candy from strangers, don’t have sex with random people… You know how it is.”
“Ha, yeah, I got that earlier. Oh, and judging by the bag in your hand, it was a yes?”
“Yep! It took a little convincing and some puppy dog eyes, but I managed to get her to let me stay the night. Though, she thinks your parents are here.”
“Puppy dog eyes?”
“Uh huh, you just have to pout a little, like this.” She looked at me and gave me an exaggerated frown.
“Oh yeah, I’m sure you nearly had her in tears.”
“Uh huh, I got her to say yes, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, but she still thinks my parents are here… If only she knew the dirty, forbidden truth.”
“Heh, yeah, she even asked why there were no cars in the driveway when we pulled up.”
“Oh shit! What’d you say?”
“I just told her they probably went out for a few minutes to pick something up.”
“And she believed it?”
“I’m not really sure! I guess she did, since I’m here!”
“Hmm, yeah, I suppose that makes sense... Anyway, at least she didn’t offer to wait for them to get back or something.”
“Ohhhh, that would’ve sucked.”
“Uh huh, we would’ve been busted…”
“… Oh, by the way, she wants me to give her a call around nine. Just to make sure I’m ‘alright.’”
“Ha, right, sounds good.”
“Just don’t let me forget, because if I don’t call, she’ll call. And the last thing I want is to give her a reason to talk to your parents.”
“Alright, I’ll try and remember.”
We both sat down on the loveseat in the living room. I put my arm over her shoulders and kissed her on the cheek.
“You smell really nice. Like… I want to say some expensive perfume.”
“Heh, thanks, I can see you noticed.”
“Mmhm, hard not to notice when you smell like that – and by that, I mean so good.”
“Well, isn’t someone awfully flirty today?”
“… Aren’t I always?”
“Only when you want something…” She giggled.
Her words sent sabers threw my heart. Only when I want something? What was that supposed to mean?
“Something the matter?”
“…Is that true?”
“Is what?”
“Am I only flirty when I want something?”
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant that like, when we’re getting close and stuff you get a lot more… um, I guess flirty is the right word. It’s hard to explain; but trust me, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Oh, I see.”
“It’s like, when we’re kissing and stuff. You get a lot more sensitive and nice and stuff. It’s not like you aren’t normally like that, I just mean you get really… really nice when we’re messing around. I mean, everyone does. I’m just having trouble finding the words…”
“…Ohhhhh, I think I see what you mean now… Yeah, no, I understand.”
“So you get it? I wasn’t trying to insult you or anything.”
“No, no, I understand. That was my mistake; it’s just that I actually did kind of want something… and I didn’t really want you to think I was only being nice to you because of it.”
“Of course not, Leo! You’re just a really sweet guy all around; I just wanted to say you get even more… I don’t know, sensual when we kiss and stuff…”
“Ohhhhhh, alright. Yeah, that’s what I figured you meant… Well, after you specified earlier.”
“Yeah, I didn’t want to insult you! …But, uh, if you don’t mind me asking, what did you want?”
“Oh… I was going to ask you if we could maybe do that thing… That thing you did in the woods that day?”
“You mean wet myself?”
“Well, uh, you know, hold it for awhile, and if it leads to that… I guess I wouldn’t complain. I was hoping to ease into it a little more, but you know… Heh, misunderstanding…”
“Hmm, alright. I suppose we could do that...”
“You’re okay with it?”
“Uh huh, it’s a little uncomfortable… But, you know, you’re worth it.” She went forward and gave me a quick peck on the lips.
“You’re the best.”
We spent the next hour kissing and holding each other, somehow getting off to the fact we weren’t in my room with the door locked. Something about being on the loveseat felt oddly taboo. And while I don’t know if she felt the same way, thinking about what was going to happen later in the night also felt taboo, in its own arousing little way.
I didn’t try and coax her into drinking anything, although I considered it. I figured we may as well take the event casually and enjoyably. We had all night for her to get desperate, and quite frankly, a few more hours of squirming didn’t bother me. I felt bad she had to be desperate all that time, but it wasn’t as if it was pure suffering or anything like that! There was nothing for her to lose; in fact, she was going to wet herself either way, so it made sense for her to just relax and take it in stride.
By the end of our elongated make-out session I finally asked that inevitable question:
“So, do you have to pee at all yet?”
“A little. It isn’t bad, though, since I went before I got here.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Yeah, I didn’t drink much, either! …Though, I could maybe drink a little water if you want?”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll go grab something for us both to drink.”
After getting the drinks, I put in a DVD and we both sat down, holding each other, occasionally purring as we kissed and fondled. There wasn’t much in the glasses – since, as I stated before, I didn’t want to fill her up too quickly and spoil the fun – but it was apparently enough; because about half an hour into the movie, she whispered in my ear that it was getting worse.
“I would probably be pausing the movie and going around now. Well, I wouldn’t, but a normal person would.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you know I tend to hold it longer than I should sometimes… I’m pretty bad with movies.” She laughed.
“Heh, sounds like you’re speaking from experience.” My heart was beginning to pump.
“Maybe…”
“So I’m guessing, what, you’ve had to go really bad during a movie before and you held out too long?”
“… Yeah, maybe…”
“Hmm, would you like to tell me about it?”
“…Heh, maybe after the movie.” I could tell by the smooth, sensual way she was talking to me, and by the slight giggle she gave at the end of the statement that she was teasing me. Whether or not she got off to the desperation I could not yet judge; however, it was plainly obvious she had a thing for a teasing. Which, to a person like myself, was not at all a curse!
I quickly got us both more to drink and returned to watching the movie. By the half way point, I asked how she was feeling; and, while she was rather caught up in the picture, I did get a reply: she told me it had gotten worse. She said that it wasn’t too bad, but it was getting distracting, and even somewhat persistent. I noticed her thighs were pressed together, although I couldn’t tell if this was just done for comfort, or otherwise.
However, I soon noticed her feet beginning to compulsively tap. Not loud, but just enough so I could see the desperation beginning to slowly build. I didn’t say anything, though, in a way preferring the ability to nakedly observe her behavior. Behavior I wasn’t even sure she realized. However, after another half hour had come and gone, there was no denying it. She gave a heavy sigh and crossed her legs, looking oddly formal and stiff in the position.
“Okay, I’ve gotta go now.” She said it low, almost so low that I wasn’t sure that I was intended to hear.
“Gettin’ worse?”
“Yeah,” her voice no longer teased. “That water you gave me really sped this up.”
I almost laughed at her response. I could careless that I had, in some ways, botched my own plan; I would have had to be pretty particular to care about something so miniscule. After all, I had this beautiful, wonderful thing sitting next to me, legs crossed, bladder full; and the icing on the cake, it was all voluntary! There was no need for guilt or regrets, since I didn’t cause these events through any sort of foul-play! She simply did it because she loved me… Or so, I wondered.
Another half hour went by, and at this point, the movie was coming to an end. There was only another ten minutes to go; but I was more fascinated by her and how many more minutes she had to go. Her legs had taken on a consistent habit of bouncing, and her hands restlessly rubbed the creamy fur of her thighs, almost as if that would relieve some of the growing tension in her bladder.
“Shit…” She moaned to herself.”
“Is it bad?”
“It’s getting’ there…”
“Would you have gone if you were alone?”
“No, probably not. I would probably hold it until the end.”
And that she did. When the movie was finally over, she gave a relieved sigh and stood up. At first, I was a little worried she was going to run to the toilet, but instead she stood there with her legs snapped shut, bouncing up and down. Her breasts imitated the rest of her body and lightly shook, creating another arousing focal point.
“Christ, that was long!”
“Yeah, two hours. What, didn’t you like it?”
“No, I mean, it was great, but it was just really long.” I watched her grind her thighs together, her bladder obviously pulsating with fullness. Her hands were at her sides, tightly gripping her fur; I could tell they wanted nothing more than to slide their way between her legs and help her control the coming waterfall.
“You’re just saying that because you’ve gotta pee so bad. Really, it wasn’t that long. I mean, it was no Titanic.”
“Ugh, who cares? Any movie is long when you’ve got to pee the entire time.”
“Heh, truer words have never been spoken.”
“And can you explain the ending? I didn’t really get it.”
I sighed. “… Okay, um, well, it was sorta like they left it up for interpretation. In a way, it’s like some never ending chain of Bruce Willis killing himself because of himself… or something.”
“Okay, okay, forget I asked. It was good, and that’s all that matters.”
“Ha, yeah, it’s probably easier that way. Here, I’ll be right back, I’m gonna grab you some water.”
“Oh, wow, always looking out for me, eh?” Her thighs were still sliding back and forth as she did her dance.
“Always.”
I refilled her glass and returned to the living room. Nothing had changed in her mannerisms, but her stance was altered. Her hand now rested on her slightly protruding stomach, gently caressing her swollen bladder. I could tell her fingers wanted to slide between her legs and press down, but she fought the urge, most likely because I was there, watching her squirm.
She quickly downed the water, knowing that delaying was doing her no good. Once again, I almost laughed at how spectacularly my plan had failed, but it didn’t matter. The plan was nothing more than mental masturbation in the end anyway. It was the results that mattered, and knowing Ally, the results would be golden.
“So, how are you doing?”
“Well, I really have to pee. Other than that, great.”
“… Heh, I could tell. If I didn’t know better, I would say it is actually getting pretty bad...”
“… Now whatever would lead you to believe that?”
”I dunno… Just a hunch…”
“Ugh!” She moaned. “I’ve gotta pee, so, much!” Finally, her hand, with no shame, went forward and pressed down on her most intimate of spots. She arched her knees as she bent slightly forward, her butt sticking out behind her.
“Oh? So it’s really bad, then?”
“Like, you wouldn’t, believe.” She sighed heavily. “Christ!”
“Seems like this all came on pretty quickly.”
“Quickly? It’s been over three hours and I’ve had like, three glasses of water – not counting what I drank before I even got here!”
“Eh, more like two glasses, since you just had the third…”
“Isn’t that enough?”
“Heh, I suppose. You probably just have a small bladder or something.”
“You’d like that wouldn’t you?”
“Heh, maybe a little…”
“Ugh, a small bladder… That would explain a lot…”
The next ten seconds were spent in silence. I watched her dance around, clutching her groin, each second the pressure of her bladder coming closer and closer to overwhelming her.
“Hmm… how would like to try something?”
“Does this ‘something’ involve me going to the bathroom…?”
“Heh, not quite.”
“Somehow I didn’t think so.”
“So… you want to give it a try?”
“That depends on what it is, Leo.”
“Okay, well, it’s just sort of a little challenge.”
“A Challenge?”
“Yeah, but I promise it isn’t too hard!”
“… Well, I don’t know what you could possibly want me to do. And, for that matter, I don’t know what I could do like this.”
“It’s easy! All you have to do are ten squats!”
“… Squats?”
“Yes.”
“… Leo, you’re aware that… if I do ten squats, I’m going to pee.”
“Well, the challenge is that you hold it.”
“No, I gathered that, I promise… What I mean is that I will lose control. I don’t know how it is for guys, but when a girl has to pee and she squats, it usually doesn’t end well.”
“… Speaking from experience?”
“Heh, not this time, Leo… I normally have the common sense not to squat when I have to pee.”
“Well! There is only one way to find out what will happen then!”
“I already know what will happen. I will stain this carpet and your parents will ask you: “son, why is there a pee stain on our carpet.” And you know what? You won’t know what to say to them, Leo, all because you wanted me to do some squats.”
“Ha, okay, okay, message received. Ten squats equals too much; but, how about five? That can’t possibly be too much… Not if you really try!”
“Five…” she sighed heavily. “Fuck, I don’t know how you talk me into this shit, Leo. I really have no clue.”
“So you’ll do it?”
“Yes, but I can’t guarantee you it’s gonna end very well… I already gave you the hypothetical with the stain and the carpet.”
“Heh, I think I’ll take my chances… As long as you promise not to let go on purpose!”
“’On purpose’ isn’t what you should be worried about right now, Leo.” She straightened up, but she didn’t remove her hand from her crotch. She looked at me, a bit uneasy, but I saw her legs spread slightly.
“Oh, wait, you can’t use your hands! That makes it unfair!”
“Unfair? Leo, you may as well just ask me to squat down right here and pee! You’re being ridiculous!”
“Come on! It can’t be that bad!”
“You’re not the one who has to pee! … Ugh, I guess I can try it...”
“That’s all I can ask for, isn’t it? For you to try.”
“Yeah, yeah…” I could see her swallow as she pulled her hand away from her groin. Her legs immediately went into overtime, sliding back and forth. I watched her body go up and down. I was beginning to worry I had underestimated her desperation. Maybe she was worse than I thought. From the looks of things, she could barely stand there with both hands free, let alone do squats.
But it was too late to turn back. “Alright, here I go…” She delayed a few seconds and gave a low, concerned moan. Suddenly, she dropped, her butt nearly touching the floor. Her legs were spread, revealing her intimate area to me – though, as always, it was masked by her fur. The entire event did not last long. I saw her face go from blank curiosity to off-color awe in an instant. I saw a stream of urine, almost so thin and quick that it evaded my sight, fall to the carpet. Immediately, she forced herself back to her feet and stemmed the stream.
Both of her hands were clutching her groin as she kneeled, her gorgeous butt once again sticking out. The palms of her hands were taking up in so much space, she couldn’t close her legs all the way; so they were a few inches apart, shaking and struggling, wanting to once again meet to reinforce each other.
“Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said you’d pee.”
“You think? Christ, Leo… I told you I would go!”
“What happened? It looked like you only went for a second. I’m surprised you managed to stop the stream… At least needing to go as badly as you do.”
“Yeah, well, welcome to the club. I’m surprised too. Normally when a girl starts going like that, it’s all out. This was a little different, though. It was like squatting just forced out a little squirt and that was it. Luckily for you and your carpet, I managed to stop it; but honestly, the urge is worse now, and it was pretty bad before!”
“Think you could make it to my room?”
“Up the stairs? Yeah, not gonna happen… Unless you want a small waterfall going down your steps.”
“Okay, uh, we could use the other bathroom... It has tile too.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“Oh, and… Uh, Ally?” I could feel my face beginning to cringe as I said the words.
“Yeah?” She hadn’t moved. She was still clutching her groin, afraid to move her hand.
“I think we kinda forgot something.”
“What…?”
“It’s 9:04.”
“… Oh Christ! I need to call my mom!”
“… Do you think you can call her like that?”
“Fuck, I don’t have a choice… It shouldn’t take too long. I should be able to hold on long enough.” I watched her remove one of her hands. Her thighs were immediately pushed back together. “Ugh, my fur is wet.” She wiped her hand on her leg. “I’m so gonna need a shower after this.”
“Ha, yeah, I would think so… Here, let me get the phone for you…”
I walked off and grabbed the phone. I stood for a minute and caught my breath. I couldn’t believe what was happening. It was almost too fast for me to even grasp it.
“I can see you enjoyed my little… leak.” She said, looking down at my erect member when I returned.
“I’m enjoying all of this, Ally.”
“Ugh, you better be. I can’t describe to you how badly I have to pee right now.”
“Heh, I wish you would.” It really wasn’t necessary, though. After all, it was apparent enough by the cute way she danced when I reentered the living room. It was obvious by the way her free-hand grabbed desperately at her groin, trying – now with motive – to hold out just a little longer.
“Har har, very funny. Now give me the phone before I try and squat on your face.”
“Hmm, feisty!”
She dialed the number and started to pace around the living room. Her mom answered and they exchanged the usual greetings. I watched her as she went back and forth, going up and down, occasionally rubbing her legs together. A few times she even pressed both legs together and kneeled, as if some great wave threatened to overflow.
The conversation carried on and she meandered into the kitchen. Steadily, as her mother refused to stop talking, her desperation got worse. At first, I was confident she would make it through the call; but as the length continued to surprise me and her bladder seemed to grow weaker at an alarming pace – as a result of her earlier leak, no doubt – I had begun to wonder if she would have an accident before the call ended!
She had taken on a new habit of stopping, crossing her legs, and standing in a half leaning position, hand pressed down on her thigh. She would only assume this stance for a few seconds, but it was enough for me to grasp the gravity of her desperation.
“Uh huh… He did that… Really now?” Several times she looked at me with longing. One time she even mouthed “oh my God.” It was only a few minutes, but I could tell the call was quickly taking more time than Ally had to spare. Her hand now pressed down on her groin with dire intensity and her dancing could only be described as a sort of rabid vivacity. On the phone or not, an accident was near. I had even begun to wonder if she dropped the phone and immediately made a dash for the toilet if she would make it…
I could feel my erection pulsating with arousal. I had a strong urge to touch myself, and, while I admit this rather shamefully, there were a few moments I may have grazed it when she looked away. Just watching her, each movement of the hand or the leg, each strained expression of the face: it was all too much. I could feel an end coming on to our games; it was a bittersweet sensation, but one that could not possibly be ignored. It was a sensation I had to experience.
“Yeah… Uh huh, sure… No, nothing’s wrong!” Her mother was apparently talkative, because the phone call had been going on for almost ten minutes. Finally, she stopped pacing and I saw her eyes close. She bit down on her lip and her face seemed to scrunch up. All except the shaking in her legs had faded, and she remained perfectly still.
“Oh!” Her eyes popped open and she stared at me, both terrified and curious. Her entire body flinched with the little outburst. “Um… I-I just stubbed my toe!” She said over the phone. Her voice was strained and she quickly wiped tears out of her eyes. She didn’t resume pacing, but rather she shifted on the spot. As her legs spread – even though it was only for a faintest of seconds – I heard a splattering noise, and sure enough, upon looking down I saw a small puddle of urine on the linoleum floor. I could see a few small streams going down her legs, but it didn’t seem as if anymore had come of it. It was just another leak.
Or so I thought. Only seconds later I heard a loud hissing noise fill the kitchen; it was so loud I was a little worried her mom would hear it over the phone! She was staring at me the entire time, still talking to her mom, trying not to let the massive pleasure sweeping over her carry to her voice and give away her actions. The strain was explainable at least, but a relieving sigh or sensual moan would be a bit suspicious.
There were small rivulets of urine flowing down her legs, rapidly causing the puddle on the floor to grow. I could see the shock in her eyes through the tears of divine release and unpreventable embarrassment. However, it was her stance which was quite possibly the most erotic thing of the event. Her legs were positioned in way that made them almost completely symmetrical to each other and her hand was slipped gingerly between them; she was standing mostly straight, but slightly bent at the knees; and at the knees was where her legs split, causing her feet to point diagonally, more toward me than anything else. The way she stared at me, too, was also a cause of great arousal. Her look was so desperate and innocent. I had a strange inclination to walk over and hug her, yet, I knew it wasn’t a good time.
She looked down and examined the damage, while simultaneously growing the puddle on the floor and spreading the wetness on her fur. She removed her hand and shook it, trying to get off the urine. She wiped it on her thigh and then spread her legs. The urine splattered on the ground like before, so she quickly closed her legs again. It wouldn’t have been an issue if her mother hadn’t been still talking to her.
“Uh huh… Yeah, I know what you mean…” She did amazingly well at keeping up the conversation. I quickly became aware of how much two glasses of water was, because the puddle was growing so big so fast I had to rush over to a cupboard and grab a towel to mop it up; at least before it made its way under the refrigerator. She glanced back at me and I saw her mouth: “oh shit.” Obviously surprised at how much she had peed.
She didn’t turn around, though. I was behind her, mopping up the accident, and I looked over at her tender, plump behind. I could see urine glimmering in the light as it ran down the back of her legs. I could even see it dripping off of her fur at various places, adding to the puddle I was cleaning.
Judging from the hissing that was being exhumed from her groin, I could tell it was slowing down. It started off strong, but steadily it was growing quieter and quieter. Soon, it couldn’t be heard at all, and I assumed she was done; but there were a few loud spurts that she pushed out that hadn’t left her during the initial accident. The pressure behind her pushing made them incredibly loud, and once again I was concerned her mother might overhear something.
Finally, though, the accident came to an end. I could tell she was about to wrap up the phone call too, and with perfect timing. She lifted one leg up to step out of the puddle and I could see the fur guarding her feminine place heavy and wet. I figured from the right angle I may have been able to actually get a look at it, but that angle was impossible to me at the time. Then, in one instant of incomprehensible and unexplainable eroticism, a single drop of urine fell from an askew piece of fur directly below her womanhood. It landed in and became one with the puddle below her.
“Okay mom. Bye. I love you too. Yeah, it’ll be fine. Uh huh, I will. Okay. Good night. Love you, too.” And she hung up the phone. “Oh my God…”
“Long call?”
“She just wouldn’t shut up… Christ!” She lifted her leg and started examining the damage. “Yeah, so, two cups of water was more than you thought, huh?”
“There is a hell of a lot more than two cups of water here, Ally.”
“I don’t know, I didn’t drink much before I came.”
“You could’ve fooled me…”
“… So, how was it? Did you enjoy it?”
“Oh God… I can’t even find the words.”
“So… You did?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.”
“I’m glad,” she smiled and sniffed.
“… How come you cried?”
“I don’t know. It’s really intense to like, wet yourself like that. There was just so much going on.”
“You’re alright, right?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine… Though, I’m a little wet…”
“Well, yeah, that’s to be expected.”
She giggled. “Yeah.”
Before she could freely walk around the house, I had to hand her a towel to dry off her legs. After she did that, she grabbed her bag -- of what I then discovered to be clothing – and went upstairs to take a shower. As she used my bathroom to shower, I couldn’t help but use the downstairs bathroom for my own deviant purposes.
I left the door open behind me, finding the small chance I could be caught erotic. I stood in front of the toilet, unable to control myself any longer. I felt ready to explode. I had watched her have a massive accident, one that was not only involuntary, but actually at the worst possible time. It had been beyond perfect. The way she looked at me, the way she stood, the volume of the hissing, the growing of the puddle…
I didn’t last long. |
I could still here the water running when I entered my room. I lay down on my bed with my eyes open. It had been such a perfect evening! Or that is what I told myself. Somehow, there seemed something missing… As in, there was something more that needed to be done. I was exhausted from the intense excitement and ejaculation I had experienced, yet there was a part of me that begged for more. A part of me that was never satisfied.
Eventually, the water turned off. She dried and made her way out of the bathroom. I looked at her, fur still damp – although any traces of the accident obliterated. She wasn’t nude, like I had expected. Rather, she had dawned panties and a bra, both matching. They were thin, mostly white cotton, but decorated with what appeared to be faded attempts at leopard spots.
“Wow…”
“Yep. I hid them in my pajamas so my mom wouldn’t notice.”
“You look… hot.”
“Hmm, I hope so. It was risky bringing them, but worth it.”
“No, I mean, you look… ridiculously hot right now…”
“Heh, so you’re liking them?”
“I like everything about you, Ally. Including your taste in underwear.”
“Well, I picked these out especially for you.”
“You picked… really well.”
I was blown away. She was just so attractive. Despite my prior exhaustion as well as my explosive orgasm, I felt myself growing hard again. She looked absolutely immaculate in those panties, even hotter than when she had worn the black ones. They were very thin, and somewhat transparent. You could make out her fur beneath the underwear, and something about that drove me wild.
She crawled into bed and curled up next to me. Much like the last time she had worn panties for my pleasure, her head was lying against my chest and her eyes were aimed directly at my hard on. I felt my face grow warm, as it always did.
“Honestly, I figured you’d deal with that while I was in the shower…”
“Heh, well, I kind of did… I just didn’t count on you being… this hot.”
“Oh… I see…” There were a few seconds of silence. “Do you want to deal with it?”
“… What do you mean?”
“You know… Do you want to masturbate?”
“I, uh… I’m not sure how to answer… I suppose that… Yes, I do.”
“Would you mind if I… maybe watched you do it?”
“… You want to watch me?”
“Yeah, well, I mean, I wet myself for you… It’s only fair! I should get something in return…”
“… Yeah, that would be… Yeah, that’s more than fine!”
“Alright, go ahead.”
Sitting there, extremely aroused and about to touch myself while she watched… It was a tense few seconds. I hadn’t considered how difficult it would be to do something like that in front of her. It was always so private, so… uncollected and impromptu.
“What if I do something stupid? What if I take too long? What if I make a dumb noise?”
I swallowed hard and wrapped my hand around my penis. I slid up and down, starting off slow, looking at her body as I did it. I could see her swallow. It wasn’t easy for her either, but I could tell she was enjoying it. I reached out and touched her on hip, gently, making sure not to startle her. She looked back at me, curious, but softly.
“Is it okay… If I touch you a little?”
She looked at me for a second, as if trying to decide on a response. Then, she swallowed and sat up. She sat on her knees, turning around to face me, leaving her in a familiar and tantalizing position. Without a word – but another nervous swallow – she reached back and started to unclip her bra. I could see a deep, penetrating redness come over her cheeks. Her eyes stared at me, almost caressingly. Something about her demeanor, her expression, the way she readied her breasts… The bra unclipped and she slowly started to slide it off. Just before she got it off completely, she paused, like she was nervous.
Finally, the bra slid downward and her breasts lay exposed on her chest. It seemed odd that before I had never registered just how nice they were. They weren’t the biggest in the world, but they were decent, and as I’ve said before, they had a tendency to jiggle at the slightest provocation.
I didn’t have a chance to embarrass myself; she did it for me. She grabbed my hand and led it up to her chest. She placed my half-open palm on her breast and let go. I gave it a gentle squeeze, and like clockwork, she closed her eyes and swallowed again. I searched around, letting my hands caress every inch of the soft mounds. I rubbed her nipple and saw her eyes open. I waited, I wanted to make sure it was alright to continue, but she didn’t say anything.
I allowed my hand to touch the nipple again. She didn’t react. I started to rub it, gently, causing it to harden and stick out, just barely past her fur. I had never seen or felt her nipples before, but it seemed she was finally okay with it. Suddenly, I saw her hand lift from her thigh and move its way to my stomach. She placed her index finger on my ribs and started to softly drag it around. Her position seemed a bit awkward at first, but I quickly adjusted.
Soon, she slid her palm up to my chest and started to rub my nipples as well.
“Ally, what’s gotten into you?”
She looked over at me and stared for a second. Her response lingered in my head for some time.
“You.” She whispered, looking me in the eyes.
I stared at her, red in the face and heart beating. I couldn’t find the words to express the way I felt at that moment, so I let my hand slide down from her breasts. I petted her stomach, grabbing on to the small little roll of flesh around her belly button.
“Stop it… It makes me feel fat when you touch me like that.”
I chuckled. “Oh, stop it, Ally. You look beautiful…” I let my hand slide down lower. I fiddled with the hem of her panties and stroked the soft material. I didn’t stop for long, though. I had a destination. I moved down her side, passing over the panties and stopping on her thigh. I ran my nails through her fur, lightly tickling the sensitive area. A bolt of pleasure ran through her body, causing her to recoil with pleasure. She looked at me and cracked an embarrassed smile.
I worked my way down the side of her thigh, approaching her privates from a new direction. I could feel the muscles in her legs twitching and the heat radiating off of her genitals. She was no longer rubbing my nipples, but was leaning against me, not moving. I looked up at her face and found her eyes once again shut. Her mouth was closed and she had a slight frown, but there was no sadness on her face. There was only contentment and anticipation. Her look was philosophical. It was more considering and reflective than anything else. Her face told me she felt each stroke of my hand in some lethargic, emotional way; it told me she could feel with extreme gravity even the subtlest of movement from my nimble fingers.
Then I felt it. Cotton. I went forward and placed my hand on the flat, cloth surface. I could feel the warmth of her womanhood below my hand. I could feel something soft and inviting, hidden within the woven shield. I stroked the area delicately, testing her tolerance and resilience. Finally, I got a response: it was only a moment, an involuntary moan; it escaped without warning from her lips, and she quickly stifled it, embarrassed and red.
Her eyes opened as I continued to stimulate her lower parts. I carefully skimmed the panties with my fingers and found an extra soft spot. It felt almost swollen, and the more a messed with it the more she responded. Her eyes closed again and every few seconds I managed to squeeze another moan from her. They started off quiet and slow, but there were a few that were loud and come out of nowhere, like a sudden wave of pleasure had hit her, and faded before she could grasp it.
As I went on, her moans started to slow down, and I felt the fabric starting to grow moist. My first instinct said it was urine, but logic took over and realized it was just her female juices. I wondered if she had had an orgasm, but I quickly realized that was not the case. She was growing used to my hand being there… She needed more.
But… Could I? How would she react? What if I messed things up…? I thought about asking her, checking to see if it was okay to go forward, but it didn’t feel right. If I was going to take things farther, I wanted it to be spontaneous and romantic. I wanted it to be something memorable and masculine. I swallowed. I knew I had nothing to gain by stopping, and little lose by progressing; the choice was obvious.
Her eyes shot open and she gasped. Seamlessly, my hands moved the fabric of the panties to the side and touched her privates, flesh to flesh. Peculiarly, the gasp came several seconds after I had touched her. It was like she had been caught up in a fantasy world. As if she had forgotten we were even in bed together. And touching her there, it had brought her back to life.
I felt my heart beating. I kept fiddling with her privates, gently touching the flesh, rubbing it with my palm. She continued to stare at me, but her expression softened a bit more each second. Finally, her eyes were glimmering with tears and her expression seemed almost depressed.
“Are you okay?”
She sniffed. “… I love you, Leo.”
I looked at her, my eyes wide and mouth ajar. “I love you, too.”
“Do you really, Leo?”
“…More than anything in the world… Alyssa.”
She looked at me for several more seconds. It was like she was examining my face to make sure I wasn’t lying. My hand had stopped. I had pulled it out and let the panties slide back over her moist privates. I had intended to continue, to maybe even go further, but she stopped me. She wiped her eyes, went forward, and started kissing me. I wrapped my arms around her and tried to hold on, but after only a few moments, she broke the kiss and slid out of my grip.
At first I was worried: had I flown too close to the sun? No. She had slid down to my hips. She was sitting on her knees between my legs, looking at me, her expression no longer sad, but almost intimidatingly sexual. I watched her go down and kiss me on the stomach – No, below the stomach. She kept kissing me, but went lower and lower. I could feel her breasts pushing into my erection; and, much like she had when I had tickled her thigh, I recoiled in pleasure.
I felt her moist lips press against the base of my member. They went up, deliberately and agonizingly slow. Each time they touched, my body tensed and I had to hold back a growing to desire to cry out in pleasure. She stopped and lifted her head. She looked down at my aching erection. I was no longer embarrassed by her looking at it. I felt too comfortable, too excited. I wanted her to look at it; I wanted her to touch it… I needed her to.
She brought her hand up and used it to lightly grip my shaft. The feeling was indescribable and new. It felt divine and stimulating, like bolts of electricity shooting up my body; yet, even that failed to do it justice. I didn’t think anything could be better. I didn’t think anything could ever feel better than that. But she proved me wrong.
“You smell really nice, Leo…” Her lips spread and wrapped around the head of my cock before I could think of a response. She licked me. I felt her wet tongue slid across the head, licking up any precum which had forced its way out.
“Ughhhgh…” I couldn’t contain it. The moan just forced its way out. I hadn’t even known it was coming.
“Oh, I can see you enjoyed that…” She teased. She went down again, this time going slightly deeper, not stopping at one lick, but doing it in succession.
“Ahhh…” I couldn’t control myself any longer. The moans were forcing their way out. I was almost in tears the sensation was so powerful. I had to remind myself that what I was feeling was good and not bad. It seemed mind boggling that pleasure could be experienced with such poignant intensity.
She removed her hand and went deeper. She was about halfway down, her saliva beginning to slip between her lips and slide down my cock. It was warm and wet, and at times I wondered if I had ejaculated and not even realized it… But I knew I hadn’t. I could feel it coming. It was too close for comfort. She had only been mouthing me for maybe a minute, and I was already about to shoot off. I did everything I could to control it, but the stimulation was so acute… My member was so tired and desperate.
Her head went up and down on my shaft, causing moans to randomly force their way out. The pleasure was too much. I could hardly register the amazing sensation, the completely natural and healthy high. I could feel myself getting close to ejaculation, but I didn’t know what to do. I tried to hold it back, but it didn’t feel like I had any control any longer. I felt every critical system in my body leave my control and enter hers. I felt like she held my entire being in her hand.
I didn’t know if I was supposed to warn her. It was all happening too fast. I thought about doing it, but before I had even begun searching for the words, I felt it. I was thinking too slowly and getting turned on too quickly. It was too late.
“Ughhhhhhhhh!” I let a long, sustained moan, maybe a yell. The pleasure grew even more divine. It became beyond words. It was like all I was feeling was concentrated into one point. Like it had all rushed to my groin and shot out. It was a bolt of lightning through my body and a fire in my heart.
But the pleasure did not come and go like lightening. Rather, it stayed and burned away at me. I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want to breathe. I felt liquid shooting out of me, into her warm, wet mouth. Had she wanted that? I couldn’t even worry. My mind was in too much disarray to worry.
I felt hot sperm running down my cock and getting in my fur. She tried to keep it all in her mouth, but I kept going and going… It was overflowing. Her lips couldn’t hold it all back. The warm substance was dripping down on to my testicles and sliding on to my bed sheets.
Finally, my orgasm came to an end. I recoiled as she kept licking me, my penis now too sensitive to even touch. She pulled off and struggled to swallow the little bit of cum left in her mouth. She was successful at it. She looked at me and sighed.
I was breathing embarrassingly heavy. For a good deal of time I had entirely stopped taking in air; not to mention, the pleasure alone was breathtaking. My crotch felt wet and was beginning to get a bit cold. The cum had lubricated my entire groin, always down to my sheets.
“Sorry about the mess…” She mumbled to me. “I wasn’t able to get it all.”
“It’s... It’s fine…” I struggled between breaths. “You did… fantastic…”
I might be able to. It most likely won't be canonical, but I would be willing to do a side story. I haven't completely decided if I want Ally to have the fetish, and I'm leaning against that. If she enjoys it for more pg-13 reasons, I could work it in; otherwise, it would mostly likely have to be a side story. |
I appreciate that a lot, Fire ninja! Consider me much obliged!
Also, here is the first part of the next chapter. I was initially going to upload the entire thing, but it is beginning to become ridiculously long, so I figured breaking it up would be more consistent.
Chapter 7: Part1:
I was clinging to something soft and warm. It was pressed against my body; or rather, my body was pressed against it. I could feel it all the way from my chest down to my groin.
I opened my eyes and saw something colorful and furry lying next to me. Alyssa. My hands were resting on her soft, squishy tummy, and I saw her breasts go forward and back with each breath she took. I sat up and looked at her face. Her expression was as soft and as warm as her body.
I smiled. I wanted to lean forward and kiss her on the cheek. I wanted to appreciate the decadence of this innocent, sleeping beauty. I wanted to bask in the fact that she was all mine… But I was interrupted. It came out of nowhere and made me recoil in pain. The unexpected feeling was sharp and nearly overwhelming. I grabbed my crotch and did my best to contain the urine that was ready to explode out of me. I let out an inaudible cry and got out of bed, doing my best to move quickly with no jarring movements – any of which could cause me to lose it.
I practically ran across my room, both hands pressing down on my groin. I entered the bathroom and didn’t even take the time to close the door behind me. I headed straight for the toilet, hoping I would get there before I lost control.
Then again, to say I even had control seems inaccurate. My muscles were in a constant state of being relaxed, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to tighten them. It felt as though it was by sheer luck that I wasn’t urinating all over the floor. I was a little worried about what was going to happen when I got to the toilet; but for the time being, I couldn’t complain. After all, I wasn’t wetting myself.
Jinxed it.
I felt an intense stinging sensation at the tip of my member as urine started to drip into my palm. The drips quickly became a small stream. Luckily, I was able to get the toilet seat up before too much damage was done.
I aimed into the toilet and tried to let go, but nothing happened. It was still that slow stream, dripping into the toilet water below. I groaned.
“Come on, come on!” I whispered to myself. My sides were aching and my bladder was throbbing, but I couldn’t seem to go any faster. I don’t think I could have stopped it, either – if I had wanted to do that, for some strange reason…
Suddenly, I heard movement coming from the bedroom. I looked over, and much to my discontent, I found the door still wide open, Ally beginning to stir. I was in quite the situation and it didn’t seem there was anything I could do. The sun was pouring in through the windows, so it would make sense for Ally to be getting up at any point. Though, I can’t imagine the loud splattering of my urine trickling into the toilet helped much either.
The bathroom was opposite of the bed. I could see her, and all she had to do was open her eyes and look in the direction of the suspicious noise to see me.
“Hurry up!” It had only been about 10 seconds since I had begun urinating. The stream was beginning to pick up a little, but judging by the fullness of my bladder and the pace in which I emptied it, I wasn’t going to finish anytime soon. I was just hoping I would finish sometime before I started getting grey fur.
She stirred again.
“Oh crap.”
I saw her slowly sit up, her eyes glazed and uninterested, looking straight at me. I looked back, wide eyed, still peeing at an embarrassingly slow pace.
She squinted a little and gave me an incredulous expression. Her lips moved like she was going to say something, but nothing could be heard. My cheeks were burning and I could feel myself becoming flustered. I wanted to apologize and explain what had happened, but I didn’t know what to say. It was too embarrassing to tell in detail… I needed to at least think of way to word it so I didn’t look so bad.
Then again, did I really have any right to do that? It had only been one night since she had wet herself, completely on my request. She had dealt with my starring and ogling; she had dealt with the evident discomfort holding it brings; and she had even continued to do so when her mom called…
Before I could work the situation out in my head and come up with a suitable thing to say, I saw her expression suddenly change. It was an odd look. Like terror mixed with surprise and discomfort. She sat straight up, her entire body tensing so much the shift in demeanor was visible even with the several feet between us. Both of her hands pressed down on the blankets, forcing them against her groin. She bit down on her lip and looked straight at me; or rather, she looked straight through me.
She was no longer concerned or even curious about my peeing with the door open. She was completely preoccupied with matters of her own. She sat completely still for a moment, most likely afraid to move from the spot. She looked as though she was solving some sort of complex puzzle in her head.
Without warning, she tore the blanket off and threw it to the side. Both of her hands were pressed down on the panties as she practically launched off the bed and waddled to the bathroom door. Her stance was all too recognizable.
She arrived at the bathroom door and looked at me, not at all shy about the situation.
“Please!” She begged, almost in tears. “Hurry, Leo!”
“I… I can’t. I mean, I’m trying… I just can’t go any faster!”
“Ohhhh!” She cried. “I’ve gotta go so bad!”
“T-there’s another bathroom downstairs if you can’t hold it.”
She shook her head at me wildly. “I can’t make it that far!” Tears were filling her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Ally… I… I can’t stop.”
“Ohhh!” She cried out again. “It hurts, Leo!”
I didn’t know what to say or what to do. I loved seeing her desperate to go, but something about this felt oddly different. She looked like she was in legitimate pain. I wanted nothing more than to move away from the toilet and let her go, but I couldn’t just start peeing on the floor…
I did a quick up and down of her body. I felt a bit guilty about it, but she was playing on all my fetishes. It was impossible not to find the events going on in front of me at least somewhat arousing.
She was wearing the same leopard-print panties from the night before, no doubt with a bit of her juices dried up on the bottom. She had never gotten around to putting the bra back on, so her breasts were hanging out on display -- as was the norm.
We walked around naked all the time, and with her nipples covered by her fur, I couldn’t see anything normally regarded as sexual; however, there was still something very tantalizing about the sight for me. Seeing the panties made me aware that her chest was bare, and somehow, her lower parts being covered made that entirely more erotic. It was the same the night before, when she had slipped her bra off. I could tell by the steady, lingering way she had done it that she had felt it too; she had felt that familiar sense of unexplainable sexuality.
“Leo!” She whined. “Please! I can’t hold it anymore!” She wasn’t dancing around like she normally did. No, she was just pressing down tightly on her groin, as if she desperately needed to conserve movement, like the subtlest shift in weight would lead to an accident.
“Ally, I’m sorry… I’m almost done, I think.”
“Fuck… Leo…” Her voice faded off and she started to softly cry. It felt wrong to stare at her, but I couldn’t look away. I felt a disgusting sense of arousal flowing through me. I felt demented fascination with her pain.
“Crap, crap, crap!” She wasn’t standing still anymore. She was squirming in a compulsive and unpredictable way. It was an odd thing to watch. Her movements in combination with her strained face and teary eyes created a pitiful figure.
“Leo, please! I’m ga-“Before she could finish, she cut herself off with a quick, almost sexual sounding yelp. Her eyes and mouth were wide with terror. She took a single, fervent step forward before standing completely still. She wasn’t looking at me, nor at anything else tangible. It seemed like she was looking straight through my walls, gawking at some unperceivable apparition that threatened her; yet, was simultaneously handing her abstract salvation.
“Ally, are you…?” The words faded away to nothingness, along with my voice. There was no point in finishing the question. There was urine running down both of her legs. She was peeing herself.
“I’m sorry…” I mumbled. She didn’t answer. She just stood there in a daze, reliving herself, all control forfeited to a superior force. I saw both her eyes close tightly as she tried to wake up from this nightmare. Urine was dripping through her fingers and beginning to form a small puddle at her feet. I saw her toes curl-up like snails being prodded.
Her eyes crept back open and she looked down. She removed her hands from atop her soaked panties, realizing that no amount of force was going to stop this downpour – as if it mattered much at this point, anyway. She watched, almost amazed, as the yellow-tinted liquid poured downward, a little going straight down, splattering on my floor; but most of it taking the longer, more sexual route: running down her legs, soaking her fur in the process.
The moment her hands left her crotch, I felt indiscernible emotion flow through me. It was the first time I had ever seen her urinate in an article of clothing before; it was something I had waited months for… Yet, I didn’t know if I was truly enjoying it or not.
Imagine going to a restaurant and ordering a dish you had waited the longest time for, only to have it ruined by a side that you absolutely detest…. But you don’t detest it. Society detests it. Society tells you to detest. Society tells you morality detests it. If you enjoy it, you’re nothing more than a cannibal…
“Shit!” She suddenly exclaimed.
... Maybe I am a cannibal, then.
She ran to the sink, urine still traveling down her legs, spraying onto the floor.
Maybe I’m sick and wrong.
She lifted herself up and plopped down on the counter, urine gushing from the soaked gusset of the panties. It only took an instant for it to start dripping off the edge and down the sides of the cabinet below.
But I can’t change myself.
She pushed herself back, her butt now hovering above the sink, her womanhood just over the edge, a waterfall of urine silently falling from the panties and draining in the sink.
This is who I am. Society will just have to accept that.
The way she woke up and grabbed herself; the way she waddled to the bathroom; the way she begged me with her most desperate and sweet tone to hurry; the way she shamelessly held herself and dealt with the pain; the way she broke down and started crying; the way she squirmed in the most awkward and embarrassing way imaginable; the way she paused and stared, like a cat caught in headlights, when her accident began; and the way her body fit perfectly into those dripping leopard-print panties… I love it all!
I stared at her bottom, a wet mark traveling up her butt as she continued to relieve herself. At that point, my own urine had crawled to a stop; though, I couldn’t tell if my bladder was empty or if my erection blocked anymore from coming out. I felt a bit bad about not being able to offer her the toilet, but if she had tried to get up, she would have just started peeing on the floor again.
I saw her stream beginning to come to an end. It was almost unfortunate that majority of the urine ended up on the ground or dripping down my counter’s side. Honestly, it probably would have been better if she had just stood there and not even tried for the sink; though, I could appreciate the attempt.
Unexpectedly, she looked over at me, tears still in her eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“Ally… don’t worry about it. It happens. Especially when there is someone stuck using the toilet for an hour…”
“Yeah, I know. It’s just…” *sniff* “I kinda… peed all over your bathroom.”
“Heh, don’t worry, I don’t mind. I’ll clean it up.”
She chuckled. “You don’t exactly look like you mind.”
“Oh, uh, about that…” Obviously, my erection was impossible to hide. Though, I was glad she didn’t take offense to it.
“Its fine, Leo… You know, if you were anyone else, I would be sobbing right now?”
“… You would? How come? I mean, why am I so special?”
“Take a guess…”
“... Is it because it turns me on?” I asked dryly.
“Yep.”
“Well, I’m glad my kink can be of some use…”
“It’s actually very useful.” She slid down from the counter.
“Oh? How so?” I couldn’t help but stare at the panties as I waited for her answer. They were drenched. And, I don’t think I need to explain what happens when white fabric is dampened…
“Well, I never have to worry about having an accident or leaking around you…”
“Huh. You seemed pretty worried a few moments ago.”
“Yes, but I was caught off guard… Plus, it’s still embarrassing! Nobody wants to be seen having an accident, even alone…” *sniff*
“So, you still mind, just a little less?”
“Yes, that sums it up… I guess that probably doesn’t seem like it means much, but to me it is a big deal.” *sniff* “After all, you’ve probably figured out I don’t exactly have the biggest bladder. I’ve only had one accident – well, two, actually – if you don’t count this one, but I’ve come close a lot and I’ve had my fair share of… moments.”
“Moments?”
“Yeah, you know, leaks and stuff… I’ve told you about some.”
“Ahh… Yes, I love those stories.”
“Hmm,” she giggles, “I guess I’ll have to tell you some more one of these days.”
“Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah, I’m feeling better… I’m sorry about crying and stuff. It was just… a lot to take so early in the morning.”
“Heh, not a morning person?”
“Not when my bladder is about to explode…”
“Sounds pretty reasonable… And, uh, if it’s any consolidation, I had to go pretty bad this morning, too.”
“Yeah, I was wondering about that. Part of me thought peeing extremely slow into the toilet was some lame trick to make me have an accident… It worked, by the way.”
We both laughed.
“No, no, nothing like that… I’m not entirely sure what happened there. I just woke up and had to pee horribly bad – worse than you. I started going before I even got to the toilet…” It was odd. Only moments ago I had found the idea of telling her what happened incomprehensibly embarrassing; yet, suddenly, I had this weird compulsion to it. The thought excited me. I wanted her to know.
She looked down at my crotch, scanning for wetness. (Of course, my erection was a little difficult for her to look away from, so she had glanced down there quite a few times already.)
“Sure enough…” She giggled. “You have a little wet spot on your fur.”
“Yeah, yeah… Laugh it up.”
“Oh, don’t be silly, Leo. I wouldn’t laugh at you. You don’t laugh at me when I pee myself.” She frowned.
“And what was that giggle just a second ago, eh?”
“I was laughing with you.”
We both shared another laugh.
“So, yeah, if we ever… You know, mess around again.” I started. “Please remind me to pee before going to sleep, so that doesn’t happen again.”
“Heh, excuses, excuses…”
“Hey! At least I have an excuse. You just couldn’t hold it.”
“Much to your delight…”
“Yes, maybe.”
“Also, I don’t know how “to your delight” this will be, but I, uh, may have wet your bed a little.”
“…Huh?”
“You saw me when I was sitting there, right? Like, I suddenly had to go really bad. I can’t even describe it. It hit me like a freight train… And I, uh, may have lost a little before I got up.”
“Oh, that’s… painfully hot.”
“Heh, well, I’m glad you’re glad.”
“And I’m glad you’re glad I’m glad…” My voice trailed along with the corny joke. “How much was it? Do I need to change my sheets?”
“Eh, I didn’t really see. I was kinda in a hurry… But I don’t think it was too bad.”
“Hmm, alright. I doubt it was too bad. You only leaked, right?”
“Uh huh. I was just worried a little got on the sheets. I really don’t think it was a lot…” |
I appreciate the kind words! And I'm truly flattered, Alexx.
Here it is! The second part to Chapter 7:
“So,” Ally began, giving an embarrassed chuckle before continuing. “You’re not gonna believe this but…”
“…This outta be good.”
“I’ve still gotta pee a little.”
“You’ve still gotta pee a little?” I repeated, incredulous. “We’re practically standing in a river here.”
“I know. I guess I kinda got tired of sitting there and stopped early. And you mean we’re standing in a pond.”
“You stopped early…?”
“No! I mean… Yes, but it’s like, I was just sorta pushing it out, and I was tired of doing that so I stopped… and I already have to go again.”
“Oh, I see.”
There was a moment of silence.
“Uh, Leo?”
“Huh?”
“You’re kinda standing in front of the toilet…”
“Oh, uh, sorry.”
I moved out of the way and let her get by. Part of me expected her to ask me to leave, but she didn’t bother. She simply sat straight down on the toilet, pretending nothing was out of the ordinary.
“You’re not… pulling the panties down?”
She didn’t respond. My answer was that tell-tale sound of water splattering. She spread her legs and closed her eyes. I was surprised she had enough urine left in her bladder to even make a stream; though, it didn’t last long. I saw the small waterfall slip through the cloth of the sodden panties, before quickly dissipating to a trickle.
Though, the urine – unexpectedly – was not the most erotic act in her little performance. As I said before, the gusset of the panties was completely white, completely drenched, and completely transparent. With her legs spread wide before me, I could see her groin through the conveniently tight and almost pitifully thin cotton.
Normally, all I would be seeing was fur guarding a very intimate place, which wouldn’t rival the sexuality of her peeing; however, her movements combined with the wetness from her accident left the fur bunched up and slightly disheveled. I could see past it… Peeking through the fabric was the outline of her womanhood, still moist and dripping.
Did she know? Should I tell her? I had never seen her vagina before, and I figured if she wanted me to see it, she would show me... For all I knew, she had forgotten the fabric was see-thru, let alone that I had somehow managed a way to look at her privates.
But I touched it… The night before I had fingered her; she even took it upon herself to thank me for it. That had to mean we were at that level, right?
“Um, Ally?”
“Yes, Leo?”
“I can… uh, see your privates.”
Compulsively, her legs snapped shut and her cheeks burned with embarrassment.
“Oh, crap. The panties are… see-thru… aren’t they?”
“Heh, yeah…” I gave her an awkward smile. “But, uh, you know, I kinda touched you there last night… I don’t think seeing it is that big of a deal.”
She looked down at her lap, still a little self-conscious.
I didn’t really understand Alyssa sometimes. I understood the way she felt, I just didn’t understand why she felt that way. To still be nervous about something so trivial, after we had done so much…
I think most people would have felt annoyed at something like that. Maybe even insulted. But I didn’t. I loved that innocent aura of hers. That modest, shy vibe she always seemed to give off. Seeing her sitting on that toilet, looking down at her lap like an apprehensive child… It really spoke to that cannibal part of me.
“Hold on for a second…”
I quickly got out a generous amount towels from below the sink and crudely wiped up the urine. I washed my hands and took my place back in front of her. All in all, it was a quick process that didn’t take more than a minute – which is impressive given how much urine there was.
“Ally, come on.” I extended my hand to her.
“Huh?”
“Come on.” I repeated with an encouraging tone.
She took hold of my hand, looking curiously at me, not sure where I was going with the gesture.
I stood her up and looked in her eyes. I knelt down and gave her a soft kiss on the lips, lingering for a few seconds, but not too long. She was caught a bit off guard, but she was even more surprised when I fell to my knees.
“Leo, what are doing…?”
“Shhh, don’t worry.” I kissed her on the tummy. She swallowed, still not sure what was happening. I brought both hands up to her hips and slid my finger beneath the hem of the panties.
“Leo…?”
I slid them down, just a few inches. I stopped and waited. I wanted her to have a chance to stop me if things got too uncomfortable. She didn’t interfere; although, I could tell by the stiffness of her body she was getting extremely nervous. I had to be careful how I did this. If I was too inconsiderate or abrupt I could end up scaring her and ruining the entire gesture.
I kept sliding the panties down, and eventually, I crossed that pivotal spot between her legs. I was about eye level with her stomach, so I couldn’t see anything except her fur, but it was still a very intimate moment for us both. I let the panties fall to her feet.
Before standing, I noticed something interesting. She was beginning to breathe heavier… I wondered, was this turning her on? That wasn’t initially my intention, but it would be a rather convenient addition.
“Alright,” I stood up and looked in her wide, confused eyes. “We won’t be needing those where we’re going…”
“Leo…“ She paused for a moment. “Are you going to kill me?”
“… What?”
“Are you planning to secretly murder me? I don’t know, you sound like you’re gonna kill me.”
“Oh wow, really, Ally? Way to kill the moment.”
“Well, don’t blame me… Here you are undressing me saying weird things like ‘you won’t be needing those.’” She did a generic imitation of my voice.
So much for turning her on…
“Alright, well, this next part will change your mind….”
“Let me guess, you hit me with a mallet?” She laughed.
“God, Ally, why so morbid? This is outta nowhere…” And to think I was worried about being a cannibal. “Bah! Don’t even answer. Words don’t matter… “ I pushed the shower curtain to the side and stepped inside the tub. I extended my hand to her. “Alright, come on in.”
“Wait-a-minute…”
“Don’t worry, just come in…”
“Leo,” She takes my hand. “Did you want… to shower together?”
“Well, we both have pee on us and we’re both gonna have to shower at some point… I don’t see why we don’t just do it together.”
“I… I don’t know if I can…” Her voice trailed off. I was worried she would say that, but I was also prepared.
“Ally,” I took on a serious tone and grabbed both of her shoulders gently, making her face me. She looked up at me timidly. “I love you, okay? I just want us to be comfortable with each other’s bodies…”
She swallowed. “… I love you too, Leo.”
“I know that you aren’t ready for sex. It’s hard for me to accept that, but I do it, for you. But it isn’t fair for us to deny ourselves other pleasures. Yes, ‘ourselves.’ Maybe I’m wrong to make this assumption, but… You want this too, don’t you? Maybe not as much as me…” My voice trailed off, along with my awkward attempt at humor. “… But, you do want this, don’t you?”
She thought for a moment.
“… Yes, Leo.” It may have taken her a second to respond, but I could tell she was determined.
“I’m glad, Ally.” I turned around and turned on the water. I messed with the handles until I found a fair, slightly warm, mixture. “You ready?”
“Uh huh.”
“Are you nervous?”
Her glowing cheeks betrayed her. “Maybe a little…”
“Don’t worry, I am too.” I chuckled and placed my hand on the middle shower handle. I turned it and water shot out of the nozzle, landing directly on my back. I quickly got out of the way and repositioned myself next to Ally. “Heh, I kinda forgot I had it aimed straight down…”
She laughed.
“Wait-a-minute…” She said suspiciously. (I loved when she said that. I always found it so cute.) “Then where was it supposed to go if it wasn’t on your back…?”
“Oh… Nowhere in specific…”
“Liar! It was supposed to hit me in the chest!”
“Heh… No comment.”
“First he tries to kill me, and now he’s trying to get a peek at my chest!” She feigned offense and crossed her arms over her breasts.
“Well, we’re both gonna be completely… visible, in a moment here…”
Something about my words caused us both to suddenly stop talking. Maybe it was the truth behind them that did it… Regardless, we were left standing there, cheeks burning, both of us waiting for the other to say something.
“I guess I’ll, uh… go first.” I swallowed.
It was funny. I knew she had seen every part of me before, but now, in this tense moment, it felt so much more real. So much more embarrassing. But I had to do it, I had to stand under the falling water and let her see me for who I was really was on the outside.
I approached it apprehensively… I swallowed hard and walked under it. I let the water hit me on the chest and run down my body, weighing down all my fur along with it. I looked down and saw that my chest and groin area were both very visible at this point… Though, with my --now throbbing-- erection, it had already been pretty visible.
“You almost done, Leo?”
“I, uh, yeah. I’m just a little nervous.”
“Well, I’ve already seen your penis countless times. I’m not really seeing much more.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.”
“And uh, I can already see your butt because the water kinda got you before…”
“Oh, you can?”
“Yeah…”
“I… was not aware of that.” I felt my cheeks flushing even harder.
“It’s a… nice butt, at least.”
“Heh, thanks, Ally.” I turned around and let her see my front without another word. She looked at me, hands folded in front of her, already just as nervous as me. I could tell she was afraid of what was coming, even more afraid than I was.
“You look… very nice, Leo.” She gave me a shy smile. The dangerous amount of cuteness she gave off with that simple look brought physical pain to my erection. And, of slight worry to me, I could feel my testicles beginning to ache as well…
“Thanks… I appreciate it.”
A brief silence passed.
“Well, I… guess it is my turn then, huh?” She gave a nervous giggle. She looked at the shower nozzle, less than confident, to say the least.
“Look, Ally, if you don’t want to do this…”
“No, no, I want to do this, Leo. I’m just… a little nervous. That’s all. I want to do this, for both of us.”
“Okay, I understand.”
Another brief silence passed before she took a deep breath and a step forward. I remember stealing one more glance at the soaked fur running down her legs. I thought about all that had happened that morning… About her desperation and subsequent accident, about her transparent underwear, and even about that devilish way she accused me of planning to murder her…
I wished there was something I could say or feel that was more poignant than love; yet, it seemed there was no word in existence that could describe it. I wondered if maybe that thing I felt then truly was love, and all other feelings were mere imitations. Maybe “love” has been so overused that its true intensity has been lost to the bulk of man; maybe only a select few really know what love means.
I wanted to say it to her once more before she took the final step, but I was too late. Warm water was already flowing down her gorgeous chest, soaking her bare legs, and destroying all signs of her prior accident. Her fur became heavy and matted down. There was water dripping from all points on her body, even a bit coming down from her groin.
And while that first step under the water was over with, I still desired to say it. Every time those words left my mouth it made me feel like… I was floating on air. There was a constant desire within me, a constant passion which cried for more; and saying those words, it helped relieve it.
“I love you.”
She turned her head and smiled. “I love you too.”
I didn’t return the smile. Instead, I walked up and joined her under the water. I hugged her from behind. My arms slid upward, supporting her breasts as I lightly nibbled on her neck. She was a bit flustered; after all, she had yet to even turn around to show me her body, but she didn’t fight the sudden burst of sensuality.
“I truly, truly love you, Ally. I love you so much it hurts. You are the most perfect person I’ve ever met…” It wasn’t easy to say, but I meant each word with an intensity I could hardly comprehend. I knew how corny they must have sounded; I just hoped, in light of the romanticism, she could look past that and find them at least half as meaningful as I did.
A brief silence.
“I love you too.” Her voice was cracking. I could tell she was trying not to cry.
“Heh, you’re too emotional, you know that?”
“Yeah,” she answered with a low voice. She was still fighting off tears. “And you’re too…” She laughed. “I don’t know what you are, but for some reason you keep making me cry.”
I didn’t have anything more to say, so instead of talking, I gently squeezed her breast with a free hand. I let the other slide down her tummy, going past her hips and between her thighs. I didn’t go far, though. Before touching anything vital, I slid back up, and then repeated the process, getting millimeters closer each time, thoroughly teasing her.
I felt her body beginning to lean backward, using mine as support. I could feel her warmth being absorbed into my skin as we melded together. My erection was rubbing against her still dry butt, leaving me feeling rather tortured and blessed at the same time. She was giving herself up to me, letting me handle her body, letting me pleasure her however I saw fit.
I pulled her out of the water and walked her to the other side of the tub. I placed her against the wall and started to kiss her, letting my hands wonder freely. One was groping a breast while the other rubbed her thighs, occasionally passing over her feminine area like a star passing over the night sky.
She was having trouble keeping up the kiss. Her body was rigid with arousal and I could feel warmth emanating off her burning genitals. She wanted me just as bad I wanted her.
She slipped out of the kiss. “Leo…”
“Yeah?”
“I’m on the pill.”
I stopped and stared at her, somewhat confused.
“The pill…?”
“Yes, birth control.”
“But why? I thought you weren’t ready for sex.”
“Because the longer I spend around you the less sure I am of what’s going to happen...”
I didn’t know what to say…
“I’m…really nervous. I know I love you and that if I was gonna lose my virginity to anyone, it would be you, but I ‘m still really scared…”
I kept silent and listened to her.
“But this shower has got me thinking… Being nervous doesn’t mean I’m not ready. There may never be a time where I’m completely comfortable, and I really don’t want that to mean I never… get to experience that.”
She paused a moment.
“Honestly, I think I prefer it like this – nervous, I mean. It wouldn’t be any fun if I wasn’t… a little worried about it. Ugh, I’m sorry if that doesn’t make any sense; this is hard to explain…"
“Ally,” I stopped her. “Are you ready for sex?”
She paused and looked at me. It was another one of those expressions… One of those timid, puppy dog looks that she wore so well. She was handing herself over to me. Giving me the keys to the Lamborghini.
“I’m ready, Leo…” Her voice was so soft and airy; it was almost as if she had sung the response.
I could feel my heart pounding. I couldn’t stop looking in her eyes, and the longer I looked, the more self-conscious I felt. All this time had passed, with many wishes in the wake; yet, not at one point in that time did I realize just how nervous I was. I thought about how difficult it would be for her. But there I was, not able to move, not sure of what to do next.
“Leo…?” She was worried. I had to do something before I scared her too bad. I had to take the lead again.
“I…” I thought for a moment. “…Turn around, Ally.”
“Hmm?” She cooed curiously.
I helped spin her around with my hands before taking a few steps back.
“Alright, I want you to bend over. Try and get comfortable.”
“Leo… What are you doing?” She sounded apprehensive, but she complied.
“Don’t worry, Ally, I promise I’ll be gentle, okay?”
“But… d-do we have to do it like this? In this… position?”
“It’s the only way in the shower… I’m too tall for us to do it standing and we can’t really lie down…”
There was another brief moment of silence.
“We could always go do it on the bed if you’re uncomfortable like this…” I suggested the idea tentatively, knowing that getting dried off and heading into the bedroom would do a better job of killing the mood than resorting to doggy style for our first time…
“…No. I want to do it here… This isn’t how I pictured it, but it doesn’t matter.”
How she pictured it?
“All that matters is that it is with you, Leo.”
There was another brief silence. I went forward and lightly placed my hands on her wide hips, gently caressing her, being sure not to go too far in any direction. I wanted to arouse her, but I was also trying to soothe her. I could tell she was extremely nervous; the uncertainty was painted on her face.
I draped her tail over my shoulder and took my own member in hand. My heart was beginning to pound harder and I could feel myself heating up. I stared down at her exposed groin, almost afraid to look at it. It was like a fragile piece of glass: If I touched it wrong. If I penetrated her wrong. If I even breathed wrong… That would be it.
I took in a deep, shaking breath and moved a little closer. Staring into the fragile piece of glass I felt more aroused than I ever had. I was erect to the point of pain, and that wasn’t even considering the growing discomfort in my testicles.
“Leo…?”
“Y-yes?”
“Could you… maybe not go in yet?”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“It’s just, it‘ll hurt if you… don’t warm me up first.”
I could tell the words were hard for her to say. The moment was already so tense, and those words were so revealing.
“Ah… I understand.” I let my member go, almost happy I had a bit more time to adjust. I stood her up straight and had her face me. We kissed each other sensually; though, I felt an odd sense of relief in the kiss. Not just from me, but from her.
I wondered: did she really want this? Did I really want it? We were standing in a bathtub, one of us bent over and the other shaking like a leaf… It was almost pitiful. Was this how I wanted to lose my virginity? Did I want to look back on this years from now and ask myself: Leo, were you ready?
And what about Ally? She said she was ready, but so did I, and I was beginning to have second thoughts… Who was to say she wasn’t too? She even said it wasn’t what she had pictured. Being bent over in a bathtub… I don’t blame her!
What an awful way for a person to lose something so special to them. What an awful way for a fantasy to be crushed. I had heard many people talk about how losing your virginity was never that special. How it was never like the movies, the books, or your fantasies. But that manner of speaking, it is a virus.
People spread germs of thought, teaching the world pessimistic ways of thinking. People infect other people with hopelessness and defeatism. One person had a bad experience, a person with a unique circumstance and a unique mindset. This person told another person, and that person told another, and so on. Each of those people was like me: they were standing in a bathtub with the person they loved more than anything in this world, the one individual whom they could never stand to give second best to. They had to make a choice, and like me, they thought about stopping, about waiting for that perfect moment; but they didn’t. They heard those words in their head; they heard the complaints of a denied mass. And they gave up. Accepted life to be less than it is.
It is easier that way. To accept life to be something less than it is, or rather, to accept it to be something less than it can be.
“Ally,” I broke our kiss and looked into those her eyes. They had never seemed greener to me.
“Hmm?”
“I don’t think I want to do this yet.”
“… What do you mean?” She didn’t look concerned or confused. In fact, her expression didn’t change at all. It seemed feverish and complacent.
“It just doesn’t feel right… At least like this, right now. I hope you’re not disappointed; I just, I want to wait a little longer. I want to wait for a better moment. I know we’ll have plenty of moments like this together, just, they’ll hopefully be a little more… conventional?”
She gave me a soft smile and her eyes opened slightly wider, making her seem more awake.
“Okay, Leo. I think I would like to wait it a little longer too.” |
Now for the climax (excuse the pun)...
*****
Until this time Natalya had tried and succeeded to conceal her desperation. Now that was no longer possible. Hopping from one foot to the other bent over at 20 degrees with one hand rammed into her crotch, even the most unobservant pervert would know that she was in dire need of a bathroom. She looked at her watch. There were still 45 minutes left until relief. She could not hold it that long...
"Vitali," she said, in a faint whimper, "I don't think I can hold it."
"You mean...you're going to pee yourself?"
Her bladder spasmed. She bent over and squealed.
"Yes..." Her voice was quavering and her eyes began to cloud with tears. She was an adult woman. How could she be in this situation? How could she be minutes from utter humiliation in front of the man she loved? How could Vasily be so cruel?
"I'll cover you while you go."
"I'll go behind this hut. Watch out for Vasily."
Natalya waddled behind the hut, loosened her belt and began to lower her trousers.
"Natalya! Who gave you permission to leave your post?"
Natalya pulled up her trousers and let out a squeal of shock. As she settled again she realised that the squeal was not all she had let out. Her underwear was warm and damp. For the first time in her life, she had wet herself. Despite this leak she still felt more desperate than ever before. Thankfully her trousers were still dry. Vasily did not know that her bladder had failed her, and neither did Vitali...who was standing beside Vasily.
"Vitali was still watching..."
"Vitali doesn't have eyes in the back of his head! We need people looking both ways!"
"I'm desperate for the bathroom. I was only going to take a few minutes..."
"If you're desperate for the bathroom, you go at your post. As a man, that means undoing your flies and wetting on the floor. As a woman, that means going in your trousers. If you don't like that idea, I'm sure I could get you some diapers. Maybe Vitali could change you, and give you a spanking while he's at it."
Vitali could not just stand there speechless. This bastard was not going to humiliate Natalya. "Stop it, Vasily. Corporal Chuikov always let us go."
"In case you haven't noticed, I'm not Corporal Chuikov. And that's stop it, Corporal." Vasily smacked Vitali across the face with the back of his hand. Deep in the recesses of Vitali's mind, the conflagrant aggression he had hidden all his life was stirring. His mighty muscles tensed for action. He was still barely in control of himself. So, so barely.
Meanwhile Natalya was about to lose control of herself, but in a very different way. Her damp underwear mocked her feminine body. If she was Vitali she could have avoided this. If she was a man she could have avoided this...at least no one knew. As that thought passed through her her bladder, unaware of the circumstances, contracted again with hereto unseen force. She bent over almost to a right angle and whimpered. Beside the agonising crush of her bladder she felt warmth growing in her groin. She urinated for about a second before regaining control. She surveyed the damage to her trousers. Her thick underwear had saved her from visible humiliation again, but it was saturated to its limit. She could not wet herself in front of the man she loved most and the man she hated most. She had to run. Without thinking she sprinted away from the hut. Vasily smirked and started after her. No matter what your position is on gender equality, there is no doubting that in equal circumstances a man will outrun a woman, and these were not equal circumstances. Vasily's legs were much longer than Natalya's and he was not trying to hold in a litre of urine. After a few metres Vasily grabbed Natalya round the abdomen and stopped her instantly. He jerked her back against his body. She felt a hard object poking into her back. For once in her life she hoped it was a gun. She was wrong.
Vasily watched in bitter ecstasy as the litre of urine Natalya had been battling for hours soaked through her trousers and into his. The dark patch grew down the inside of her legs and entered her boots, which began to fill with pee. Vasily stroked Natalya's agonised crotch as it poured out more urine than he had passed in a day. Natalya's attention was on her crotch, but she was not concerned about her complete failure to control her own body. She was concerned about Vasily's dextrous hand rubbing her in a way that made her feel terrified but also strangely pleased. As a virgin who had never even masturbated she had little experience of sexual arousal. The only experience she could compare it to was one time when she was riding in a truck with a heavy diesel engine and her genitals began to feel strange. That was no comparison to this. She had to fight back. Using her elbow she jabbed into Vasily's solid abdominals. Most men would have keeled over and wheezed, but Vasily felt nothing. He tightened his left arm around Natalya's neck, drove his knee into her groin and struck her in the back with his right arm. Her body folded over and crumpled to the ground. (This is a genuine takedown as practised by ninjas. Don't try it at home.) Placing his left boot on Natalya's chest, Vasily opened his flies to reveal an erection that went past the "this is going to feel nice" stage to the "holy shit it's going to rip my vagina" stage (that comes from my wife, by the way. Mine is in the "this is going to feel nice" area. It's odd, considering she's only slept with one man in her entire life). Natalya felt nothing but dread and terror. She was going to lose her virginity - her precious virginity, which she was saving for that special man - to this monster. She screamed in despair. Vasily shoved his boot in her mouth.
"Be glad it's only a boot."
Then she passed out.
I'm leaving it on a cliffhanger. I'm a complete bastard. Tomorrow I'll finish it off.
Edited May 19, 2012 by IForgotMyPassword
(see edit history) |
My first ever story! Let me know what you think. Please, do give constructive criticism! I'm no writer, but I'd like to know what I could do better.
********************
Kelly let out a sigh of relief as watched her parents drive off down the hill. Finally, after 18 years of abiding by curfews, doing chores, not being allowed on dates, spending every hour under her parents' watchful eyes, finally -- she was a college freshman.
It's not that she didn't love her parents, she thought as she climbed the stairs back to her dorm room. She was just ecstatic to be free, able to do her own things on her own timetable, with nobody to tell her no. Eat what she wanted to eat, go to bed when she wanted to go to bed. Pee when she wanted to pee. For several years, Kelly had known the pleasure that came from a full bladder, but could never find the opportunity to experiment with it the way she wanted to while living at home. Now, of course, that was all about to change.
She eagerly bounced into her room and locked the door behind her, noting with growing anticipation the tightness that was already coming from her bladder. It wasn't much, yet, she hadn't wanted to risk getting too far along too quickly, but she had been so excited for this day for so long she couldn't resist starting to fill up even before they'd arrived at the college. It would be at least a half hour or so before she was full enough to even enjoy it. But, plenty to do before then.
Kelly was lucky enough to have a single, all to herself. From what she could see during her short time here, most of the other freshman were in double-occupancy rooms. That, of course, would have made life difficult. She grinned and got out her water bottle.
She hadn't even started unpacking yet, she and her parents had just dropped her things off in the room before they left to say their good-byes. She picked a suitcase at random and got started. Books, sheets, skirts, her computer, more books, notebooks, clothes, more clothes. With a smile she found her favorite basketball shorts -- red and black. Her eyes went wisty as she recalled the day at school she first realized how much of a turn-on a full bladder was, even if it meant wetting herself in front of her friends. She'd treasured these shorts ever since then, and the few times she'd managed to do any holding at home, it had always been in these shorts. She quickly took her jeans off and slipped her favorite shorts on.
It wasn't until Kelly was hanging her posters up that she realized how much time had passed. She was standing on her chair, reaching up to the ceiling trying to get her poster as high as it would go that the extra pressure from up high caused a sudden spasm in her abdomen. Kelly yelped softly and dropped the poster, pressing her hands to her crotch. A moment later she regained control -- she was still perfectly capable of holding it, she just needed to not surprise herself like that again. The posters could wait.
Kelly grabbed her bottle of water again and downed the remainder. Her mind started racing with anticipation as the reality of the situation sunk in a bit deeper. Finally, she was actually going to be able to wet herself, alone, all alone to enjoy it. The electriflying feeling from her womanhood, that moment when she couldn't hang on any longer and the warmness that started flowing...
Kelly snapped out of her daydream and realized she was standing partly bent over with her legs tightly crossed. Maybe she was closer to her fantasy than she had realized. She quickly grabbed a towel and spread it out in the corner. She guzzled half another water bottle, too, just for good measure.
Kelly's favorite part about holding her pee had always been that moment when, despite her best efforts, she simply couldn't stop the flow any longer. When a spurt, then two spurts, then three wormed their way out of her. That being the case, she never liked holding herself. That only delayed the loss of control. She was standing on top of the towel now, still bent partway over, legs still crossed. Kelly took a deep breath, readying herself for the bliss that was sure to follow, and in one slow, deliberate motion, stood up straight and uncrossed her legs.
Kelly had to stuff her hand over her mouth to stifle the her squeal. The effect on her bladder was immediate and jarring. She thought she might have even lost a drop or two into her panties. Kelly squeezed her thighs together as hard as she possibly could. Beginning to be overcome by lust now, she started rubbing her breasts, scissoring her legs back and forth. Head back, she gasped, and felt a spurt escape her into her basketball shorts.
In a state of complete ecstacy now, Kelly moved her hands to her bladder and started massaging ever so gently. The sensations in her bladder were almost unlike anything she had ever felt before, and as a second spurt of pee, longer than the first, rushed out of her bladder she instictively shoved her hands into her crotch to stem the tide once more. Knowing she had only seconds before a total loss of control, Kelly moved one hand to her bladder and pushed hard, and kept one hand on her crotch trying with all her might to hold her pee just a moment longer.
A third and final spurt erupted from Kelly's crotch, and she thought she might pass out from the bliss that overwhelmed her. The sensation of still trying to fight back, even though the battle had been lost, still trying to squeeze her tired muscles together, even though the steady gush of pee couldn't possibly be stopped now, was simply orgasmic. Kelly came immediately, as if an electric shock throughout her whole body, and sank to her knees, unable to continue standing. It was the most powerful orgasm she'd ever had, and in some distant, rational corner of her mind Kelly was surprised at how long it lasted -- easily several seconds longer that anything she'd previously experienced.
As her pee flow died down and everything subsided, Kelly made a promise to herself. She was going to do this way more often than she'd previously thought.
Edited May 14, 2012 by lurkerabove
(see edit history) |
Chapter 2, by popular request! I'm surprised, writing was never my thing. I guess I just had to write about something I loved :D
Kelly set out across campus, eager for her first day of classes. Despite all the fun she'd had the previous day, Kelly was looking forward, albeit rather nervously, to meeting her professors, starting her classes, and making new friends.
Kelly blushed a little at the thought of the previous night. She had skipped out on some of the orientation events that had been going on, including an ice cream social on the main green. She'd really wanted to go, meet some new people, but, well, after her first wetting, she just HAD to do it again, and then again... Kelly wondered vaguely how many bottles of water she'd drunk last night.
As she arrived at her first class, she realized she had a slight urge to pee. She debated ignoring it and heading into her class, but she was early, and she wasn't really interested in having to hold her crotch in public. No, this was something she did by herself, alone. Plus, she really wanted to be able to focus on the professor.
She returned just before the class began, and the next few hours were a whirl of introductions, syllabi, lists of textbooks, a quick lunch, and then the same thing all over again. Kelly was pleased that all her professors seemed quite nice, the classes seemed to just easy enough she wouldn't be overworked, but just hard enough she wouldn't be bored, and best of all she had a few minutes to flirt with a cute guy in her American Government class, Michael. Her parents had never allowed her to date in high school, and while Kelly managed to skirt their rules occasionally, they obviously made it difficult for any even remotely serious relationships to bloom. Here at college, however...
As Kelly arrived at her last class of the day, Introductory Calculus, she had an idea. She was quite close to her dorm building, in fact she could see it out the window. Why not have something to drink, and get back to her room with a full bladder? Grinning, Kelly made a detour to the water fountain and took several long sips. She got her water bottle out, too, and filled it up, and just before she left she took one more long gulp for good measure.
Kelly sat down in class as the professor began passing out the syllabus. she glanced through it, noting the copious amount of homework she was being assigned. It seemed this professor was not going to go easy on the class.
As she took notes on the first lecture, Kelly absently sipped from her full water bottle, noting a twinge from her bladder. Nothing serious, she thought. Not enough enough to interrupt her concentration for more than a moment.
The professor droned on, and just halfway into the 90-minute lecture, Kelly's pen died. She reached down into her bag for a new one and immediately registered a loud protest from her bladder. Damn, Kelly thought. This might be a problem. She remembered that she'd last peed right before lunch, which was only a couple hours ago. Then again, she'd had a large coke with her lunch too, and... all that water. She glanced at her water bottle and was surprised to notice that it was nearly empty.
It wasn't THAT bad, Kelly reasoned, as she tried to focus on the professor once more. She'd done this how many times last night? She felt like she had a pretty good idea of how long she could last before she reached breaking point, and while it might be close, she thought, she didn't think she'd have much of a problem.
Kelly started copying down a formula on the board when all of a sudden, without warning, she felt a tiny bit of pee spurt into her panties. It was only a few drops, probably barely enough to even show on her panties, but since Kelly wasn't expecting it, her reaction was rather pronounced. Instincively she let out an audible gasp, and jammed her hands into her crotch. She blushed as she glanced around. A couple people gave her a curious look, but most were too focused on trying to understand the strange formula on the board to notice.
Kelly turned her mind to her immedite situation. Why was she starting to wet herself already? She was quite full, but not bursting by any means. Cautiously she took moved her hands away from her crotch, and she felt her bladder quiver inside her, but held tight. Kelly continued taking notes, but her attention was quite divided between the chalkboard and her bladder.
About 10 minutes later, Kelly felt a sudden wave of desperation coming from her bladder. She squeezed thighs together and put an extra little oomph into holding back her pee, but to her horror another tiny spurt still escaped into her cotton-white panties. She managed to keep herself from making any audible gasps this time, but dropped her pen on the ground in her rush to grab her crotch. Once she felt a little more under control, she bent down slowly to grab her pen, knowing that this would only add more pressure to her bladder.
As Kelly grabbed her pen and yet another spurt, this one slightly longer, burst past her clenched sphincter muscles, it clicked. Kelly had spent so much time stretching her bladder last night and holding back her pee as long as she could that her muscles were shot. They could barely do their job.
Well, if her muscles weren't going to do the job, her hands were just going to have to. Kelly jammed her right hand into her crotch and tried to keep taking notes, but she quickly realized there was no way that was going to happen. Whereas before her bladder was merely full, she now realized that her level of desperation was approaching the stage where, even last night, she would soon lose control. She dropped her pen in her bag and stuffed both hands between her legs, trying to be as discreet as possible, but, well, that was quickly becoming difficult.
Kelly looked at the clock. Only five minutes left? She might make it yet. She bounced up and down slightly, tried to cross her legs without moving her hands (it didn't work), anything she could possibly to do hold back the flood for another few seconds. Just a few more seconds, she told herself. Just a few more seconds.
As Kelly got ready to sprint out the door, she realized with horror that, while she was managing to hang on now, she almost certainly wouldn't be maintain that control for more than a few seconds while standing, much less walking or climbing the stairs to her room. Kelly suddenly started to panic. No, no, this was not what she wanted. Despite feeling somewhat turned on by her full bladder, Kelly's modesty and decency were far more important than that.
She dimly realized that people were starting to pack their things. Class was over! Kelly stuffed her notebook in her bag and was halfway stood up before she realized what she was doing, or more importantly that her hands had left her crotch. Or perhaps even more importantly, that her bladder was already emptying itself.
For a half a moment Kelly tried to squeeze every muscle she had in her lower body to hold back a seeming waterfall from between her legs, but there was no way. Her sphincter muscles were so weak that she felt as if she couldn't even squeeze. In a blind panic, Kelly sprinted out of the room, catching a glimpse of Michael walking towards her as she did...
Luckily, Kelly had been sitting near the back of the room, and the rest of the classes didn't seem to have let out yet, so there was nobody to see Kelly having a complete accident in her jeans. She wasn't even trying to hold back the flood now, she knew there was no point, she just had to get to her room as fast as possible. As Kelly left the building and started cutting across the lawn to her dorm she felt the pee cascading down her legs reach her feet, and no sign of stopping.
Kelly reached the front door of her building, let herself inside, and continued to sprint down the hallway to her dorm room. Her bladder was empty enough she had managed to stop soaking herself, but her bladder was noticably full. As Kelly slammed her dorm door behind her her arousal that had been growing inside her for the better part of half an hour, present, but completely dominated by her self-decency, burst out. Amazingly turned on, perhaps even more so than anytime yesterday, Kelly whipped off her pants and slipped on her favorite basketball shorts. Her bladder was probably half empty by now but her sphincter muscles were so tired that even holding back this amount was proving difficult.
Kelly grabbed her towel, spread it over the floor, and barely got on top of it before she felt her muscles give way completely. The orgasm that had been building inside her since she got into her room exploded from within her, without even any 'help' from her hands. Overcome with arousal, Kelly sank to the floor again, laying there for several minutes before finally finding the strength to get up. "Who knew having weak bladder muscles could be so arousing?" Kelly thought. As Kelly registered what she was thinking, a grin spread across her face. She grabbed an extra water bottle from beside her chest and started chugging.... |
This story contains female desperation and wetting.
Please do not repost this story without permission.
This is a continuation of the previous parts of An Unintentionally Wet Vacation. I recommend reading the previous parts first:
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Chapter 9
Zoe let out a long, slow breath as she lay her head back against the pillow. She felt her cheeks flush and a dull tingly sensation still pulsed faintly in her stomach. Turning her head, she stared over at Amber, who, fortunately, still lay sleeping. Zoe began sliding carefully out from under the covers. The soaked sheets clung to her bare legs as she tried to wiggle over to the edge of the bed. Finally, she slid one leg off the side and stood up, holding her breath as the movement pushed a large puddle of pee off the bed and onto the floor. Zoe stood frozen, weight resting heavily on one leg, watching Amber for any sign of movement. When none came, she resumed breathing and turned around to survey the damage to the bed.
Upon her egress, the top sheet had fallen upon the flooded bed and now sported a large wet spot gradually spreading out from its center. Internally, Zoe debated whether to clean the bed or herself first; she found the cooling wetness of her clothing unpleasant, but, unlike her clothes, she couldn’t hide the bed, so she resolved to clean it first.
Having made her decision, Zoe now found herself at loss for how to actually go about cleaning up the bed. She didn’t have long before Amber woke up; certainly not long enough for the sheets to dry, and she didn’t have any spare sheets with which she could replace the wet ones. But, she thought to herself, the bed didn’t actually need to be made up normally, it just needed to look normal...
Working as quickly as she could, while keeping a close eye on Amber’s sleeping form, Zoe stripped the bed down to the mattress. She then remade the bed with only the less-damaged top sheet. The rest of the bedding she set temporarily in a pile between the bed and the far wall. Next, Zoe lifted her suitcase onto the bed and began laying out some of her shirts to strategically cover wet patches on the top sheet. When she had finished, nothing short of a fairly detailed inspection would reveal the deception.
With the first stage of cleanup complete, Zoe stood in front of the window staring down at the soaked pile of cloth laying next to the bed. In her mind, she had expected the deception to buy her the time needed to dry it; except, now she was unsure how she had ever expected to accomplish that, given she really had nowhere to hang it up to dry. As she stood staring, she heard Amber’s bed creak, and her head whipped up in alarm.
“Morning Zoe,” Amber said groggily from her bed, supporting herself on her elbows as she looked over inquisitively at Zoe.
“Oh, hey Amber,” she replied as innocently as she could manage, “I was just trying to decide what to wear today.”
Amber nodded, fell back on her bed, and stretched. As Zoe watched Amber begin to get up, her hand brushed against her shorts, reminding her they were still soaking wet along with pretty much her entire back side. Quickly Zoe dropped down onto her knees behind the bed and pretended to inspect a blue tank top.
Amber trudged off to the bathroom, and Zoe sprung into action the moment the door closed. Pulling off her shorts, she threw them into the pile at her feet then rummaged through her suitcase for something to wear. Zoe searched frantically for her swimsuit bottoms, but she couldn’t find them anywhere in her suitcase. When she heard Amber begin to pee into the toilet she knew time was running out. She pulled a pair of lightweight capris out of her suitcase and struggled to pull them on as quickly as possible. When the fabric gave her a rough wedgy she realized she had forgotten panties, but at the same time she heard Amber’s stream slow to a trickle and knew she didn’t have time for them now. She whipped off her nightshirt and pulled the first top she could find out of her suitcase, a thin lacy white top. As Amber finished washing her hands and began to open the door, Zoe quickly kicked all of her wet sheets and clothes under the bed and stood up.
A puzzled smirk came over Amber’s face when she left the bathroom and looked over at Zoe. Zoe’s heart sank, but she couldn’t figure out what had given her away. She prepared to tell Amber a story about how she had dreamed she was using the bathroom, but before she could start, Amber laughed.
“Unless you’re on your way to visit Jason, you might want to wear something under that top.”
“What?” Zoe gasped, caught totally by surprise.
“At least wear your swimsuit under it!”
Zoe looked down to see the sheer material revealing the contours of her chest.
“Whoops, I didn’t realize it was so... transparent...” Zoe murmured as she bent over to rummage through her suitcase again. This time she extracted a light blue tank top and a white bra and then retreated to the bathroom as quickly as she could.
The events of the past several minutes caught up with Zoe as she dressed. As it turned out, she still needed to pee rather badly. When she pulled down her capris she cursed under her breath, realizing she had forgotten to bring panties with her to the bathroom.
After relieving herself, she met up with Amber in the main bedroom, and the two headed off to find some breakfast.
Chapter 10
Early that afternoon, the entire group gathered on the beach to discuss the day’s plan. Dave, the trip’s senior chaperon, covered the details.
“This afternoon we’ll be hiking through the heart of the island to a plantation left by early settlers of the island. It’s a few hours away on foot, and the terrain is pretty rough at points, so we’re going to break into three groups. Jason will lead one group along the most difficult, but also the most interesting, path. I’ll lead one group along an easier path. And anyone who doesn’t feel like walking can wait around and take the bus.”
As Dave finished speaking, people began shifting around and congregating into the groups Dave had described.
Amber put a hand on Zoe’s arm, “I’m not sure if I’m up for really rough terrain, you wanna go with Dave?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’m not either... but I want to go with Jason. Look, it’s fine if you want to go with Dave without me though.”
Amber pursed her lips, “no, you need my support or you won’t get anywhere,” she joked, converting her frown into a sly smile.
The pair made off towards Jason, around whom only Alexa and Eric had gathered.
“Looks like not too many people feel like taking a treacherous hike this afternoon,” Jason said with a smile.
“Anyway,” he continued, “we’ve got some rented gear back at my cabin, so let’s go pick that up and be on our way.”
At Jason’s cabin, the group donned rented hiking boots and backpacks, already filled with an assortment of bottled water, snacks, ropes, bandages and other miscellaneous accessories.
At first the going was easy and the trees provided a great deal of shade from the scorching sun. But after 20 minutes, the ground began to rise and the trees thinned out. Soon they arrived at a small creek running along the path, and Jason called for a break.
“God damn is it hot,” Zoe bitched to Amber, stretching out on some moss next to the creek as she spoke.
“Yes, well, whose fault is this again?” Amber retorted jovially as she handed Zoe a half empty water bottle.
“Aww, aren’t they cute,” Zoe said, changing the subject abruptly and pointing across the path.
Alexa lay with her head in Eric’s lap as he poured cool water into her mouth like a waterfall. It remained cute up until Eric began pouring a little too quickly and Alexa choked, sending a geyser of water into his face.
Amber took a cheerful jab at her friend, “Guess you need a little more practice with having your throat full, Alexa.”
Jason struggled to maintain a straight face while the others broke out laughing. Zoe’s thoughts were driven straight to him, but she did her best to force a laugh. This would be a stressful walk if every sexual innuendo kept making her think of Jason, especially with Amber constantly teasing her about him.
“Well, we really need to be going, we don’t have a lot of time to spare if we want to meet the others on time,” Jason prompted.
“OK, justa sec I gotta pee. Alexa, Zoe, either of you coming?” Amber asked.
“I’m good,” Alexa replied.
“Me too,” Zoe echoed.
In fact, Zoe did have to pee, but she didn’t want Amber to see that she wasn’t wearing panties. Her capris had been intimately reminding her of that fact every step of the hike, and she didn’t need Amber teasing her about that too.
When Amber returned she took one last jab at Alexa, “come on, we have to get moving before Eric tries to put something else down your throat.”
Alexa responded with a friendly tap on the arm, “Don’t be jealous because you haven’t found a boyfriend of the week yet.”
“Touché,” Amber replied, as Jason and Eric led the group down the path and the three girls followed closely behind.
The vegetation remained relatively sparse, and the sun remained absolutely hot, so the group took frequent water breaks as they walked along the stream. About 90 minutes, later they stopped for a rest at a bend in the path. An old wooden bridge crossed the stream and took the path on a course perpendicular to the flowing water.
Before sitting down, Zoe looked around impatiently for somewhere to relieve herself. Unfortunately, the thin tree cover offered few sheltered spots; as had been the case at the last two stops. On the up side she thought, they were more than halfway there and the exercise helped distract her from the need to go. She sipped from her water bottle, willing to trade some discomfort in her bladder now for relief from dehydration later in the day.
Jason kept glancing at his watch with concern as the group rested.
“Hey guys, we’re running a bit behind cause of all of the stops. Drink up now, we’re going to need to push it a bit longer between stops to get there in time.”
Zoe took a long draw from the bottle, strapped her backpack on, and joined the group as they resumed their trek.
Once they had cleared the bridge, the undergrowth began to thicken and block out more of the sun. The ground also became rockier as they moved towards a series of valleys that characterized the central region of the island. Within 30 minutes, no sign of the sky remained visible; green sunlight filtered through the leaves above, casting an odd tint on everything below.
Mentally Zoe noted that the undergrowth provided plenty of cover for her now, but Jason made no indication that he planned to stop anytime soon, and the exercise no longer provided much distraction from her need to go. She, Amber, and Alexa had dropped back just beyond earshot from the boys and walked along chatting idly.
“I have to pee,” Alexa commented to no one in particular.
“So do I, you should ask Jason to stop,” Zoe prompted.
“How about you ask him?”
“I don’t really have to go that bad,” Zoe lied.
“Me neither,” Alexa said, much to Zoe’s dismay.
Alexa didn’t know whether she could actually wait, but she also didn’t want to be the sole reason for the group to take a break. She could feel moisture between her legs but told herself it was only sweat.
The girls walked on in silence, but several minutes later Alexa felt a drop of liquid caress her inner thigh on its way to the ground. She still wanted to believe it was just sweat, but she was so numb from holding that she wasn’t sure.
“Sorry guys, I’ve gotta call for a break,” she told the other two.
Neither had time to respond before Alexa dashed up the path towards the boys, who had disappeared around a bend in the trail.
She came to an abrupt stop when she saw Jason and Eric picking their way gingerly along a narrow rock ledge overlooking a steep, rocky drop to the ground below. The ledge projected only about a foot out from a nearly vertical rock face that stretched up and away. Jason and Eric were shuffling along sideways, their faces to the wall with their backpacks sticking out over the ravine. Carefully they moved along from one hand-hold to the next, but both stopped when they saw Alexa round the corner.
“Alexa,” Jason called out, as Zoe and Amber rounded the bend too, “it looks like this part of the trail got washed out. It’s only about 20 feet to the other side, but it gets really narrow here in the middle for a couple feet.”
“Could we just take a quick break?” Alexa yelled back, struggling to keep panic out of her voice as she felt another drip run down her leg, less certain than ever that it was just sweat.
“We’ll take a break on the other side, I want us all to cross together, and it’s too dangerous for Eric and me to cross back now.”
Grimacing and praying she could hold it, Alexa stepped cautiously out onto the ledge. She began shuffling along, barely cognizant of her surroundings as she struggled to hold both the rock wall and her bladder.
Zoe followed Alexa onto the ledge. She wasn’t faring much better; the narrow rock shelf forced her body into an uncomfortable upright position, and the immense dropoff behind her severely limited her ability to squirm or hold herself. She had to pause several times to avoid losing control.
Jason and Eric stood waiting patiently near the middle of the span when the girls finally arrived. As Jason had said, the already skinny path narrowed even more at this point. Jason reached out his hand and Alexa took it thankfully. She shifted her right foot further down the path to shuffle through the treacherous spot. As she shifted her weight from left to right she accidentally bumped her shoulder against the rock face. Feeling herself losing balance, she instinctively slid her right foot backwards in an attempt to bring it under her shifting center of mass, but her foot met nothing but air. Her left leg buckled under the expected weight, and she let out a shrill scream as she began sliding down the steep cliff face.
Zoe reacted instantly, managing to grab Alexa’s flailing left hand as she slipped. Zoe would have easily been dragged from the edge too, had Jason not already been holding Alexa’s other hand. But Zoe and Jason still stood facing the rock wall, unable to turn fully around and pull Alexa up due to the bulk of their backpacks sticking out behind them.
For the next few seconds everyone stood motionless. Adrenaline coursed through Zoe’s blood as her left hand gripped the rock in front of her and her right hand held Alexa behind her. She stared with unseeing eyes at the rock face, unable to see Alexa, but acutely aware of the sounds around her. The shrill scream had turned into soft sobs of fear, underscored by a soft hissing and the echoing plip of liquid dripping onto rock.
Jason spoke up in a shaky voice, “Zoe, on the count of three let’s pull her up carefully.”
“OK. On three. One... Two... THREE,” Jason counted.
Lifting with all their might, Zoe and Jason pulled Alexa back to the relatively safety of the ledge. The group stood in embarrassed silence as Alexa hugged the rock wall while a stream continued running down her legs and over the precipice to the ground far below.
Not able to help it, Zoe turned her head discretely to look at Alexa, but the vision of the spreading dark patch on Alexa’s clothes made her start to leak herself, and she was forced to look away.
Finally the hissing noise tapered off.
“OK,” Alexa whispered timidly.
Alexa was still shaking, but managed to make it past the narrowest part of the path this time.
Now, Zoe realized with fear, it was her turn, and she too was having trouble keeping a steady footing while fighting her bladder. She looked over at Jason. His face was as white as hers felt, but he couldn’t take her hand because Alexa was between them on the path.
“Here, let me take your hand,” Amber offered.
Zoe started to reach out, but Jason interrupted, “No, if she slips you won’t be able to hold her by yourself, she’ll just pull you down too.”
Amber hesitated.
“It’s OK Amber, he’s right,” Zoe said, returning her hand to the rock.
Zoe shuffled forward, making it just past the point where Alexa had slipped. Suddenly she felt a spasm in her bladder and gasped she sprang a second momentary leak. She froze, gripping the rock with all her might.
Jason yelled out in terror, “Hold on Zoe! What the hell is wrong?”
“I... I have to pee,” she said.
Jason looked up at the sky with his eyes closed.
“Please... God, just go,” he begged.
Zoe remained frozen against the rock. The others stood motionless as well.
Jason swallowed loudly, “I can’t catch if you fall... just... go enough so you won’t knock yourself over.”
Too terrified to argue and unable to hold longer anyway, she leaned her cheek against the cool rock, closed her eyes and imagined herself sitting safely at home on a toilet as another spurt came out. This time it didn’t stop immediately, and an unwelcome warmness filled the crotch of her capris, but then her body involuntarily shut off the flow when she felt it dripping down her legs. She tensed and restarted the flow. This time it hissed out with a force nothing could stop. She blushed while it saturated her socks and pooled in her boots, conscious that everyone was listening to her go, but the relief it brought was still immense.
Zoe didn’t stop going until she had completely finished. When she opened her eyes, she found herself staring into Jason’s, and immediately averted her gaze back to the rock. Feeling much steadier now, she made it across the narrow gap without further incident.
Amber followed with no difficulties of her own, and soon the entire group made it safely to the far side where they set down their packs to regroup. A short waterfall cascade down into a deep rock pool in the middle of the little clearing.
Amber went off in one direction to relieve herself behind some bushes, while Eric immediately began comforting Alexa. Alexa’s denim shorts had a dark inverted V stain at the crotch, and her legs had numerous cuts and scratches, but she wasn’t seriously hurt; just shocked by the ordeal.
Jason put his hand on Zoe’s shoulder and whispered in her ear, “Thanks, I’m glad you’re OK.”
His hand lingered a bit longer than was appropriate, then, to Zoe’s surprise, he wrapped his other arm around her and gave her a tight hug. Comforted by his grasp, Zoe returned the embrace and leaned her head on his shoulder. She felt one of his hands sliding down her back, but didn’t make any motion to stop him. The hand explored just to the start of the wet patch.
Jason spoke softly into her ear, “Sorry I made you... it’ll dry by the time we get there, don’t worry.”
Then he pulled back and walked quickly into the tree cover to relieve himself.
Zoe headed over towards Alexa, passing Eric as he too walked towards the bush.
“It’s OK, we’re in this together,” she said, trying to comfort Alexa.
The two sat in silence for a minute, listening to the steady sound of the waterfall behind them.
“Hey, I have an idea! Let’s go wading,” Zoe exclaimed.
She grabbed Alexa’s hand and pulled her towards the pool at the bottom of the waterfall. Zoe waded in until the cool water reached just past her waist. She called back to Alexa, who still stood at the edge of the pool.
“Come on, it’s nice”
Alexa shrugged and stepped into the water. She rubbed the clear water over her legs, soothing the cuts and washing herself off.
When the others returned, the two girls left the water and the group resumed their trek through the island’s wilderness.
Comments, criticism, and suggestions are all welcome. |
Thanks for your feedback; those are great ideas, and I've used them to slightly modify the version of this that I'm posting on Literotica.
I can't edit my original post, but I've included the modified version of part 3 below. The changes are inconsequential as far as the plot goes, so it's not worth rereading if you've already read the original version, but I feel they do add more depth to this part of the story. (And if you're reading this for the first time, feel free to read this copy instead of the original, you won't miss anything.)
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This is not the next part yet; this is a slightly modified repost of the original part 3.
Chapter 9
Zoe let out a long, slow breath as she lay her head back against the pillow. She felt her cheeks flush and a dull tingly sensation still pulsed faintly in her stomach. Turning her head, she stared over at Amber, who, fortunately, still lay sleeping. Zoe began sliding carefully out from under the covers. The soaked sheets clung to her bare legs as she tried to wiggle over to the edge of the bed. Finally, she slid one leg off the side and stood up, holding her breath as the movement pushed a large puddle of pee off the bed and onto the floor. Zoe stood frozen, weight resting heavily on one leg, watching Amber for any sign of movement. When none came, she resumed breathing and turned around to survey the damage to the bed.
Upon her egress, the top sheet had fallen upon the flooded bed and now sported a large wet spot gradually spreading out from its center. Internally, Zoe debated whether to clean the bed or herself first; she found the cooling wetness of her clothing unpleasant, but, unlike her clothes, she couldn’t hide the bed, so she resolved to clean it first.
Having made her decision, Zoe now found herself at loss for how to actually go about cleaning up the bed. She didn’t have long before Amber woke up; certainly not long enough for the sheets to dry, and she didn’t have any spare sheets with which she could replace the wet ones. But, she thought to herself, the bed didn’t actually need to be made up normally, it just needed to look normal...
Working as quickly as she could, while keeping a close eye on Amber’s sleeping form, Zoe stripped the bed down to the mattress. She then remade the bed with only the less-damaged top sheet. The rest of the bedding she set temporarily in a pile between the bed and the far wall. Next, Zoe lifted her suitcase onto the bed and began laying out some of her shirts to strategically cover wet patches on the top sheet. When she had finished, nothing short of a fairly detailed inspection would reveal the deception.
With the first stage of cleanup complete, Zoe stood in front of the window staring down at the soaked pile of cloth laying next to the bed. In her mind, she had expected the deception to buy her the time needed to dry it; except, now she was unsure how she had ever expected to accomplish that, given she really had nowhere to hang it up to dry. As she stood staring, she heard Amber’s bed creak, and her head whipped up in alarm.
“Morning Zoe,” Amber said groggily from her bed, supporting herself on her elbows as she looked over inquisitively at Zoe.
“Oh, hey Amber,” she replied as innocently as she could manage, “I was just trying to decide what to wear today.”
Amber nodded, fell back on her bed, and stretched. As Zoe watched Amber begin to get up, her hand brushed against her shorts, reminding her they were still soaking wet along with pretty much her entire back side. Quickly Zoe dropped down onto her knees behind the bed and pretended to inspect a blue tank top.
Amber trudged off to the bathroom, and Zoe sprung into action the moment the door closed. Pulling off her shorts, she threw them into the pile at her feet then rummaged through her suitcase for something to wear. Zoe searched frantically for her swimsuit bottoms, but she couldn’t find them anywhere in her suitcase. When she heard Amber begin to pee into the toilet she knew time was running out. She pulled a pair of lightweight capris out of her suitcase and struggled to pull them on as quickly as possible. When the fabric gave her a rough wedgy she realized she had forgotten panties, but at the same time she heard Amber’s stream slow to a trickle and knew she didn’t have time for them now. She whipped off her nightshirt and pulled the first top she could find out of her suitcase, a thin lacy white top. As Amber finished washing her hands and began to open the door, Zoe quickly kicked all of her wet sheets and clothes under the bed and stood up.
A puzzled smirk came over Amber’s face when she left the bathroom and looked over at Zoe. Zoe’s heart sank, but she couldn’t figure out what had given her away. She prepared to tell Amber a story about how she had dreamed she was using the bathroom, but before she could start, Amber laughed.
“Unless you’re on your way to visit Jason, you might want to wear something under that top.”
“What?” Zoe gasped, caught totally by surprise.
“At least wear your swimsuit under it!”
Zoe looked down to see the sheer material revealing the contours of her chest.
“Whoops, I didn’t realize it was so... transparent...” Zoe murmured as she bent over to rummage through her suitcase again. This time she extracted a light blue tank top and a white bra and then retreated to the bathroom as quickly as she could.
The events of the past several minutes caught up with Zoe as she dressed. As it turned out, she still needed to pee rather badly. When she pulled down her capris she cursed under her breath, realizing she had forgotten to bring panties with her to the bathroom.
After relieving herself, she met up with Amber in the main bedroom, and the two headed off to find some breakfast.
Chapter 10
Early that afternoon, the entire group gathered on the beach to discuss the day’s plan. Dave, the trip’s senior chaperon, covered the details.
“This afternoon we’ll be hiking through the heart of the island to a plantation left by early settlers of the island. It’s a few hours away on foot, and the terrain is pretty rough at points, so we’re going to break into three groups. Jason will lead one group along the most difficult, but also the most interesting, path. I’ll lead one group along an easier path. And anyone who doesn’t feel like walking can wait around and take the bus.”
As Dave finished speaking, people began shifting around and congregating into the groups Dave had described.
Amber put a hand on Zoe’s arm, “I’m not sure if I’m up for really rough terrain, you wanna go with Dave?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’m not either... but I want to go with Jason. Look, it’s fine if you want to go with Dave without me though.”
Amber pursed her lips, “no, you need my support or you won’t get anywhere,” she joked, converting her frown into a sly smile.
The pair made off towards Jason, around whom only Alexa and Eric had gathered.
“Looks like not too many people feel like taking a treacherous hike this afternoon,” Jason said with a smile.
“Anyway,” he continued, “we’ve got some rented gear back at my cabin, so let’s go pick that up and be on our way.”
At Jason’s cabin, the group donned rented hiking boots and backpacks, already filled with an assortment of bottled water, snacks, ropes, bandages and other miscellaneous accessories.
At first the going was easy and the trees provided a great deal of shade from the scorching sun. But after 20 minutes, the ground began to rise and the trees thinned out. Soon they arrived at a small creek running along the path, and Jason called for a break.
“God damn is it hot,” Zoe bitched to Amber, stretching out on some moss next to the creek as she spoke.
“Yes, well, whose fault is this again?” Amber retorted jovially as she handed Zoe a half empty water bottle.
“Aww, aren’t they cute,” Zoe said, changing the subject abruptly and pointing across the path.
Alexa lay with her head in Eric’s lap as he poured cool water into her mouth like a waterfall. It remained cute up until Eric began pouring a little too quickly and Alexa choked, sending a geyser of water into his face.
Amber took a cheerful jab at her friend, “Guess you need a little more practice with having your throat full, Alexa.”
Jason struggled to maintain a straight face while the others broke out laughing. Zoe’s thoughts were driven straight to him, but she did her best to force a laugh. This would be a stressful walk if every sexual innuendo kept making her think of Jason, especially with Amber constantly teasing her.
“Well, we really need to be going, we don’t have a lot of time to spare if we want to meet the others on time,” Jason prompted.
“OK, justa sec I gotta pee. Alexa, Zoe, either of you coming?” Amber asked.
“I’m good,” Alexa replied.
“Me too,” Zoe echoed.
In fact, Zoe did have to pee, but she didn’t want Amber to see that she wasn’t wearing panties. Her capris had been intimately reminding her of that fact every step of the hike, and she didn’t need Amber teasing her about that too.
When Amber returned she took one last jab at Alexa, “come on, we have to get moving before Eric tries to put something else down your throat.”
Alexa responded with a friendly tap on the arm, “Don’t be jealous because you haven’t found a boyfriend of the week yet.”
“Touché,” Amber replied, as Jason and Eric led the group down the path and the three girls followed closely behind.
The vegetation remained relatively sparse, and the sun remained absolutely hot, so the group took frequent water breaks as they walked along the stream. About 90 minutes, later they stopped for a rest at a bend in the path. An old wooden bridge crossed the stream and took the path on a course perpendicular to the flowing water.
Before sitting down, Zoe looked around impatiently for somewhere to relieve herself. Unfortunately, the thin tree cover offered few sheltered spots; as had been the case at the last two stops. On the up side, she thought, they were more than halfway there and the exercise helped distract her from the need to go. She sipped from her water bottle, willing to trade some discomfort in her bladder now for relief from dehydration later in the day.
Jason kept glancing at his watch with concern as the group rested.
“Hey guys, we’re running a bit behind cause of all of the stops. Drink up now, we’re going to need to push it a bit longer between stops to get there in time.”
Zoe took a long draw from the bottle, strapped her backpack on, and joined the group as they resumed their trek.
Once they had cleared the bridge, the undergrowth began to thicken and block out more of the sun. The ground also became rockier as they moved towards a series of valleys that characterized the central region of the island. Within 30 minutes, no sign of the sky remained visible; green sunlight filtered through the leaves above, casting an odd tint on everything below.
Mentally Zoe noted that the undergrowth provided plenty of cover for her now, but Jason made no indication that he planned to stop anytime soon, and the exercise no longer provided much distraction from her need to go. She, Amber, and Alexa had dropped back just beyond earshot from the boys and walked along chatting idly.
“I have to pee,” Alexa commented to no one in particular.
“So do I, you should ask Jason to stop,” Zoe prompted.
“How about you ask him?”
“I don’t really have to go that bad,” Zoe lied.
“Me neither,” Alexa said, much to Zoe’s dismay.
Alexa didn’t know whether she could actually wait, but she also didn’t want to be the sole reason for the group to take a break. She could feel moisture between her legs but told herself it was only sweat.
The girls walked on in silence, but several minutes later Alexa felt a drop of liquid caress her inner thigh on its way to the ground. She still wanted to believe it was just sweat, but she was so numb from holding that she wasn’t sure.
“Sorry guys, I’ve gotta call for a break,” she told the other two.
Neither had time to respond before Alexa dashed up the path towards the boys, who had disappeared around a bend in the trail.
Zoe sighed internally with relief, for she had nearly reached that point herself. Her bladder began to rouse itself as she prepared for the opportunity to go.
Alexa came to an abrupt stop when she saw Jason and Eric picking their way gingerly along a narrow rock ledge overlooking a steep, rocky drop to the ground below. The ledge projected only about a foot out from a nearly vertical rock face that stretched up and away. The boys were shuffling along sideways, their faces to the wall with their backpacks sticking out over the ravine. Carefully they moved along from one hand-hold to the next, but both stopped when they saw Alexa round the corner.
“Alexa,” Jason called out, as Zoe and Amber rounded the bend too, “it looks like this part of the trail got washed out. It’s only about 20 feet to the other side, but it gets really narrow here in the middle for a couple feet.”
“Could we just take a quick break?” Alexa yelled back, struggling to keep her voice calm as she felt another drip run down her leg, less certain than ever that it was just sweat.
“We’ll take a break on the other side, I want us all to cross together, and it’s too dangerous for Eric and me to come back now.”
Grimacing and praying she could hold it, Alexa stepped cautiously out onto the ledge. She began shuffling along, barely cognizant of her surroundings as she struggled to hold both the rock wall and her bladder.
Zoe followed Alexa onto the ledge. She wasn’t faring much better; the narrow rock shelf forced her body into an uncomfortable upright position, and the immense dropoff behind her severely limited her ability to squirm or hold herself. The shuffling motion required to move forward tortured her bladder as her legs slid apart and then back together.
Halfway to the boys she felt herself losing control as she slid her leading foot forward and spread her legs. Muscles tightened in her abdomen as they tried to force pee out of her bladder. Zoe stopped moving forward immediately and cupped herself between her spread legs with one hand, while the other held the rock in a death grip. Her hand warmed as she grabbed herself, and as her fingers compressed the fabric she felt droplets of liquid squeeze through and drip off. She shivered, having not even realized she had already wet a little. Zoe looked up sheepishly at the others, certain her odd behavior must have been noticed, but thankfully their eyes were glued intently on Alexa as she crossed the rock face.
Jason and Eric stood waiting patiently near the middle of the span when the girls finally arrived. As Jason had said, the already skinny path narrowed even more at this point. Jason reached out his hand and Alexa took it thankfully. She slid her right foot further down the path to shuffle through the treacherous spot. As she shifted her weight from left to right she accidentally bumped her shoulder against the rock face. Feeling herself losing balance, she instinctively slid her right foot backwards in an attempt to bring it under her shifting center of mass, but her foot met nothing but air. Her left leg buckled under the expected weight, and she let out a shrill scream as she began sliding down the steep cliff face.
Zoe reacted instantly, managing to grab Alexa’s flailing left hand as she slipped. Zoe would have easily been dragged from the edge too, had Jason not already been holding Alexa’s other hand. But Zoe and Jason still stood facing the rock wall, unable to turn fully around and pull Alexa up due to the bulk of their backpacks sticking out behind them.
For the next few seconds everyone stood motionless. Adrenaline coursed through Zoe’s blood, and she momentarily tuned out her desperation as she held Alexa with one hand and the rock with the other. The shrill scream had turned into soft sobs of shock, underscored by a low hissing noise and the echoing plip of liquid dripping onto stone.
Initially Zoe feared she had lost control, but a quick glance over her shoulder at the waterfall cascading from between Alexa’s legs sent such a pang of tension through her own bladder that she knew she still had at least temporary control. That was of little consolation though, for the sound and sight of Alexa wetting herself was almost too much for Zoe to stand. Again she felt her muscles preparing to constrict, but with both hands occupied in a life and death struggle she could not possibly hold herself this time. She engaged in a mental struggle with her body; she felt herself on the verge of an intense spasm and did her absolute best not to move lest she trigger it.
Jason interrupted in a shaky voice, “Zoe, on the count of three let’s pull her up carefully.”
The interruption banished the impending spasm. On the count of three she would have a free hand with which to hold herself; what good that would do she wasn’t sure, but mentally she clung to it as an escape.
Jason continued, “OK. On three. One... Two... THREE.”
Lifting with all their might, Zoe and Jason pulled Alexa back to the relative safety of the ledge. The group stood in embarrassed silence as Alexa hugged the rock wall while a stream continued running down her legs and over the precipice to the ground far below.
The moment Zoe’s hand was freed she sunk it between her legs. Not able to help it, she turned her head discretely to look at Alexa, but the vision of the spreading wet patch on Alexa’s clothes proved too much, and a dribble of pee slipped from Zoe as she quickly looked away.
“OK,” Alexa whispered timidly when she had finished.
Although still shaking, she managed to make it past the narrowest part of the path this time.
Now, Zoe realized with dread, it was her turn; but even with her hand between her legs she could feel herself getting slowly wetter by the second. She looked over at Jason. His face was as white as hers felt, but he couldn’t hold her hand because Alexa stood between them on the path.
“Here, let me take your hand,” Amber offered.
Zoe kept her hand in place, unsure what to say, but Jason saved her from having to explain the reason, “No, if she slips you won’t be able to hold her by yourself, she’ll just pull you down too.”
Amber hesitated.
“It’s OK Amber, he’s right,” Zoe said.
Zoe continued to stand still on the ledge, unable to shuffle effectively with one hand between her legs. After several seconds of waiting, Jason spoke up.
“Come on Zoe, you can do it, what’s wrong?”
“I... I have to pee,” she said.
Jason looked up at the sky with his eyes closed.
“Please... God, just go,” he begged.
Zoe remained frozen against the rock. The others stood motionless as well.
Jason swallowed loudly, “I can’t catch if you fall... just... go enough so you won’t knock yourself over.”
Too terrified to argue and too desperate to hold longer anyway, she leaned her cheek against the cool rock, closed her eyes, removed her hand and imagined herself sitting safely at home on a toilet. The spasm she had been holding back came unimpeded now, sending a rushing jet of pee straight down her leg. With great relief she milked the spasm, blushing while the urine saturated her socks and pooled in her boots, conscious that everyone was listening to her.
Zoe didn’t stop going until she had completely finished. When she opened her eyes, she found herself staring into Jason’s, and immediately averted her gaze back to the rock. Feeling much steadier now, she made it across the narrow gap without further incident.
Amber followed with no difficulties of her own, and soon the entire group stood safely at the far side, where a short waterfall cascade down into a deep rock pool in the middle of a little clearing.
Amber went off in one direction to relieve herself behind some bushes, while Eric immediately began comforting Alexa. Alexa’s denim shorts had a dark inverted V stain at the crotch, and her legs had numerous cuts and scratches, but she wasn’t seriously hurt; just shocked by the ordeal.
Zoe noticed Jason staring at her; the direction of his gaze, unmistakably right at her wet pants, made her uncomfortable. Looking down she saw more than just her wet capris had attracted his attention. Discretely she tried to pull back the soaked fabric plastered against her bare skin. Her movement snapped Jason from his trance.
Putting his hand on Zoe’s shoulder, he spoke quietly, “Thanks, I’m glad you’re OK.”
His hand lingered a bit longer than was appropriate, then, to Zoe’s surprise, he wrapped his other arm around her and gave her a tight hug. Comforted by his grasp, Zoe returned the embrace and leaned her head on his shoulder. She felt one of his hands sliding down her back, but made no motion to stop him. His hand crept down until his fingertips were pushing wet fabric against her skin, just below where her panty line should have been.
Jason spoke softly into her ear, “Sorry I made you... it’ll dry by the time we get there, don’t worry.”
Then he pulled back and walked quickly into the tree cover to relieve himself.
Zoe headed over towards Alexa, passing Eric as he too walked towards the bush.
“It’s OK, we’re in this together,” she said, trying to comfort Alexa.
The two sat in silence for a minute, listening to the steady sound of the waterfall behind them.
“Hey, I have an idea! Let’s go wading,” Zoe exclaimed.
She grabbed Alexa’s hand and pulled her towards the pool at the bottom of the waterfall. Zoe waded in until the cool water reached just past her waist. She called back to Alexa, who still stood at the edge of the pool.
“Come on, it’s nice”
Alexa shrugged and stepped into the water. She rubbed the clear water over her legs, soothing the cuts and washing herself off.
When the others returned, the two girls left the water and the group resumed their trek through the island’s wilderness.
Edited May 29, 2012 by xinycep
(see edit history) |
Yes, that was purely accidental. My browser tripped out while I was posting. I've already PM'd Shu and asked him to delete the other one. :)
And thanks for all the positive feedback guys. Next chapter should be up in a couple hours. Hope you guys don't mind some messing. :)
Well here's the next chapter. Hope you guys enjoy it as much as you did the last. It will be changing perspectives a few times, so hope it doesn't get too confusing.
As the girl crumpled at my feet I slid the gun into my jeans pocket. I turned and saw that the mom was about to scream. I ran towards her, and put my hand over her mouth just in time. When she realized that my hand was there she bit down hard, but I was expecting it. I reached up with my other hand and gripped the back of her neck. At first I thought I should kill her, but that would make things too easy. Instead I applied pressure on the base of her skull until I felt her go weak in my arms. I let her drop to the floor.
Turning around, I strode towards the unconscious girl on the floor. I'd been stalking her for quite some time now, and in person she was everything I hoped she would be. I bent down and threw her over my shoulder, starting towards the car. As I did so, the smell of urine hit me, and I saw the large wet spot on the bottom of her pants. I felt myself getting hard. "Not now John, not now," I whispered, "Wait until Memphis."
The back doors of my van swung open, and I threw the girl inside. I reached towards the side of the truck until I found the duct tape. The tape sealed her mouth perfectly, making sure she wouldn't be able to yell for help. Two lengths of rope were right beside the duct tape, so I grabbed those as well. I first bound her hands together behind her back, and then bound her feet together, to make sure she wouldn't be able to open the back doors and jump out.
I slammed the doors shut, and walked around to the drivers side door. I pulled out of the driveway and drove through a couple neighborhoods before I pulled onto the I-30E and started the drive towards Memphis, Tennessee. As I crossed the Fort Worth city border I flipped my iPod onto shuffle. The first song that came through the speakers was Sympathy for the Devil by The Rolling Stones. "Fitting," I grinned to my self.
"Fort Worth Police Station"
"AMBER ALERT! AMBER ALERT! AMBER ALERT!" blared all throughout the station at 6:23 local time.
"Fuck!" Mitch shouted loudly. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." Mitchell Grant had just finished hunting down serial killer James Hunter. It was a tiring experience, and he was in no mood to track down a kidnapper. Mitchell wasn't the only officer at the Fort Worth Police Station (FWPS), but he was by far the most senor, so he often ended up with the biggest cases. Sure enough, his sexy secretary Morgan walked in sporting a low cut blouse, and a skirt that barely reached her mid thighs. "This one is yours, Mitchie," she said dropping the documents on his desk. She spun on her heel, which was difficult to do in such tall high heels, and sauntered out of the room.
Mitchell sighed and ran his hands through his hair, leaning back in his chair. He opened his eyes and started flipping through the document. "Mackenzie Madison Seib. Orange hair, blue eyes. 5 feet, 4 inches, and 110lbs. Not the best description to work with, but it'll work. Oh, nevermind the mom's faxed over a picture," he said noting the attached photo for the first time. "Huh, she's pretty," he noted, examining the picture.
He walked out of his office and dropped the picture on Morgan's desk. "Have this sent out to every news station Name's Mackenzie Seib."
"Already done," said Morgan.
"And that's why I love you," he said slipping her a seductive wink. "Well, I'm off to question the mom. This is going to be just great," he grabbed his jacket and headed out the door.
"Good luck!" Morgan called after him.
Back to Mackenzie
Mackenzie awoke when the van slowed to a stop. She was extremely stiff. She tried to take a deep breath and stretch, but her hands were tied behind her back and her mouth was taped shut! Her eyes were wide open now, and she was breathing rapidly through her nose. Now she remembered where she was. That sick creep had knocked her out, and now she must be in the back of his van! She tried to scream, but the tape stifled any type of sound she made. She looked around wildly. There were no windows, but she could her footsteps outside the van.
She heard the doors swing open, but everything was still dark. It must have been night time. "Well, hello there," she heard a voice say. Suddenly she was lifted from the van, and she felt a now familiar feeling in her lower tummy. The feeling of liquid sloshing in her bladder. The man dropped her on the ground, which sent a sharp pain through her abdomen. She also felt another feeling higher up in her stomach, but she couldn't figure out what it was.
The doors to the fan were slammed shut, and once again she was picked up off the ground like a sack of potatoes. She heard a door opened and shut again, and then she was going downstairs. The pain in her abdomen was getting worse, and she new she'd have to pee -- soon! She just hoped the man would let her go.
They reached the bottom of the stairs, and once again she was dropped on the floor. She came so close to wetting herself for the second time in 12 hours, but somehow she held on. Her arms were jerked wildly behind her, and so were her feet. It was extremely uncomfortable. There was a slight sound of rope on rope, and when the man walked away she realized her limbs had been tied together. This prohibited her from moving at all, which made it extremely hard to control her bladder. If she could have, she would have had both hands in her urethra, her legs crossed, and she'd be bent at the waist doing whatever it would take to hold urine in.
As she had time to sit there for a few seconds she realized what the feeling was in her upper stomach. Actually, the feeling was in her bowels to be more specific. She had to poop. And bad. It was a terrible feeling being on the verge of wetting and messing herself, and she felt a tear come to her eye. She hoped that she would make it until the man would let her use the bathroom
Well that's it for today. The next chapter will of course be tomorrow. Tomorrow there will be a lot more desperation, some BDSM stuff, and of course some wetting and messing.
Edited May 21, 2012 by Apeman711
(see edit history) |
<I don’t know who the HELL she thinks is a rodent…!> Static vented as I threw another wooden stick in his direction. He electrocuted it into soot like all the others as I reached for another stick. <I mean, who supplies the world with clean electricity? Voltorbs? They would blow us to bits!>
<She’s just old. She doesn’t understand.>
<Whatever.> He singed another branch. <I just wish I could fight HER in a battle, I would rip-> Just then, a female trainer appeared out of some nearby bushes. I was about to great her, but static beat me to it.
<Oh heck yes.> He adjusted his pokespeak accordingly. <Hey! I saw you! Let’s battle!>
<Sorry,> I apologized to the trainer, <My Pikachu is a bit worked up. Because we GREET people first, then ASK them politely if they want to battle. Right Static?> He grumbled telepathically.
“Sure, I would love to battle.” She spoke. The sound of her voice startled me; I hadn’t realized we were talking telepathically. She wore a scarlet red dress with a large black belt around her waist. She had a darker completion, with dark, blue eyes. She reached around her belt and grabbed a pink poke ball covered in stickers.
“Go, Clefairy!” She shouted enthusiastically, tossing the pokeball. A red flash of light illuminated the woods, and a male Clefairy stood in a fighting stance. Static turned off “public-chat” on his Pokespeak.
<Standard beginning normal set, right?> Static beamed, completely in his element.
<You got it. Go!>
--------------------------------------
(Static POV.)
This was my thing. There were many things in life I couldn’t control. My trainer planned my life, where we ate, and where we live. Don’t get me wrong, he’s fantastic, and I love our lifestyle, but at times I yearn for more control.
This. This is where I dominate. This is my arena, and this is my show. I cracked my knuckles. Time to shine.
<FAKE OUT!> I shouted, smashing my paws in front of the Clefairy. He flinched backwards, giving me the opening I needed. <Brick Break!> My paw glowed orange with fighting energy, and I crashed it against my opponent. Clefairy skyrocketed into a nearby tree, splintering the wood. My cheeks charged with electricity, and I took aim.
“Clefairy! Use double-”
<Thunderbolt!> I interrupted, electrocuting the pink puff. It collapsed on the grass.
<Yes! Heh! Didn’t even get a chance to attack!>
<Don’t get cocky, she has more.> My trainer commanded. I shook my head, he was right. I had to keep my head in the game.
“Go, Wigglytuff!” She tossed another hot-pink pokeball in the air, revealing a rather-large Wigglytuff.
<Alright, standard beginning normal set again, right?>
<NO.> My trainer commanded, and startled me. <You cannot use fakeout again, it will fail, and it will give her Wigglytuff an opening on you. Go straight for the Brick break thunderbolt combo.>
Damn, I completely would have forgotten that. That’s why he’s the trainer!>
<Brick breaaaak!> I thought-shouted rushing at the Wigglytuff. She caught me in midair and attempted a double slap, but I twisted out of her grasp and smashed her with my glowing palm.
“Wigg-AUGH!” She exclaimed as she crashed against the ground.
<Thunderbolt!> The nearby bushed crackled with electricity as I eliminated her remaining HP.
“Wig…” She collapsed upon the grass.
<Nice work, Static. Only one more to go.> I beamed at my trainer’s praise.
“Go, DarknessWithin!” She laughed, throwing a pitch-black luxury ball. I flinched as A krukodile appeared, glowing with dark energy. My eyes grew wide, and I started backing away. Third evolution ground and dark type!? I didn’t stand a chance, there was no way…
<Calm down.> My trainer commanded, feeling my fear leak into his consciousness. <Focus. You know what to do.>
Shaking, I pressed my palms together in an attempt to clear my mind. I closed my eyes. I felt the stomping of the ground as that monster charged me from across the forest.
In, out. In, out. This wouldn’t work if I didn’t focus. Deep breaths…
I heard the vegetation crunching under her massive footsteps.
In, out. In, out.
I trusted my trainer completely. He wouldn’t allow me to meditate too long, he would warn me in time to react.
In, out. In, out. Focus.
<Now, Static!> I focused the energy I had gathered, and released it into an aura of light blue light around me, aiming at the Krokidile.
<HIDDEN POWER ICE!> My aura smashed against the foe, sending him flying, and crunshing against the unforgiving ground. I didn’t give him any time to get up. <Brick Break!> I shouted, smashing my hardened palm into his stomach.
<Good work, Pikachu.> The collapsed Krokodile laid on it’s side, and I was once again rewarded with Josh’s praise. I beamed in victory.
The girl trainer on the other side returned her fainted pokemon to it’s pokeball. Now would come the small talk, the shaking hands, and the talking about strategies. I rolled my eyes just thinking about it.
“Thanks for a great battle! I don’t believe I caught your name?”
“It’s Sandy. Hey, that’s one hell of a Pikachu you got there!”
<You know it.> I said.
<Modesty.> Josh directed. I slumped back. <…but deserved.> I grinned.
“Yeah, he really is.” I heard Josh say. “This little guy’s gotten me out of some tough situations.” I adjusted my Poke-speak.
<WE have gotten out of tough situa- Hey! Put me down!> Josh grabbed me playfully, and I struggled to get loose. After a second he placed me on his shoulder. I pouted accordingly.
“We make a good team.” I messed up his hair as revenge. “Hey!”
<We do.> I jumped out of his reach as he blindly grabbed at me with his hair covering his eyes. By the time he managed to brush out his hair, I was already on the ground. I stuck my tongue at him.
“Aaaaanyway” Josh said, trying to recover from my little prank. “Do you want me to walk you to the pokemon center? Protect you from any tall grass along the way? It’s kinda dangerous without any pokemon that are awake.”
“I’ll be fine.” She revealed another pokemon under her hat. “Just for emergencies. But I’ll tell you what. Can I meet you later at the mall, maybe we could all get a bite?” Augh, humans. There are far too many social protocols…
“Sure, I’d love to. Meet you at seven?” Josh said. I noticed some feeling seeping from Joshes conscious to mine.
“Alright, see you there.” The girl dressed in red disappeared back into the forest from the same direction we came.
I noticed the feeling bubbling up in Josh’s consciousness again. Once she was gone, I looked back up at him.
<What are you thinking, Josh?> I asked him, not recognizing his feelings.
<I’m thinking…we have a date. How’d you like the Wigglytuff, Pikachu?>
I smiled. <Meh.>
<Oh, so the Krokodile was more your style?>
<AAAAUGHHHHH! Ok, Wigglytuff! Wigglytuff!>
He laughed, and I laughed. It had been a good day. |
Static pushed the door open, and we both entered a dank, shaded building. The door hit a bell that I assumed was meant to ring to alert employees of potential customers, but instead it simply clanked softly. It was broken.
A heavy older woman sat at a desk adjacent to the entrance, smoking a cigarette. She looked unhappy to see us, her already wrinkled face twisted into a look of distrust.
“What do you want?” A puff of grey smoke blew towards us, making me momentarily consider leaving.
“Is…this the pokemon adoption center?” I asked, looking cautiously around at the musky, degraded building.
“Yeah, yer in the right place. You musta been one of dem trainers that got the letter, huh?” She stared at me with, bored, glazed over eyes. “We only got one left, and trust me, you don’t want ‘em.”
“What’s wrong with …” I thought hard for a quick moment. Calling a Pokemon ‘it’ was a grave insult, which made it difficult when you didn’t know the gender. If I messed this up, Pikachu wouldn’t let me hear the end of it. “…That pokemon?” I concluded. Static nodded happily.
“It’s all screwed up.” Static bristled. “It ain’t a purebred, and it’s stupid as hell. Damn thing can’t even go outside without jumping at its own shadow.” The lady blew another puff of grey smoke. Pikachu bristled at the sound of hearing ‘purebred’, a term normally used for animals, not Pokemon. Also, he was not pureblooded, a fact that only intensified his hatred for the word. Her use of ‘it’ didn’t help matters.
<Calm down. She’s not worth it.> I told Static. He stood behind me, glaring at the employee. “Can we see the pokemon anyway?” I asked.
“Whatever.” She blew another coulomb of smoke, and left through an employee door.
<AUGH! I HATE humans.> Static raged. <Making us into ANIMALS. Calling us RODENTS and PUREBLOODED or MUTTS. There is NOTHING wrong with me! I can fight just as well as any other pureblooded Pikachu, I’ll show you!> He pointed menacingly at the door. Static remained quiet for a moment. <Y-you think I’m just as good as
like, a pureblood, right Jo->
<Of COURSE.> I interrupted. <Don’t even think otherwise.> He smiled.
<I don’t really hate humans…> He apologized. I rolled my eyes and made sure he felt appreciated.
The elderly woman pushed open the door, revealing a frightened charmander. It hugged her leg, eyeing us like a cornered sheep would eye a wolf, full of morbid fear. The woman shook her leg vilontly, kicking the charmander off her.
“Git!” She exclaimed. The Charmander landed on his stomach, cringing and putting his hands over his head. I couldn’t help glaring at the employee for how she treated the Charmander.
“Do you have a Pokespeak that he could use to talk with me?” I asked her, through gritted teeth. She stared back with her dull eyes.
“That devil technology isn’t to be used HERE. We don’t need to talk to animals.” She pushed Charmander closer to me with her foot. “You want him or what?”
I frowned. Normally it was customary to talk with the Pokemon first, to discover what his or her interests were, and to see if the two of you were compatible. In this circumstance, I figured anywhere was better than here for the little guy. “Yes, I’ll take good care of him. Is this your last Pokemon?”
“Yerrpers. Now I can retire from this dump, and we can finally burn it to the ground. Should have happened long ago.” She tossed her still burning cigarette onto the carpet.
I glared once at the obese woman as she slowly killed herself with the cigarettes. I picked up the Charmander and held him carefully in my arms.
“Bye.” I pushed the door open, Static at my heels. Once we were a short distance away we both sighed in unison. What a terrible experience.
<At least someone’s life got better.> I thought to static, referring to the shivering Charmander in my arms. <I’m not sure he’s well. Lets go to the Pokemon Center down the road, give him a checkup and buy another Pokespeak for him.>
<Sounds good.> Static bounded at my feet. <Any place is better than that place…>
“You don’t need to explain it to ME, I know that woman is a demon.” An understanding nurse spoke, while checking the charmander. “I’ve been trying to get her lisence for Pokemon adoption taken away for years, but to no avail. You’re a saint for taking this guy out.”
“Thanks. Is there anything wrong with…” I hesitated again, trying not to say ‘it’.
“Healthy male.” She said, sensing my distress. I smiled.
“Thanks. Before we go, do you have any Pokespeaks for sale? I don’t have a spare, and the woman there didn’t-” As I spoke, the nurse tossed the small devise into my unprepared hands.
“On me. You’re doing a nice thing here, it’s the least I can do.” She smiled.
“Awesome, thanks!”
“Don’t mention it. Take good care of that charmander, don’t be shy about coming back here if there’s any trouble!”
“Ok, thanks so much!” I fumbled with the machine on the way out, making sure it was set correctly. After walking a short distance, Static and I stopped by a nearby tree. Charmander stood several feet away from us, his black eyes wide with caution. He eyed the Pokespeak suspiciously.
“it’s alright” I said, trying to soothe him with my voice. I approached him slowly, and he cringed with anticipation. I patted his head as he shook in anxiety, and slid the Pokespeak onto his scalp.
<-going to hurt me! I don’t know this place, are you going to hurt me? You are, I’m sure of it.” His large, reptilian eyes closed, and a large tears appeared at the corners.
<I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.> I lifted him lightly, and placed him with static near the tree. I sat next to them both.
<Everyone’s hurt me. I’ve never been outside the house before…everything outside looks scary.> He hugged his tail, and cried softly.
<Hey, it’s not so bad out here. There’s a lot of fun stuff to do, and things to see!> I tried to brighten the Charmander’s mood, but he looked as terrified as ever.
<Look, wuss.> Static chimmed in. <We’re POKEMON. Our parents lived outside, you were probably conserved outside, and chances are we’ll be living a lot of our lives OUTSIDE. Get use to it.>
<Static!> I berated my insensitive Pikachu. <Be nice.>
<I am!> He thought-shouted, causing the Charmander to cry harder. <Look at this, he’s a huge cry-baby! I’ll toughen him up, lets teach him to battle!> Static’s cheeks
charged with electricity.
<STATIC. NO. If you can’t behave I’m going to put you in the pokeball until all this is resolved.>
Static shocked the ground near Charmander, causing him to yelp in shock. <Come on, just a LITTLE fun Josh!>
<Return.> I clicked the pokeball on the belt, absorbing him in a beam of scarlet light. Charmander stood petrified; his teary eyes staring up into my own. <Come, sit by me. I won’t hurt you.>
Charmander remained motionless for a moment, then slowly inched his way toward me. I waited patiently.
Eventually he sat down next to me, trembling slightly. I made no movement to scare him.
<I’m sorry, we keep calling you ‘Charmander’. I realize some pokemon like being called their species names, but others like to choose other names. What is your name?> I asked him, calmly.
<My name?> He looked confused. <Matilda never talked to me much. I guess ‘It’?> I cringed involuntarily.
<Is there a name that you would want to be called? I think it is a little… um…> I thought of a better way to phrase my concern over the treatment of the Charmander.
<Short?> He asked.
<…Yeah, ok. Do you have anything else in mind?>
<Can you give me some options?> He asked happily. He still looked fearful, but he looked more curious and upbeat now.
<Well, you’re a fire type, and typically Pokemon names are indicative of their type. For example, many people name their Pikachu’s after electrical terms, so the names are usually ‘sparky’, or ‘shocker’ and such.>
<Or Static!> He grinned, understanding the topic.
<Exactly. Since you’re a fire type, normally it would be something like ‘Flare’ or ‘match’ or something. Those are bad example.> I shook my head.
<What about Nova? I heard that Nova’s are giant stars in the sky that are big and strong. Maybe one day I could live up to my name.>
“Nova…” I said the name out loud, testing it on my tongue. <That’s a good choice. It’s fairly unique, I think people will be impressed with it when you tell them.>
<People?> He shrunk back. <What kind of people?>
<Nice people.> I thought calmly. <I’m a trainer, my pokemon and I travel the world to see new areas and to find new adventures. We also battle other pokemon for fun.>
<NO! Nonononono, I HATE battling!> He covered his face with his paws. <Please don’t make me battle. It’s scary, and it makes me feel sick.>
<You don’t have to battle if you don’t want to. You don’t even have to stay with me, if you don’t want to. If you wanted, I could bring you back to the city, and drop you off at a nice adoption house, and you could get adopted by a breeder, or a researcher.>
<No. You…seem different. You’re nice. I like you.> Nova stuck out his little Charmander limbs and hugged me. I smiled.
<Do you mind watching battles?> I asked, after a moment. <Static’s full of, um, ‘confidence’, and he’s going to want to show you his skills.>
<Better she use them on someone else then me.> He shrugged. <Yeah, watching is okay.>
<Wait, did you say ‘she’?>
<Yeah? Static is a she, isn’t she?>
<Noooooooooo…> I laughed. <Static is male.>
<Oh, really? I couldn’t tell.> Nova mumbled. I giggled harder. <I didn’t know! He looks kinda effeminate, okay!?> My arms wrapped around my sides as I convulsed with laughter. <Don’t tell him I said that! I was just, um…!> I tried to breath, but my laughter prevented the airflow to my lungs.
<Promise you won’t tell, okay? PROMISE!> I nodded, still in a fit of giggles. |
(Josh POV)
<Was she a shiny? Why are we leaving? JOOOSH, ANSSWWEEERRR MEEEEE!> My annoying Pikachu pestered. <If she was a shiny, that’s like, really rare, right? We should capture her! I could help, you know. I bet->
I ignored him and continued walking. His thoughts buzzed like a tiny insect in my mind.
I felt a twinge in my bladder, and Pikachu stopped. We had similar ideas at once. Ever since our adventure at Sandy’s house,we liked to play hold it games. We hadn’t recently due to Skarr’s disapproval, but now that he was away we could do whatever we wanted. I smiled, and reached into my bad, before realizing there was one other person we needed to consider.
<Hey Nova?> I sat on the calm, summer grass and beckoned to him. He waddled over and looked at me curiously. <Hey, have you ever played any ‘hold-it’ games, Nova?>
<Hold-what?>
<Like, seeing how long you can go without peeing.> I smiled awkwardly at what I knew to be an odd question.
<Sometimes Matilda wouldn’t let me go outside when I needed to pee, but I never did it on purpose.> Nova looked confused. <Is it a game you guys play? Does it hurt?>
<Not really. You don’t have to play if you don’t want to.> I answered. Nova pondered for a moment, before Static interrupted.
<It’s fun, and it’ll be like a little an initiation!> Static interjected, tossing a water bottle at Nova. His throw was less the superb, and the bottle bounced off Nova’s head, causing him to real back and fall. Nova rubbed his head.
<Don’t pressure him.> I scolded Static. He rolled his eyes.
<Can I just watch you guys?> Nova rolled the bottle back to me.
<Yeah, of course.> I nodded to Nova, and he smiled appreciatively. <Standard rules, Pikachu?>
<Yup.> He downed a fourth of the bottle, and I downed half. Charmander watched us anxiously.
--------
Less than an hour later Static and I were both squirming about. I thought I would be at a disadvantage considering I needed to go at the beginning of our little game, but it turns out Static was in a worse condition then I was from the start.
He danced around from foot to foot, occasionally stopping to grab himself. I was a bit more modest, simply standing still with my legs crossed hard, making a large V shape in the crotch of my jeans. I bit my lip.
Out of the corner of my eye I caught charmander drinking from the waterbottle I dropped on the ground. Nova eyed us with interest, sipping from the half-full bottle. I crossed my legs a bit tighter.
“Kaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh…..!” Pikachu exclaimed, bouncing up and down, cluching himself with both hands now. <Needtopee, needtopee, needtopee, needtopee, needtoPEE!>
<Close to losing, Static?> I taunted, uncrossing my legs. I ignored the instant increase in pressure, his expression was worthy of a momentary inconvenience.
<S-shut up!> He kneeled down, squeezing himself for all he was worth. I resumed my crossed legs state. Nova never tore his eyes of Static’s desperation.
<Ah!> He lost control for a moment, and a small stream ran down his midsection. He squeezed himself tighter.
<You still playing?> Static growled in reply.
He continued holding. Static rolled around in the grass, gripping his crotch desperately. After a short time, he jumped up to gain a better position, but lost it on the way.
Pee gushed out of him like a fountain, soaking the grass below. Anger turned to pleasure, as he relaxed when he accepted his loss. He sighed, relieved of the burden. Nova quickly wiped the drool from his mouth.
<Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…> Static thought, as the torrent of pee finally came to an end. <Dang, were you even close to wetting? I don’t care,
that was great…> He fell down on some dry grass, reliving the moment of release in ecstasy.
<I’m close, maybe half an hour.> I groaned, crossing my legs tigher. <It’s for the best; I don’t have any way of washing these. We would have had to use the sea, and that always makes the clothes scratchy and uncomfortable until you can get a fabric softener.>
<It’s SOOOOO worth it though…> Static remarked, still reliving the memory. I smiled.
<Well, to the victor the spoils. I get to go pee!> I dashed to a nearby tree and hid behind it, adjusting myself accordingly. It seemed like the damn zipper was
stuck. Again.
<Wait, YOU get to pee?> Nova thought to me, confused. <Awww, I was looking forward t-, err, I thought you would have to wet too!>
<Nope! That’s the beauty.> After what seemed like an eternity, I managed to wedge the zipper free, and unbutton my boxers. Before I even relaxed, the pee burst out, drenching the tree bark in front of me. The relief was orgasmic, and I let out a moan unintentionally. After a little more than a minute, the stream slowed, and trickled off. I stood there for a moment, reliving the relief.
After the moment had passed, I zipped back up and returned to our little circle. Nova had a wide grin on his face.
<Is it too late to add another member?> Nova looked pleadingly at us.
<Well, if you join now we will have both lost.> Static and I both laughed, but Nova looked disappointed. <You can play against yourself if you want. No clothes to wash, I’ll keep track of the time and how much you drink.>
<Ok!> He grinned, guzzling the rest of his water bottle. I smiled and started my stopwatch. |
<Better?> I asked Static. He stood in the middle of a small crater of charred grass, with a fainted Beedrill collapsed at his sides. He looked up and grinned.
<Yeah.> He smiled mischievously. The trainer returned his fainted Pokemon to its pokeball, and stomped away angrily.
<Just a small walk to Pewter now.> I thought to Static and Nova. <You mind if Nova beats the rest of the wild bugs, Stat? I just want him to get the experience.>
<Yeah, I’m good.> Static responded. <I’m excited for the gym. This’ll really be a test for you Nova. Are you up for it?>
<Y-yeah, I think so.> Nova shuddered, and then looked up at me for reassurance. I nodded my head. <Yeah, I’m ready.>
After a few more battles, we arrived in Pewter City. Static walked confidently by my side, and Nova hugged my leg as we entered the city. Suddenly, someone jumped from behind a tree and smashed into me. In my disorientation I almost lost my balance. I struggled to face my attacker, when I saw her face.
“Hey Sandy!” I laughed and returned her embrace. Static looked bewildered; I had purposely hid this little surprise to see his reaction. Wigglytuff took no time running and hugging the little electrical mouse. Wigglytuff didn’t have her Pokespeak calibrated for me to hear her thoughts, but based on Static’s reactions I could tell he was quite embarrassed, but also happy to see her.
“I’m glad you could make it.” I smiled. “It was one hell of a ride, I wasn’t sure if you could get a flying pokemon in time.”
“Nah, I wouldn’t miss your first badge! Hey, where’s Nova? You were telling me all about him!”
Nova peeked from behind my leg at the mention of his name. He looked up timidly at Sandy, shaking slightly.
“She’s ok, go talk to her!” I told Nova encouragingly. He hesitantly waddled towards Sandy, stopping a few feet away. She approached to pat his head, and he flinched away.
“Timid little guy, isn’t he?” Sandy caught Nova in her arms, and petted the top of his head gently. “Poor guy.”
I nodded. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Static and Wigglytuff wrestling each other, rolling in the grass. I smiled. Nova loved the affection from Sandy, and hugged her leg to show his approval.
Sandy and I talked for a while longer, and Nova stood between us, enjoying our conversation. After awhile, I heard a buzzing sound on my Pokespeak, followed by the re-connection of Static’s mind.
<Can we go to the gym already?> He groaned. I turned to see Wigglytuff sitting triumphantly on the Pikachu, bouncing on his stomach victoriously. <…I let her win…by the way…urggg…>
I giggled at Static’s predicament, and he growled in reply. Sandy shot a congratulatory smile at Wigglytuff, who responded in kind.
“Yeah, alright. Are you guys ready?” Sandy nodded along with Nova. Wigglytuff bounced off Static, causing him to wince. After a second he lifted himself up, and nodded. “Alright, let’s go beat Brock!”
<Better?> I asked Static. He stood in the middle of a small crater of charred grass, with a fainted Beedrill collapsed at his sides. He looked up and grinned.
<Yeah.> He smiled mischievously. The trainer returned his fainted Pokemon to its pokeball, and stomped away angrily.
<Just a small walk to Pewter now.> I thought to Static and Nova. <You mind if Nova beats the rest of the wild bugs, Stat? I just want him to get the experience.>
<Yeah, I’m good.> Static responded. <I’m excited for the gym. This’ll really be a test for you Nova. Are you up for it?>
<Y-yeah, I think so.> Nova shuddered, and then looked up at me for reassurance. I nodded my head. <Yeah, I’m ready.>
After a few more battles, we arrived in Pewter City. Static walked confidently by my side, and Nova hugged my leg as we entered the city. Suddenly, someone jumped from behind a tree and smashed into me. In my disorientation I almost lost my balance. I struggled to face my attacker, when I saw her face.
“Hey Sandy!” I laughed and returned her embrace. Static looked bewildered; I had purposely hid this little surprise to see his reaction. Wigglytuff took no time running and hugging the little electrical mouse. Wigglytuff didn’t have her Pokespeak calibrated for me to hear her thoughts, but based on Static’s reactions I could tell he was quite embarrassed, but also happy to see her.
“I’m glad you could make it.” I smiled. “It was one hell of a ride, I wasn’t sure if you could get a flying pokemon in time.”
“Nah, I wouldn’t miss your first badge! Hey, where’s Nova? You were telling me all about him!”
Nova peeked from behind my leg at the mention of his name. He looked up timidly at Sandy, shaking slightly.
“She’s ok, go talk to her!” I told Nova encouragingly. He hesitantly waddled towards Sandy, stopping a few feet away. She approached to pat his head, and he flinched away.
“Timid little guy, isn’t he?” Sandy caught Nova in her arms, and petted the top of his head gently. “Poor guy.”
I nodded. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Static and Wigglytuff wrestling each other, rolling in the grass. I smiled. Nova loved the affection from Sandy, and hugged her leg to show his approval.
Sandy and I talked for a while longer, and Nova stood between us, enjoying our conversation. After awhile, I heard a buzzing sound on my Pokespeak, followed by the re-connection of Static’s mind.
<Can we go to the gym already?> He groaned. I turned to see Wigglytuff sitting triumphantly on the Pikachu, bouncing on his stomach victoriously. <…I let her win…by the way…urggg…>
I giggled at Static’s predicament, and he growled in reply. Sandy shot a congratulatory smile at Wigglytuff, who responded in kind.
“Yeah, alright. Are you guys ready?” Sandy nodded along with Nova. Wigglytuff bounced off Static, causing him to wince. After a second he lifted himself up, and nodded. “Alright, let’s go beat Brock!” |
(Nova POV)
<Hey guys! It turns out it was just an everstone, so we left it.> Static announced, coming back to the group. His paw was in Wiggllytuff’s once again, so I guess he wasn’t mad at her anymore.
That’s good I guess.
As we advanced, the cave grew darker and colder. The torches were more spread out, and it was really scary. I moved closer to Josh and hugged his leg for comfort.
“Hey, it’s alright.” Josh reached down and rubbed my head. “We’re almost done. We should be out in less than fifteen minutes, I think.”
<I’m scared.> I hugged the cuff of his jeans tighter. What dark Pokemon lurked in these caves? Surely I couldn’t fight them all off, and eventually Static would get tired. What if we got lost? What if this wasn’t the way, and we couldn’t get back? What if we could never see the sun again?
…would we starve to death down here? Would we have to eat each other? What…what if-
Tears brimmed in my eyes as I considered the different possibilities. I tried not to slow josh down too much by holding his leg, but I was so scared…
<Can… can you talk to me Josh? It’s less scary when I hear your voice.>
<Yeah, sure.> Josh answered reassuringly. <What would you like to hear?>
<…Can you tell me a story?>
<Sure. > Josh smiled mysteriously. <Static’s gonna have to help me with this one though.>
<Oh good, I like hearing him talk too.> I smiled.
<Huh? What story?> Static questioned.
<Waaaaay back when…> Josh started. <When I was… how old was I, Stat? Thirteen? Fourteen?>
<I love this one.> Static grinned. <I don’t know, thirteen?>
<Ok, thirteen. Back when I was thirteen, still in middleschool, I was doing->
<Lemme start, lemme start!> Static begged.
<Alright, go for it.> Josh answered.
<Ok, ok, ok.> Static waved his arms around, setting the scene. <Ok. Back when I was wild, I was a part of this big group of Pikachu, right? We would go around and find food and hang out. Finding food wasn’t that hard, because we had this HUUUGE apple orchard where we would hang out. The farmer there was really nice, and he would let us eat his apples if we powered some stuff of his every once in a while. It was a cool arrangement.>
<One day, a rival clan came to our orchard. They were mean to the farmer. Well, not mean, I guess.> Static scratched his ear. <They played pranks on him and stuff. Overload his electronic stuff, and mess with his things. It was kinda sad because he was old and he couldn’t really do anything about it.>
<A lot of other Pikachu though it was funny though. Most elected to stay with the other clan, to play pranks and mess around. I wanted to stay with the old clan, but we had so few members we kind of just fell apart…>
<The farmer started getting mad. He called the police one time, and they caught a few of the Pikachu that had messed with the farmer’s stuff. They sent them really far away in a truck, I don’t know where. The other Pikachu were PIIIIIISSSED. They made it out that humans were at fault, and wanted to do something BIG. Like, not a prank, but actually hurt someone.>
<I tried to talk to them, but at this point, I wasn’t as…um….>
<Strong?> Josh offered.
<…sure, ‘strong’ as I am now. They beat the crap out of me.> Static laughed a bit. <After that, they decided to head to the power station to try to overload it. If they could, it would shut down power for half of the city…>
<Well, I couldn’t do anything. As a lone Pikachu, I tried to make peace with the farmer and stay on his orchard, but he just saw me as another trouble making Pikachu and made me leave…>
<After a while I got really hungry. It was hard, not having a group that you could rely on.> He said sadly. <after not finding any real food for like three days, I headed into the city. I saw a small house with an apple tree near it, and it reminded me of the orchard. I knew I couldn’t stay there, but what could one apple do, right? I was REALLY hungry too. So, I went to grab one.>
<So you can imagine MY surprise,> Josh continued, <Me, a young city kid looking out his window to see a wild Pikachu going to take some of my apples!> He laughed, along with static.
<Right, yeah. So I go up to grab one, and a HUMAN runs out of the house with a broom.> Static giggled. <I had NO idea what to do. I didn’t even know what a broom WAS at this point. I just froze!>
<And I saw him there, looking guilty, about to take an apple…> Josh smiled, <And I noticed he was probably just hungry. You usually see Pikachu in packs, and it was strange seeing one alone. So I picked an apple and handed it to him. I was a bit afraid he would shock me or something->
<Oh, like I would ever shock YOU…> Static thought sarcastically.
<RIGHT.> Josh rolled his eyes. <Anyway, I gave him the apple, and he looked so happy! He ate it right there, in front of me. This was the first time I had ever seen a wild pokemon this close, and it just walked up and ate from my hand! I had had dreams of being a pokemon trainer long before this point, but my parents forbade me to have a pokemon until I had finished schooling…>
<Anyway.> Static interrupted. <So this human just gives me the apple, and I was SO thankful! I mean, he could have hit me with the broom-thing, or like, kicked me out, or called the police like the farmer…> Static sighed happily. <But no, he gave me the apple.>
<So, every once in awhile, this Pikachu would come over, knock on the door like a little human, and ask very politely in his little Pikachu voice for an apple.> Josh laughed. <Or, at least that was what I think he was saying. We didn’t have Pokespeaks yet, so in honesty he could have just been saying something vulgar, and all I would have heard was ‘Pika, pi!!!’>
<No, I was asking for an apple.> Static smirked. <And he would give me one. After a while I found a good source of berries near a river close to the city. I didn’t need to go get apples any more. But I missed my human.> Static smiled, and mouthed ‘my human’ testing the odd words in his mouth.
<So, I went back. I didn’t realize he had school then, so I would just sit on his porch and wait for him. He tried offering me an apple again, but I shook my head and just sat beside him.>
<This continued for a while.> Josh recalled. <Most of the time he just sit on my desk and purr while I petted him during the time I did my homework. I had
to be careful though, if my parents saw me keeping a wild Pokemon in the house, they would FLIP.>
<Other times he would come over and talk a STORM though!>Josh chuckled.
<Oh yeah!> Static remembered. <It was about the new clan!>
<Were you trying to warn me or something?> Josh asked.
<No…> Static admitted. <I was mostly just complaining about them. They were mean.>
Josh smiled and continued. < Anyway, so this continued for awhile, but then there was a CATASTROPHIC power failure all across the city. The Police reported that a group of Pikachu were the culprits, and that they should be captured with any means necessary.>
<We were hunted with GUNS!> Static shouted angrily. <Guns! Can you believe it!?>
<Anyway, it was rough.> Josh interjected. <Once Static found out about it, he ran and hid in my bedroom corner. I knew he didn’t have anything to do with the power failure, because he was with me at the time. Still, harboring a Pikachu at this time was a punishable offense; I could have even gone to jail. Buuuut I kept him safe. It was at this time I used my allowance to by us both Pokespeaks so I could explain the situation to Static so he could understand.>
<So I couldn’t leave, or else they would find and maybe kill me.> Static gulped. <I was a little scared to be staying with a HUMAN, but he treated me really well.> Static purred. <He gave me milk to drink, and apples, and cooked fish to eat!>
<During the search, when Pikachu was on my desk when I was studying, my dad burst in!> Josh recalled, biting his lip. <He glared at the Pikachu, then me, then demanded if this was the Pikachu responsible for the power failure. I said no, and that this Pikachu was innocent. He looked so mad!> Josh shuddered. <He asked if I was taking good care of it, and I said yes…then he patted the Pikachu on the head, and told me not to tell mom.> Josh chuckled.
<After they found the Pikachu responsible for the power surge, they relocated them deep into the wilderness. After that, it became acceptable to have Pikachu again! I trained and got my license, and the rest is history.> Josh smiled, and Static beamed up at him.
‘Someday, I would have an awesome story like that’ I vowed. I noticed I wasn’t holding on to Josh’s leg anymore, and the cave was getting a little bit lighter… |
(Sandy POV)
Nova looked adorable laying in the fresh, Cerulean grass. Static looked over and was apologizing profusely at his accidental rough play, but I assumed Nova wasn’t displeased.
Now that we were out of the cave, we could finally stop walking. I leaned against the outer edge of the cave, thankful to finally be able to cross my legs. My bladder was screaming for release; it took nearly all of my self-control not to grab myself simply out of need.
It would be worth it though. Josh was in a worse state then I was; I noticed him pressing down on himself every few moments, and looking worried. I knew he was determined to beat me, but the way he kept holding himself betray his need.
I rubbed my legs together.
“How can you be standing there so calmly?!” Josh grumbled, pressing down on himself suddenly. “Didn’t you drink the same amount of water I did? I mean, I’m bigger then you, how can you not be as desperate as I am?”
“A cute guy told me that it was about self-control.” I grazed his stomach with my fingernail, causing him to recoil backwards again.
“Augh! Stop it!” He giggled, and crossed his legs hard.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a guy as ticklish as you. Are you really that ticklish, or are you just messing with me?”
“If you poke me again you’ll find out; I’ll make sure to pee all over you!”
“Kinky.” I grinned. Josh growled and focused on not leaking. I poked him once more for good measure, making him howl with laughter and crumple up into a little ball. Satisfied, I turned my attention elsewhere.
Nova was still lying on the grass, but his attention was now focused on Static and Wigglytuff. Wiggly was hopping around more erratically then before, skipping small circles around Static. Static smiled her antics.
<Don’t laugh at me!> Wigglytuff pouted, dancing in circles. Static just grinned wider. <What’s that look for?>
<Just thinking what I wouldn’t give to push on your bladder like last time.>
<S-shut up!>
<You looked so cute, blushing and covering yourself…> Static taunted.
<That was really embarrassing Static, that’s not funny!> Wigglytuff barked. Static smiled sheepishly, staring at Wiggly’s antics. <I’ll make you pee yourself and we’ll see how funny it is!>
<That would be cheating.> Static smiled. Wigglytuff looked at Josh and I, and pointed an accusatory finger at us.
<They’re doing it!>
<’They’?> Josh muttered weakly. <I think one person out of the two of us is being falsely accused.> Suddenly his eyes grew wide, and he slammed his hand against his groin. From his position on the ground I could see him bouncing ever so slightly.
<How’re ya doing down there Josh?> I mocked.
“…Lovely.” He whispered through gritted teeth. His hand had not moved, and his legs had also crossed at the knee. Seeing someone desperate in real life was such a different experience… knowing he was minutes away from wetting himself, already struggling so hard…
I tried to curb such thoughts for the sake of my Poke-speak, but I couldn’t resist. Instead I just turned it to private with only Josh included.
Seeing Josh in such a state only added to my own desperation. I grinded my legs together to help ease the overworked muscles keeping my urine from pouring out. Another wave of desperation hit me and I doubled over, but I kept my gaze on Josh. I didn’t want to miss a second.
Josh mumbled something under his breath and tightened his grip. He slowly pushed himself to standing, all the while keeping one hand firmly planted on the fork of his legs. I feigned another poke and he instantly flinched away.
“What’s wrong?” I purred. “I just wanted to hold your hand…!”
“Should have asked sooner then…” He grumbled. I smiled and walked closer, placing one hand innocently on his stomach. He shuddered.
“Whaaaaat?” I smiled devilishly. “Don’t you trust me?” Josh’s back was against the outer cave wall, pinned with my hand dangerously close to his bladder.
He looked around in a moment of panic, before his eyes met mine, with a pleading glance.
“Y-yeah, I trust you.”
“Liar!”
“No, really, I trust you completely.”
“Well, you shouldn’t.” I drove my finger across his stomach, and he howled with laughter. Both of his hands now pressed down on himself in a desperate act to remain in control. I grabbed one of his hands and tugged it away from him, placing it on my hip. I could hear a hissing sound accompanied by Josh grimacing, then staring exasperated at me, but grinning nonetheless.
“Damnit.” He laughed, as the inside of his jeans changed dark blue. The small spot on his crotch was now much more noticeable, and the hand he was holding himself with now hung limply in front of him in defeat.
“You cheated.” Josh smiled, blushing as his pants grew darker. I crossed my legs.
“How so?”
“Like this!” Josh grabbed me by the waist and whirled me around so that I faced the cave wall, then pressed on my bladder roughly. I yelped as my pressure increased, and my hands dove to my jeans. I slid down the cave wall to avoid further of Josh’s torment, but not far enough.
He pressed on me again, this time not letting up as easily. I tensed, my fingers crammed in-between my legs, refusing to give up.
“Aaaah, stop! That’s not fair!” I whined. He grinned, bouncing his hand on my bladder once more. I felt a quick spurt escape, but I wasn’t sure if it was enough to be noticeable.
He pressed again, and another leak squirted out. This time it was definitely noticeable, with both my pants getting fairly wet and the small cry that escaped my lips. I knew if he pressed one more time I couldn’t hold it.
“Aaaah, come on, you’re a better sport then me right!?” I felt another spurt release despite lack of provocation, causing me to tremble.
“Debatable.” He smiled evilly, pushing down on me one last time. There was nothing I could do as the final, uncontrollable leak burst out of me, soaking the front of my jeans, and the grass around where I sat. I sighed in relief, but growled at Josh as he grinned at my pleasure.
“I still beat you.” I growled.
“I still won, as far as I’m concerned.” He said, staring at my darkening jeans. I stood up causing the pee to rush down my legs, and grabbed his shirt, tugging him closer, and kissed him with my angry passion.
“Call it a tie.” |
(Nova POV)
As soon as she reappeared, she gnashed her teeth in Josh’s direction. Her black fur stood on end, and her red eyes gleamed in anger and fear.
<Well, giving her the Pokespeak now might end in a few stitches. Can you talk to her Nova, try to calm her into chatting with me?> Josh asked me politely.
<Y-yeah, sure.> I answered hesitantly. I swallowed my fear, and turned toward the strange new Pokemon.
“H-hi…there.” I gulped. The Zorua paid no attention to me, and continued growling at Josh. “You know, he’s not too bad of a guy actually. He’s a really nice trainer. The worst thing he’s ever done is sneeze on me once, and even that was on accident. Plus it was my fault because I was standing to close.”
The Zorua stopped glaring at Josh and turned to give me a puzzled look.
“Well, we were in a cave, and it was pretty musky, right?” I continued.
“Shut up.” She replied curtly.
“Okay.” I turned away sheepishly, and she continued to glare at Josh without trust. “Oh, um, I almost forgot. Can you plug something in your ear really quick?”
“What?!”
“Yeah, there’s this little device the humans made that lets us talk better with this little chip-”
“Oh my gosh they’ve BRAINWASHED YOU!” The Zorua said in fright, “That explains why you can’t shut up!”
“Hey, stop it. I’m not brainwashed, I can do whatever I want. You’re being mean. Josh just wants to talk, just let him put the thing in your ear.”
“Never. I’ll place it in my own ear to hear his TERMS, but only after you prove you’re not just his brainwashed slave.”
I opened my mouth to prove myself, then quietly shut it. What could I say that would prove I wasn’t brainwashed? I mean, I know I’m not brainwashed, but how could I prove it? I looked down at the grass confused.
<Hey Josh?> I asked after a moment, <How can I prove I’m not brainwashed?>
He chuckled for a moment. <Ummmmm…I don’t know. Tell her something only a Charmader would know.>
“Ok ok ok, I got it!” I turned back to her, and she gave me a disinterested stare. “Did you know Charmander generally aren’t good swimmers?”
“You’re an idiot…but at least you aren’t brainwashed. If you were, you would have come up with something better than that…plus I suppose I’m really out of options with you and the yellow mouse on his side.” She sighed. “Tell him to toss the device by my side, and do his worst.”
“It won’t hurt, I promise!” I said.
“I’m sure.” She muttered, giving me a disbelieving look. I shrugged.
<Hey Josh, can you toss the Pokespeak to her? She doesn’t trust you enough yet for you to do it. She’s pretty scared, and also a little bit mean to be honest…>
<Yeah, sure.> He reached into his pocket to grab the device, and tossed the Pokespeak onto the ground next to Zorua. She sniffed it cautiously before taking it in her paw. Cringing, she placed it onto her ear, where it clipped in place.
<There!> Josh thought triumphantly. <That wasn’t so hard, right Zorua?>
<AAUAUUUUUGH! How are you speaking to me?!> She placed her paws over her head in terror, shuttering horrendously.
<Relax, it’s just a machine that lets us talk. That’s all. I just want to talk for now.>
<…normally…I am not allowed to speak to other leaders that are not my own…> The Zorua whispered cautiously into Josh’s and my mind.
<Why?> Josh asked curiously.
<We are lead by our strongest member. She is the one that creates the largest illusions, and speaks for our clan in times of hardship or trouble.>
<Where is she?>
<She is…not here.> The Zorua bowed mournfully. <I became separated from the pack. I was growing powerful, and the leader of the clan noticed I was becoming of age for evolution. She made me hold a strange stone. I don’t know why, and I could be wrong…> She looked aside in disgust. <I shouldn’t be talking about my leader at all. I should show nothing but honesty for what she has done for our clan. Rumors break strong ties, and I have no evidence to support my claims.>
<What do you think happened?> Josh pried. The Zorua shot Josh an angry expression, then returned to a mournful state.
<I think…she may have tossed me into a bag and threw me on a boat.> She glanced to the side, as if trying to appear more noble then her statement entailed. <She prepared my food as she did all the others, and she may have given me a mixture of something to put me in a deep rest. I could be wrong of course…but she was the only one of our kind capable of pulling off such a feat. Plus, I believe I heard her laughing…>
<That’s terrible!> Josh exclaimed, <How did you escape?>
<Well, I awoke tied inside the bag. It took hours of chewing, but eventually I tore myself a whole and freed myself. By then, all I could see was the ocean…>
<Was it scary?> I asked, shuddering as I pictured all that water.
<Yes. But the vastness of the ocean did not stir my fears, rather it was the thought I would be without my clan. We Zorua are not solitary creatures…we survive and thrive in the company of others. Once I escaped, I managed to steal some human food at one of their gatherings using an illusion. It was never enough, and even now I crave nourishment. I was never trained how to hunt, that duty fell on others in the tribe. I was trained on how to fend off other Pokemon and humans with illusions and attacks…
…without a leader, I fear I may not have much place in this world.>
<You have Josh!> I pointed out. The Zorua shot a frustrated look at me, and I shrunk back.
<Hey, he’s right you know!> Josh grinned. <Technically, if leadership in your tribe is founded by strength, I am in procession of four different Pokemon, yourself included. If you choose to join me->
<Choose?> She interrupted. <Don’t kid me human, I have no choice.>
Josh picked up the Ultraball that belonged to the Zorua. At the push of a button, no matter where you were, that Ultraball held your signature, your DNA, who you really were. No matter where you were, you would be sent back into that ball, and placed into a stasis until summoned once again by the ball. It was a scary concept, but Josh never abused it.
Josh held up Zorua’s Ultraball. <Do you understand what this is, Zorua?>
<Of course.> She hissed, <Do not take me for a fool. Even wild Pokemon understand the role of that human technology. While it is still intact->
Josh suddenly opened the ball, and smashed the hinge against his knee. The ball snapped in half, and the circuits sparked, and then remained still. Zorua stared at Josh in confusion.
<The choice is yours.> Josh spoke honestly.
<You would allow me to escape?> The Zorua looked at him in befuddlement.
<Yes.> Josh nodded.
<Truly?>
<Yes.> Josh confirmed. The Zorua looked at him once more in confusion, and took one step back. Then another. She turned to look back at Josh.
<…Why should I stay?> She inquired.
<Life of adventure, name written in glory as a long term goal.> Josh grinned. <But in the short term, food every day, company, and friends. Rest on a regular basis, and you can survive without having to resort to thievery.>
The Zorua looked down into the grass, deep in thought. <Y…you make a tempting offer. Food…I can handle myself, although it is hard. Company of honest individuals, even humans…seems much more of a tangible reward. We were never meant to be solitary creatures, and it’s been terribly lonely…but…> She hesitated. <Loyalty is priced above all else in our society. I…I can’t just turn on my leader, we’re not allowed….>
<You never turned on your leader.> Josh pointed out, <She turned on you. You had no say, and in fact, were loyal to the end.>
She sat on the grass, thinking about Josh’s words. <We are always loyal. It is the bonds that make our clan strong. Although I have been cast aside, that loyalty still resides in me, and if you graciously took me into your tribe, I would of course show the same loyalty to you, my new leader. Would you accept me?> Her red eyes gleamed, no longer tainted by fear or anger.
<I shall.> Josh grabbed another Ultraball out of his pack, bowing solemnly. He pressed the ultraball lightly on the Zorua’s forehead, and she disappeared into a beam of red light.
<So…did we do it?> I asked Josh hesitantly.
<I guess so!> he smiled. <Couldn’t have done it without you!>
<Thanks…!> I beamed.
<You know what you have to do now of course…>
<What?> I asked, confused.
<Now we have to think of a name.> He grinned, <’Black Hole’ doesn’t fit her nearly as much as ‘Nova’ does for you.>
I smiled at his joke, and we walked down the trail, discussing what we would do next for the day. |
(Nova POV)
<So…now what?> I asked. <It’s getting lateish…are we still going to the Gym tonight?> I asked.
<Hah, I forgot to ask our most recent party member. Let’s do it!> Josh tossed the Ultraball into the air, and it released a disoriented Zorua.
<That’s going to take some getting use to…> She winced, glancing in my direction. She turned and noticed Josh, and suddenly stood up straighter. <Why did you revive me, Josh?>
<Oh, I just wanted to ask you something.> Josh answered. Zorua stood at attention, waiting for Josh’s question. <Um, do you know what a Pokemon Gym is?>
<Vaguely.> She answered. <It similar to a competition, where humans and Pokemon battle for amusement, correct?>
<…Somewhat, yeah. Pokemon battle alongside trainers for badges, which prove our skills. With enough badges, a trainer can challenge the Pokemon League. If they win, they will be forever remembered as one of the best of the best, and will be famous all around the world. Very few succeed. This is my dream, along with static, my Pikachu whom you met earlier, and Skarr, my Skarmorry.>
I waited for him to say my name, but he never did. Why didn’t he include me?
<You quest for a valiant goal.> The Zorua spoke softly.
<Do you wish to join it?> Josh asked. <I will expect the best from you, and training will not always be fun. If you decline, you may still be part of the party. Not everyone has to enjoy battling, and even if it makes you uneasy, you are still welcome. Nova I’m sure will vouch that, although battling makes him uncomfortable, we still have fun together.>
‘I…what?’ I thought with shock and disappointment. I mean, originally I was scared, but hadn’t I changed since I beat the rock gym? Didn’t my battle with the big Onix change anything? I wanted to believe in his dream as much as the others…did he not believe in me? Tears brimmed in my eyes, and I turned away.
<Yes!> The Zorua spoke confidently, <I shall earn my place by making you proud in battle!>
<Excellent. I know it’s late, but the Gym is still open. Would you like to grab a bite to eat, then go to the Gym?>
<Absolutely! I’m glad I have such an early opportunity to earn my keep.> She bowed.
<Awesome! How about you, Nova? Are you still up for your second gym battle?>
I quickly wiped away the tears from my eyes, and turned back to Josh. <Y-yeah, definitely!>
<Alright!> Josh exclaimed, not noticing my prior demeanor. <and of course, if something happens, we’ll have static to back us up.> He smiled reassuringly.
‘You mean, if I fail…’ I thought glumly, but just nodded.
<Alright! Let’s be off!>
---
We sat down at the restaurant and started eating, but I wasn’t hungry. Zorua ate a lot, and Josh enjoyed his food, but I wasn’t hungry. I was sad…I wanted to talk to Josh in private, but he didn’t need that right now…he was happy. Why didn’t he trust me? Was I not good enough, was I not the Pokemon he wanted?
…Was I not the Pokemon he was looking for a Matilda’s adoption house, and he found me by accident…?
I accidentally hiccupped with a sob before regaining my composure. Josh shot me a curious look.
<J-just eating too fast, sorry.> I lied.
<Really? You’ve barely eaten. Are you sure you’re not hungry?>
<Yeah, I’m fine…>
Once the rest of the food came, Josh released Static to enjoy thimself, and to introduce himself more formally to Zorua. After Static yelped at Josh a bit for not letting him order his own food, everyone got along nicely. Even Static behaved himself around Zorua, and we all sat and joked, and had a pleasant conversation.
…well, all of us that mattered, I guess. I didn’t talk much…
<Oh, hey!> Static thought, mouth full of the spaghetti he didn’t order, <Zorua, we need to name you! It’s weird saying ‘Zorua’ this and ‘she-slash-her’ that. Something like, dark shadowy and illusiony.>
<If you care, I already possess a name.> She glanced at Static, who was covered in spaghetti meat sauce.
<Oh? Well, tell us then!>
<Par’thguanji.>
We all looked around at each other for a moment in moderate insecurity before returning our gaze to her.
<Um, sorry, I didn’t catch that. Can you repeat it?>
< Par’thguanji.> She repeated. <It has a special meaning in our tongue.>
Josh gulped. <Well, then I guess you have a name. Welcome to the group, um, ‘Par’thguanji’.>
Static laughed. <Yeeaaaah, that’s not happening, we’re gonna have to shorten that. How about ‘Parr’ or ‘Guan’ or something?>
<Static, that’s rude.> Josh reprimanded. <Zor-> He coughed. < Par’thguanji, what does your name symbolize?>
<It means red eyes. Most of our kind possess blue, and seeing eyes of my distinction is rare. There are tales of blue furred Zorua with red eyes, but none with red eyes and red and black fur. Thus, I was named Par’thguanji, Red Eyes.>
<Sheesh, that’s a mouthful. Didn’t they shorten it, or anything?> Static whined.
<Static, be polite. If she wants to be called her name, then that’s what we’ll do.> Josh stated.
<Well, I mean, that was my name back in the tribe. Perhaps I should be re-named as I join a new group? As a kind of indoctrination?> Zorua pondered.
<Well, we don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but if you’re okay with it, sure. Do you have any idea, guys? Maybe, like Rose?> Josh chimed.
Static thought for a moment. <What about Cherry?>
<How about Myst?> I blurted out. Everyone turned to stare at me, and I felt self-conscious, so I added
<Because, you know, her illusions and stuff.>
<That doesn’t have anything to do with red eyes.> Static retorted. < I was thinking of, like you know, something RED. Like ‘Scarlet’ or ‘Ruby’ or->
<Well I like it.> The Zorua smiled at me, making me feel a little better. <’Myst’. It sounds mysterious and charming.>
<Would you like us to call you that, then?> Josh asked the small Zorua. <Is that the name you want?>
<Yeah. Myst. I like that.> Myst smiled.
<Alright then! Myst, Static, Nova, are you ready to conquer the gym?>
<Yeah!> Static and Myst cheered, raising their paws high. I raised my paw as well, but didn’t cheer like they did. Josh didn’t notice.
<Alright then! Let’s-> Josh almost completed his statement, then noticed the condition of Static’s face. <-hold on a sec, let me get a napkin.>
<What?> Static questioned. Josh grabbed a napkin off another table and sat back down in his chair, facing Static.
<Hold still.> Josh commanded Static, holding his head in one hand, and the napkin in the other.
<Hey!> Static cried in annoyance. <Stop, ack, quit, quit! I can do it myself!>
<No you can’t.> Josh laughed, wiping off Static’s face. <Hold still, would you?>
<No! Stop, I’ll shock you! Seriously, don’t test me, I will! Quit!> Static yelped as Josh cleaned the rest of the spaghetti sauce off Static’s face.
<There. All done.> Josh smirked.
Static growled with dismay. <Can we leave yet? Or are you not finished mutilating my face?>
<Oh Static, I couldn’t do anything to make your face look any more hideous.>
<HEY!> |
(Hi everyone! My editor and I have been working hard to give you guys a special treat this holiday season ~, so I hope you enjoy a bit longer of a post then I usually type. Thanks to all my loyal fans for your support and feedback. Cheers for much more to come! :3)
(Nova POV)
“Go, Voltorb!” the giant man yelled, releasing a strange red and white spherical Pokemon.
“You ready for this, Ssstatic?” Josh hissed Static’s name. I glanced back at Josh to suddenly see two Pikachu by his side. Both perfectly resembled Static. One of the Statics noticed my confusion, and winked at me; their eyes suddenly becoming ruby red. That static turned his attention back to Josh, and his eyes melded back into electric blue.
“Voltorb, use swift!” The electric gym leader commanded. The Voltorb swiveled back, and glowing white stars sparked into existence around it and gleamed.
“Ssstatic!” Josh grinned, “Use Dark Pulse!”
One of the Statics rushed forward, cheeks exuding what appeared to be black electricity. The Static crouched down and focused, then extended his arms suddenly, releasing a wave of the black lightning. The wave zoomed across the stage, and smashed into the Voltorb, bathing it in an eerie black glow.
The wave of electricity crashed against the Voltorb, and it rolled across the stage unconscious.
<Impressive.> Josh complimented the Static as the Gym leader returned his fainted Pokemon to its pokeball.
<You should expect nothing less, my liege.> The static bowed back at Josh; his eyes glowing ruby red once more, highlighting his cautious grin.
<Excellent work nonetheless. Let’s give Nova a try, shall we?> Josh hummed. <Nova, you ready?>
Don’t screw it up, don’t screw it up, don’t screw it up, don’t screw it up!
<D-definitely!> I stuttered.
<Alright!> Josh turned and pointed to the gym leader. <Prepare an ember attack on his next Pokemon!>
I sucked in a deep breath and waited for the gym leader to make a move. The gym leader thought for a moment, then reached for the second Pokeball on his belt. As soon as his Pikachu appeared on the field, I fired my ember attack.
“Sparks! Dodge with double team!” The man ordered. The Pikachu in front of me stared wide-eyed at my ember attack for only a second, then duplicated and ran around me in opposite directions. My ember attack sailed harmlessly between the both of them.
I missed my first attack! Josh already thinks I’m useless, now what am I…
<Nova!> Josh called out, <Only one Pikachu makes a sound. Figure out which, and use Ember!>
I frantically tried to focus as the two Pikachu raced around me. They both moved in sync, but only the one on the left’s paws made a sound against the polished gym floor. I took a quick breath and prepared to attack, but the Pikachu on the right was faster. He noticed my preparations for an attack, and charged at me with full speed.
‘What do I do!?’ I thought hastily. Josh gave me no instruction! I could still brace myself for the Pikachu’s impact, or maybe I could even still hit it with ember. But wait… was that what I was supposed to do? The Pikachu Josh told me to hit was still standing on my left, preparing a thunderbolt attack…
Making a split second decision, I fired instead at the left Pikachu. The Pikachu on the right continued his dive, but passed harmlessly though me. Just an illusion! The Pikachu on the left (the only one now remaining) noticed my ember, and accidentally dodged directly in its path. Direct hit! My attack slammed into the Pikachu on its back, and it slid along the floor.
“Hrrrr…Kah!” The Pikachu shouted, using the momentum of my attack to flip itself back on his paws.
“Sparks, use Quick Attack!” The large man shouted. The Pikachu glanced at me, and moved WAY faster than I thought possible, and slammed into me, knocking me to the ground.
“Chaaaa…” I coughed, back smashing along the gym floor. I sat up dazed, and looked for the Pikachu.
<Nova, use Ember!> Josh called out
<Where is he!?> I yelped, eyed darting across the gym.
<Right in front-> The Pikachu suddenly slammed into me, sending me airborne across the gym. The Gym’s scenery flew and twisted around me, and I noticed Josh upside-down. How high was I!? Landing badly would hurt a lot…
I leaned to my left, and curled myself in a ball trying to get my feet matching where I wanted them with the floor. With an “Oof” I managed to land on my main legs, though I had to steady myself with a paw.
‘DID I JUST DO A FLIP?’ I thought incredulously to myself. ‘Did Josh see that!?’
“Kah!” The Pikachu snapped, sending me back into the mind frame of that battle. The Pikachu dashed at me, but all too slowly now that I saw its strategy. I took a deep breath, aimed appropriately, and my ember attack send the Pikachu reeling.
It didn’t get back up.
‘I did it! That wasn’t an easy battle, but by the end I was TOTALLY won!
Hot blood seared in my veins as I awaited my next opponent. I knew I wouldn’t be felted this day, and warm fire empowered my chest. I would prove to Josh that I wasn’t just a weakling or a pet, and that I valued his dream just as much as-
<Nice work, Nova. Myst, are you ready for the grand finish?>
“Kah!” Static cheered in approval.
…Wait, what? Why was he calling me back? I got hit, but I’m still okay. I can still do this…I wanted to fight! I did the flip and everything! I knew which clone to hit! I…didn’t I do everything right? Why didn’t he trust me? Josh…
I slumped back to the sidelines with Myst as Static charged into battle, waiting for his next opponent.
Did…did I not do well enough? I tried my best…
…am…am I just not good enough?
---
<Myst, are you ready to finish this!?> Josh asked enthusiastically.
<Absolutely.> A Charmander that wasn’t me rushed onto the battlefield. How did Myst even do that? She matched everything about me perfectly…to my dark blue eyes, my light orange coat, even the scar on my left paw…
The only thing she didn’t have was my insecurity.
“Last Pokemon. Gotta make it count, eh?” The large, gruff man spoke, reaching for his last pokeball. “Go, Raichu!”
A Raichu materialized from out of the red light. It looked...old. Much of its fur was gray and discolored, and it had a collection of scars across its body, and there were some patches on its body that fur didn’t cover. Despite this, he looked energetic and strong. He turned and gave the gym leader a sharp nod of approval before starting down at Myst.
<Rai!> He cried, cheeks sparking with electricity.
“Raichu, use thunder!” The gym leader roared.
<Myst, Dark Pulse!> Josh thought hastily.
Myst, in my form, drew a quick breath mimicking my ember attack. Instead of my normal meager flames however, a black flamethrower blasted out of her mouth and bashed itself against the Raichu. The Raichu reared back in anger, and prepared his counter.
As they fought, I couldn’t help but feeling …
Lost. Alone...
Why wasn’t I the one fighting? I mean, I was I guess, but just as Myst’s illusion. Not the real me. The real me was just standing here…
I wished I was Myst’s illusion. I wish I was brave and strong, a person Static and Myst could rely upon in battles, and the kind of Pokemon Josh wanted…
…because Josh didn’t want me. Josh wanted the Charmander in the fight, the bold and powerful Charmander fighting. Just the illusion…
Tears burned again in my eyes as the fight continued. I wasn’t mad at Myst, or even upset at her. She was just doing what Josh wanted, giving him the Pokemon he wanted in battle. The illusion showed what should have been. The strong Charmander by Josh’s side…
I should have been the illusion…
---
(Josh POV)
The Raichu reeled back from Myst’s attack, but it hadn’t fallen yet. The Raichu’s cheeks crackled angrily with electricity as he prepared his next attack.
<Raiii!> He shouted, blasting Myst with a deafening roar of electricity. Myst’s illusion of Nova disintegrated upon impact, and the small black fox flew into the air, and crashed onto the floor immobile.
“MYST!” I shouted in shock. Had that attack truly knocked her out with a single hit? I thought my calculations were perfect; she shouldn’t have fainted from-
<I’m still very much conscious, master.> Myst thought calmly in my mind. <Sorry for the façade, gut reaction, play dead. I suppose my kind isn’t one for ‘honorable fighting’.> She chuckled in my mind. <Shall I get up?>
<Hah.> I smiled with pleasant surprise. <Clever, I wouldn’t have thought of that. No, stay there for a second.>
<As you wish.>
“Send out your next Pokemon!” Lt. Surge boomed across the gym.
“Why, when my previous pokemon hasn’t fainted?” I asked him aloud. Confusion crossed the gym leader’s face before he realized the meaning of my words. “Myst, use Dark Pulse!”
“Zah!” The small Zorua hopped nimbly to her feet, and fired a black wave upon the flat-footed Raichu. It wheeled around in surprise before getting smashed by the attack and falling to the ground unconscious.
“Hmph.” The gym leader growled in grudging defeat.
<Nice work Myst!> I lowered my hand, and she ran over to meet my lower the usual high-five. She grinned, pleased to have met my approval. <You too, Nova! You handled that Pikachu nicely!> Nova turned to me and smiled appreciatively, but something didn’t seem quite right. His eyes were a bit red…had he been crying?
I made myself a mental note to ask him about it later, in private.
<Anyway, you were all awesome.> I grinned, eyeing Nova and Myst. I heard a growl behind me, and turned to see Static rolling his eyes.
<Okay fine Static, you’re NOT awesome. Better?> I thought sarcastically. He grinned and jumped on my shirt, clawing his way up my clothes and perching himself on my shoulder.
<Absolutely NOOOOT.> He laughed. <Come on, get the badge and let’s go get smoothies.>
I grinned at Static’s comment, and approached Lt. Surge. He begrudgingly handed over the badges, muttering something about the ‘fairness’ of battles, and how one shouldn’t play tricks.
I turned to leave, but my darker half got the better of me, and I turned around just before walking out the door.
“I thought all was fair in love and WAR?” I grinned, and swiveled back around. I could faintly hear Lt. Surge cursing my name as I laughed, and left the gym.
---
(Josh POV)
<…I think I’m sick.>
I turned to Static, surprised. Static never had gotten sick before, especially with his frequent trips to the Pokemon Centers. Sure enough, he held his banana smoothie in one hand, and rubbed his presumable runny nose with the other. I took a small sip of my fusion smoothie.
<What do you mean?> I inquired.
<I dunno…> Static mumbled quietly. <I just sick…OF THESE WEAK ASS BIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTCHHEEESSS!> He grinned wildly, jumped on my back. <COME ON, Josh! When are we gonna fight a REAL gym, where I can show them what I’M made of!?>
I rolled my eyes. <Get off me, Stat.> I laughed, trying to catch the Pikachu clawing all over my back.
<Right away, doctor!> Static jumped off of me. <Need anything else? Defibrillator, stethoscope? I’ll get it, ‘Stat’!>
I groaned at his pun. <See, everyone, this is why we don’t give Static sugar after ten P.M.> Myst laughed, and I could just hear Nova snicker quietly. I wonder what happened in the battle today with Nova…was he not use to getting hit in battle? Perhaps I placed him too quickly into a battle where he wasn’t ready. I would talk to him later, and make sure he was okay.
The road forked ahead of us. The way I intended to go was to the Pokemon Center to rent rooms for the night. The other path took us on the road to Celadon City, through a small forest of trees. I stopped for a moment.
<Hey guys, originally I was going to rent us rooms at the Pokemon Center, but would you guys rather take the path and get a few more miles in before we call it a night?>
<Sure!> Static called out. <We have a few more hours to burn of daylight, right?> Everyone synchronized an eye roll at the yellow mouse, as the sun had set hours ago.
I thought I felt a brush of Myst’s consciousness against my own, but it was gone an instant from when it started.
<We’re you going to say something, Myst?> I asked.
<…It’s not important, never mind.> She shook her head, disregarding the thought.
<Feel free to speak up, it’s your guy’s call.>
She gulped. <N-normally, as followers, it is disrespectful for us to voice our opinions of the best course of action. The leader simply makes the decision for us, and we follow in our leader’s footsteps. My opinion doesn’t matter.>
<Of course your opinion matters! Even if I didn’t ask for it, I would still value your input in any situation.> I explained.
Myst shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. <A-are you sure? Normally I would be reprimanded for this…>
<Of course. Speak your mind!>
<Well, um…> Myst muttered, <I would…prefer…the woods. In the future I’m sure I will become more accustomed to human architecture, but for now I would prefer the safety of the outdoors…>
<Okay, that’s one vote for the outdoors. Anyone else?>
---
(Nova POV)
<Anyone else?> Josh called out, looking at us. Static piped up.
<Yeah, you’re crazy Myst. Humans have SUPER comfy beds and stuff. I would prefer the Pokemon Center.>
<Oooh, one to one. Wanna break the tie, Nova?> Josh looked at me expectantly. I felt a paw nudge my side, and turned to see Myst staring quietly at me. Her eyes were no longer angry or filled with annoyed sarcasm. They were glistening, almost…
…pleading?
<I kinda want to get to Celadon.> I chose. Static grumbled, and took an angry sip of his smoothie.
Josh shrugged his shoulders, and headed into the forest. <To Celadon, then!>
<Thanks…> Myst thought just to me.
<No problem.> I responded. <Are you…okay?>
<Of course.> She stood up at attention. <Why wouldn’t I be?>
<Just wondering.> I quietly sipped my blueberry smoothie.
Myst nudged me again, and made a motion to her smoothie, which I held. Since she couldn’t hold it on her own (because she had to use all four of her paws to walk) I offered to carry hers. I lowered my paw, and she sipped some of the green, kiwi liquid.
<Why did you ask?> She pondered as she drank some of the smoothie, pawing it awkwardly as she walked.
<Wondering, I guess.> I shrugged and looked away.
<Are YOU okay?>
<…yeah.> I lied. After not hearing anything for a moment, I turned around to see myself staring back. I jumped back startled. The clone of myself looked at me with sad, forlorn eyes…did I look like that?
<Do you want some of my smoothie?> My clone offered, elegantly offering me the green drink with its paw. I squinted back in confusion.
<How are you doing that?> I asked Myst. <How can you holding the smoothie in that pose.>
<..A lot…of…balance...> The clone of me shakily responded. <Q-quick, before I fall!>
I quickly grabbed the smoothie from what looked like my outstretched hand, but I knew must have been Myst’s two front paws.
<Heh, another second and I would’ve fallen.> My copy grinned. It looked at me with my dark blue eyes, and resumed its sad, faraway look.
<…Stop doing that.> I insisted.
<Doing what?>
<The thing…with my eyes.>
<I don’t know what you mean; I’m just copying you.>
<No you’re not, I’m f-fine.>
“I’m f-fine.” My image before me spoke in my own tongue. He stuttered when he said ‘fine’, and looked as if he was on the edge of tears. Did I really look that weak?
<Stop it!> I shouted, louder then I meant. Myst’s illusion dissolved immediately, and was replaced by the normal image of her, looking concerned.
<Come on. What’s wrong, really?>
<I don’t…want to talk about it.> My thoughts shook as I attempted to stave off tears. I turned back to Myst, and noticed she had once again copied my form. Unlike previous times though, my copy had Myst’s dark red eyes, and her intrigued, coy smile.
<Nova,-> She began. <-what is the difference between thieves and a thief?>
Her question caught me off guard. <Um…one is just…one, and the other is a bunch?>
<Close, but there’s more.> My clone answered. <With one thief, they rely upon themselves to survive and thrive. The only safety net is themselves. Their wit and skill.>
<What about thieves?> I ask, now intrigued.
<They don’t have to rely just upon themselves. They have a collection, a family if you will, that secures their safety and shield’s them from danger.
Suddenly, the thief doesn’t have to rely just upon themselves anymore.>
I reflected on this for a moment.
<My point is…> My clone continued, <…that you’re not in this alone. I’m sorry I was snarky earlier, but what could you expect from a cornered thief?> My clone grinned sheepishly. <…but honestly, Josh has proven himself to be a competent leader. Static has demonstrated his strength, and you have demonstrated your will. I’m sure you don’t trust me yet, I mean, you have no reason to…> My clone looked away awkwardly. <But, I’m sure eventually I will earn your trust. And I just, I guess I want you to know that. Whatever’s wrong, you have a team to help you through it. And as part of the team, I’ll be here to help as well.>
<T-thanks.> I looked at the ground. That’s really all I wanted, just to be a part of the team. To have someone there to rely on, and that could rely on me. Static didn’t need anyone but Josh, and I wasn’t sure about Myst yet…
…and Josh made it clear I wasn’t a part of the team. Not because I couldn’t rely on others, but because others couldn’t rely on me.
<Do you want to talk?> My clone asked once more. By the tenor of her tone, I could tell this would be the last time she would ask.
<I…it’s just…> My voice cracked in my mind as tears blurred my vision. <J-josh doesn’t want me. He picked me, but only because I was the last choice, and he’s a good guy, and he saw how Matilda->
<Wait, wait, wait.> I saw a blurry myself with a bewildered expression with paws raised. <Josh doesn’t want you? What are you talking about?>
<You see how he treats you and Static…> I sobbed quietly. <He always expects the best out of you guys. With me in battle today, he just took me back…I still could have fought…P-plus, what he said when he was introducing us to you…>
<What do you mean?>
<He said I wasn’t part of his dream.> I was balling at this point. <Static and Skarr were a part of it, and now you’re a part of it…but he never said me…
…the only time I’ll ever be a part of his dream is when you’re copying my shape.> I cried, turning sharply away from the bewildered version of myself. A shadow suddenly loomed over me, and I looked up to see Josh looking concerned.
---
<Nova?> He asked hesitantly. Myst nudged me forward, and looked at me expectantly.
<Talk to him.> She encouraged me. I bowed ashamed, and couldn’t help but cry. Josh bend down on his knees to look me in the eyes.
<Nova, what happened?> he asked, voice full of genuine concern.
<N-nothing.> I responded, stuttering even in my thoughts. I was so insecure. I wish he would just leave me alone, I didn’t want this attention. Everyone stared at me, and I felt lost. <Nothing, I’m fine!>
<No you’re not. Come on. I’ll carry you.> Josh picked me up under the arms, and draped me over his shoulder as we walked to Celadon. I felt like I was being disrespectful…wasn’t Josh’s shoulder Static’s spot? I tried to wiggle free, but Josh held me firmly in place.
<When you’re ready, I’ll be here.> Josh thought stubbornly. I struggled a bit more against his hold, then finally accepted defeat and relaxed. My head draped itself on his chest, and my feet bumped against his back as he walked.
A few more tears fell along the path as we walked in silence. I was exhausted. I felt my eyes start to close themselves as Josh kept walking, seemingly oblivious to the burden I must have been. Eventually my mind betrayed me, and I fell asleep as the night went on.
When I awoke, I was already in my sleeping bag. It was still night, and I noticed Josh sitting quietly on his sleeping bag watching me.
<Hey Nova.> Josh thought quietly when he saw me stir. I crawled out my sleeping bag and looked at the dirt under his feet.
<Hey Josh…> I mumbled.
<What’s wrong?> Josh asked. <Please, you can tell me.>
<I…> My eyes started tearing up again, and a wave of exhaustion washed over my body. <I don’t know.>
<Come on.> Josh wrapped me up in a hug, and then laid back down on his sleeping bag. <I can see you hurting. Please?>
I took a deep breath, although I knew the gesture was meaningless since we were communicating telepathically. <You…didn’t include me.>
<Hmmm?> Josh questioned, clearly confused.
<…Back when we introduced ourselves to Myst. You said that Static and Skarr were a part of your dream. You didn’t say I was…>
I felt a sob threaten to interrupt my thoughts, but forced it back down. I looked at Josh, expecting him to interrupt and say how he didn’t say that exactly or how I had blown this out of proportion. I waited for him to say I was stupid or ridiculous, and how what I was feeling was dumb. Was it?
Josh sat quietly, listening. When he didn’t say anything, I tried to swallow another sob and continued.
<When we battle, you always push Static to his best. You didn’t do that with me. I…I could have kept fighting, I could have won, I could have…just…> The sob suddenly won, and I choked momentarily before continuing. <I could have. I want to be a part of your dream. I want…I want to. So bad. I don’t want to be just your friend, just your pet, just your mistake, just the Pokemon you didn’t want to find there at the adoption house->
<Nova…!> Josh interrupted, shocked. I tried to continue, but my sobs prevented any kind of rational thought to transmit. He grabbed me in a tight hug, and held me as I cried. <Nova. Listen to me.>
<…okay…>
<You are NOT a mistake.>
<…>
<You are not just a pet to me. You are so much more than just a friend. Even if you never wanted to fight again, I would still want you by my side rather than ANY other Charmander.>
<…>
<I’m really sorry for hurting your feelings. If you want to battle, and you want to be part of that dream, you have every right. But…> He stopped suddenly.
<…But!? But what Josh?> I begged, tugging on his shirt.
<I won’t go easy on you.> Josh smiled down at me. I looked back up at him, and I was surprised that, for once, I wasn’t crying. I smiled back, with a small
but growing amount of determination in my chest.
<I wouldn’t expect you to.> I nodded fiercely.
<Ok. Next gym is grass. You have a natural advantage. Given your skill, I bet you could beat the Gym all by yourself. Are you up for the challenge?>
I gulped. Was I? Josh believed in me. And maybe, for once...
...I believed in myself too.
<Yeah. Yeah, I am!> I answered confidently.
<Alright. Get some sleep Nova, we got a big walk for tomorrow.>
I snuggled back into my sleeping bag, feeling relieved. Sleep felt like a welcome friend, and it wasn’t long before I was all but absorbed into its embrace.
Just before I fell under the night’s spell, a fleeting thought crossed my mind.
<Hey Josh?> I asked, in my semiconscious state.
<Mmmm?>
<How far of a walk do we have?>
<Dunno, a few hours. Why?>
<Do you think…maybe, we could do that holding game again? That was fun…>
Josh snickered under his sleeping bag. <It’s a well-known trail! Do you WANT to get caught?> His laugher died down a bit. <Well, there is a way in the woods…we’ll see. Plus, we have to talk to Myst about it.>
<But maybe?> I pleaded.
<Maybe.> Josh smiled. <Now get some sleep, hmmm?>
<Okay Josh.> I nodded. A small breeze blew by, making my sleeping bag all the warmer.
Friends, fun, and love. Maybe I wasn’t such a failure after all…
---
(Nova POV)
The sunlight brushed lightly against the cool canopy of leaves. The light grazed my sleeping eyes, and slowly, I snuggled out of my sleeping bag. Everyone still seemed to be asleep. Josh was safe from the coming light under the shade of a large tree, with Static curled by his side. Myst was resting on the forests floor, curled up tightly. She stirred slightly, and her azure, ocean eyes slowly slid open, and gazed questioningly at me.
Wait, azure? Weren't her eyes red?
<Bwah!> A voice whispered loudly in my ear. I jumped forward startled, and whirled around to face the culprit. A black fox stood behind me, red eyes gleaming mischievously. <Got you!>
<Shhh, you're gonna wake Josh and Static!> I whispered.
<How do you know they're not already awake?> Myst grinned. <What if they're just my illusion, and they're already awake? What if everything is an illusion! OoOOoOoOo!> Myst stood up on her hind legs and waved her arms in a spooky fashion.
I rolled my eyes. <Well, there's always one way to know.>
<Oh yeah? How?>
I lightly nudged Myst's shoulder, just enough to cause her to lose balance and fall on her back. With a disgruntled 'Oof!', one of the trees next to me revealed a certain yellow mouse hidden in a patch of now nonexistent leaves, ready to pounce from one of the branches. I grinned triumphantly.
<Darn it!> Static whined, <I almost had it! You couldn't keep it JUST one more second, Myst!?>
<No.> she grumbled. Her eyes returned to me, looking playfully disgruntled. I couldn't help but laugh suddenly. Myst looked so ridiculous, all four legs flailing in the air, completely vulnerable. Her red paws clawed helplessly in the air, as if to grab some imaginary tree branch to help her up. After a moment she stopped and grumbled into the air, then shot me an annoyed gaze. <Are you just going to gawk at me, or can you help me up?>
<You can't get off your back without help?> I stifled a snicker.
<Of COURSE I can.> With a dignified 'Hmph', Myst twisted herself on her paws, and shot me a cold glare.
<Oh, ok. Why didn't you do that sooner?>
<Just, uh, I didn't feel like it.> Myst stood up trying to look dignified. I squinted at her, judging her appearance. <Why do you care?>
<Because I think you're a liar.> I grinned, prodding the spot where Myst fell down, and heard a muffled yelp coming from the invisible Pokemon. The standing Myst disappeared into nothing, and the true Myst appeared once more, still on her back and flailing about.
<D-damnit!> She yelled in frustration, clawing angrily into the air. I offered her my paw, which she reluctantly grabbed and pulled herself onto her feet.
<That-> Static scoffed, climbing from down the tree, <-has got to be the FUNNIEST weakness I have ever seen! Seriously, just roll over or hop up, like this!> Static landed on his back, scrunched up, and sprang up quickly landing on his paws. Myst blushed angrily.
<Well some of us aren’t accustomed to falling on our asses!> She hissed. <You've obviously got practice!>
<Excuse me!?>
<Falling on your ass. You heard me. You couldn't stand alone in a battle if you tried.>
<Ohoho? Sounds like a challenge. I'll just beat you like I did at the fair, or in the very least, just knock you on your back.>
Myst turned a scarlet shade of red as her paws dug angrily into the dirt. <You didn't win! Josh caught me before I could finish you off! One on one you would have been mine! With or without illusions!
Sparks crackled around Static. <Hah, fighting words. Nova, wanna be the referee? Not that I'll need it of course...> He grinned.
<No, it will be pretty obvious when you're fainted, I should think.> Myst shot back. I gulped as the two opposing forces circled around me, waiting for the other to make the first move.
<So how do you get out of bed? Do you need help with that as well?> Static retorted in preparation for their battle.
<I don't know. How do you get to bed without Josh? Or can you only sleep when you're curled around him like a PET?> She mocked. Static's eyes went
wide with anger, and I knew at once she had prodded a sensitive spot. Static rushed at me, lunging at the black fox, with electricity flowing in waves around his body.
-----------------------
"Kah!" Static yelled, charging at Myst with a Quick Attack. Myst made no attempt to dodge, and stood calmly in place. A moment before he collided into her, a green spherical bubble surrounded Myst, shielding herself from his attack. Static collided into it with his skull, and bounced off rather painfully into the grass.
<Running at me full speed. You must've put a lot of thought into that attack.> Myst scoffed.
<Shut it! At least I can get up! What are you, a turtle?!> Static sprang up, cheeks fueled with electricity. He was met with a black blast of power, smacking him across the side, sending him spiraling across the grass. Static panted, but raised himself to a half-standing pose. He looked tired, but his eyes shone with determination and endurance.
"Ch-Kah!" He screamed, sending lightning across the forest, enveloping Myst the yellow shockwaves. Myst gritted her teeth, but never tore her gaze from the offending yellow mouse.
Static and Myst both were panting at this point, but neither tore their gaze from the other. Both bristled, awaiting the other's move. I think Static was stronger, but Myst used strategy where Static relied on raw power. Static's cheeks crackled with jolts of electricity as he prepared his final attack. Myst's form shimmered, and she dashed behind me.
<W-what are you doing!?> I shouted at Myst. I turned to see the far too familiar clone of myself, looking back terrified. I shot her a confused glance, then turned back to Static, who was charging at me full speed. <Oh.>
Static smashed head first into me, sending me hurling into a nearby tree. My back smashed into the bark with a crack, and I slumped down the wood with a staggered expression. <Wrong Nova...> I mumbled, pained.
<You didn't disappear!> Static yelped at me, confused. He whirled around to see Myst in her true form standing on her two back paws. One of her front paws shone with black energy, which she promptly smashed into his snout. Static reeled back a few steps, before collapsing into the grass unconscious.
Myst panted over her fallen opponent. <...Hah! I did it!> She grinned at me though her exhausted breaths. <I beat Static!>
<Good job...> I mumbled, still reeling from Static's attack.<...but what are we going to tell Josh?>
Her grin melted slowly into a look of concern. <Do...do you think he would disapprove?> She panted, confused.
<Well, you did just knock Static unconscious...>
<Yeah, that was the point.>
<Well, I mean, I don't think we're supposed to do that to each other...>
<How else can we understand our place? I challenged Static's standing in the group, and I won. Thus, I outrank Static.>
<I don't think that's how it works.> I mumbled, concerned.
<How was I supposed to react?> she demanded, turning to me angrily.
<I don't know!> I shrugged hastily. I heard the sound of twigs crunching behind me, and instantly cringed.
<Hey guys, keep it down, will you?> Josh chuckled, obviously awoken. <Some of us were trying to slee-> Josh's eyes went wide when he say Static's body lying limp on the grass. <STATIC!?> He screamed, <What....what happened!?>
--------
(Josh's POV)
<Wow, and you won?> I asked, moderately impressed.
<Yeah.> Myst finished recalling her tale. <It took some strategy and quick thinking, but yeah, I beat him.>
<Wow. Well, he's going to be livid when he wakes up.> I laughed. <I suppose we shouldn't leave for Celadon without him though, which means we need to walk back to the Center.> I thought grudgingly. <Plus Nova could probably use a healing too.>
<If you don't mind.> He responded politely. It was obvious he was quite damaged, though he could walk. I offered him stasis in his Pokeball, but he insisted he was fine.
We walked in silence for a few moments before Nova tapped my leg gently, trying to get my attention.
<Hey Josh?> Hey asked.
<Mmm?>
<How long did we walk last night, while I was...out?>
I thought for a moment. <Maybe...two or three hours? Celadon should be another six away I believe, from here. If we walk all day, we should be there around nightfall.>
<Ok.> He turned away, arms curled around his tail like a teddy bear. It was obvious there was more to his question, but he remained silent.
<...Is that it?> I asked after a few seconds of silence.
<Huh? Oh, uh, yeah.> He stumbled. He looked around for a moment. <Well, no, um, actually I wanted to ask something else.>
<Go for it.>
Nova adjusted his Pokespeak, getting a strange glance from Myst while doing so. <Um, I was wondering, I mean, I know Static isn't here, but maybe, while we're still in the woods, if we could...> He trailed off.
<Oh.> I realized. <Well, um, I guess it would be up to Myst. Plus I'm not sure if we could hold to wetting, considering there's no place to wash the clothes...we could always just do a 'chicken' match I suppose, where the first person to break loses.>
<That's fine!> Nova perked up.
<Okay, sure. Your idea though, you have to ask Myst.> I smirked evilly.
<Oh come on!> Nova whined, giving me a look of indignation. <That's not fair! You know I'm not good at that kind of stuff!> Nova sighed and looked timidly at Myst.
<Are you two speaking of me?> Myst questioned Nova and me. She held a hurt expression, but didn't appear angry. Nova and I both re-adjusted our Pokespeak to include her in our thoughts.
<Yes.> I responded truthfully.
<N-no?> Nova lied, quickly turning an orangeish shade of red hearing my response. Myst shot him a questioning gaze, and he squirmed, instantly caught in his fib.
Myst approached him steadily, eyeing his unease.
<What were you discussing?> She asked, turning to the insecure Charmander. Nova looked around terrified, and shrinked to the ground.
<...Nothing....!> He lied again, earning a scrutinizing gaze from Myst.
<Nova.> I thought calmly. Nova shrinked further into the grass when he heard my thoughts. Tears began forming at the ends of his eyes. <Nova, it's okay. Calm down. Relax.> I thought soothingly. Nova took a deep breath and tried to stand back up. <You're making it worse than it is. Just ask.>
<Okay...okay.> Nova breathed slowly. <Um, w-we were, uh, wondering i-if you wanted to play a game with us?>
Myst looked at him doubtfully. <What kind of game?>
<U-um, it's a game, where you, um, the winner is the one that like, u-uh-> Nova stuttered, unsure of how to proceed. A thin layer of perspiration coated his orange fur.
<It's alright Nova, I'll ask.> I chuckled, rolling my eyes. Nova let out a quick sigh of relief, and turned to me gratefully. <Okay. The game is a game of chicken. Whoever can perform a specific skill the longest is the winner.>
<Oh yeah, I've played those types of games before. What is the objective?> Myst chimed.
<Um, in this case holding. As in, the amount of time you can refrain from, well, peeing.> I could feel my cheeks redden slightly, and tried to shrug off my embarrassment.
Myst stared back at me in befuddlement. <D...doesn't that hurt?>
<No no, it feels odd->
<Kinda good.> Nova interrupted, then sheepishly ducked.
<Um...yeah.> I resumed. <And it's a fun way to pass the time. Sometimes we do it to wetting, but in this case we would just do it until everyone would 'chicken out'.>
Myst stared at them for a moment. <Um. Alright. Well, you're my leader. If you command me to play, I'll play.>
<NONONONO.> Josh said, slightly shocked. <You shouldn't do this because you think it's an order. That's...> Josh looked concerned. <That's a bit weird. No, it's voluntary. If you don't want to do it, that's fine. We won’t force you into it, and we won’t think less of you if you don't want to.>
Myst smiled at me, looking bemused. <You are strange, Josh. None of my other leaders would have given me the option of...ignoring one of their requests. It makes you...unique.> She turned to look at Nova, but her thoughts remained directed at me. <I think you will make a good leader. I would like to try this game. You and Nova seem to like it, and hey...> Myst turned back to me, tail quickly brushing over Nova's fur. Nova jumped back bewildered, and Myst shot him a coy gaze. <I'll try anything once.>
----
<...So?> Nova asked, looking hesitantly at Myst.
<So what?>
<Soooo, what do you think?>
Myst looked thoughtfully back at Nova. <I think you're weird.>
Myst, Nova and I had been walking for about thirty minutes. Signs were rapidly becoming noticeable, if Nova's erratic bouncing was any indication. Myst carried a slightly concerned look on her face, but otherwise showed no symptoms. I was probably around a four or five, and simply clenched my hands in my pockets as we continued.
Nova grumbled sheepishly. <I mean, yeah I know that, but like, what do you feel?>
<Like I need to pee...?> Myst rolled her eyes at Nova. <...What did you expect?>
Nova frowned, feeling dejected. <Okay.>
Myst looked at Nova and sighed. <I don't know. Maybe a bit tingly. Anxious?>
Nova looked up and grinned. <Yeah! That's what I expected.> He nodded.
<Well, I mean, yeah. Anxious, tingly, mildly uncomfortable, all the feelings you normally get...> Myst turned to face Nova, her thoughts bringing to drip with irony. <...when you have to pee!>
Nova smirked. <W-well, you could always forfeit.>
<And lose to you? Never.> She scoffed. <Plus you're already dancing around like a buffoon. It shouldn't be long.>
Nova turned his signature reddish-orange color. <I am not!>
<Hmmmm.> Myst laughed in response. Suddenly, a large crunching sound reverberated through the woods. Were we not alone? I turned to the source of the sound to see a younger looking trainer walking alongside his Gloom. The boy almost bumped into me before noticing me.
"Oh! Hey there! Are those Pokemon yours?" He beamed, pointing at Myst and Nova. Myst looked bewildered by the boys’ presence. I turned to Nova, who gave me a wide-eyed terrified stare. Not one of meeting someone new, but of meeting someone new in our current...state.
"Yeah, I've been a trainer for a while now." I smiled, hiding my discomfort. "What about yourself?"
"Two months now! My oddish just evolved; I'm so happy! He's the first Pokemon I ever got!"
"Nice."
"Oh hey, wanna battle? It's what trainers do, right?"
I mentally slapped myself. Were either of my Pokemon in condition to battle? Nova and Myst were both beaten up pretty bad, plus they had other...things on their mind as well. I had a few healing items in my pack, so maybe that wasn't a problem...
This trainer seemed to be mostly grass; at least as first impressions go. I looked down at Nova.
"How about it, Nova? I can heal you before we start, if you want."
Nova once again gave me a terrified gaze. <J-josh! I have to go...! I don't know how well I'll do in my state...> He shifted foot to foot awkwardly.
<Can you just hold it?>
Nova gave me a bewildered look. <Why would I hold it?> He asked, puzzled. <...Won’t it just drip though my fingers?>
<NO, like hold it, like don't pee yet, wait.>
<OH, that makes a lot more sense. Um, I...I don't know. I guess?>
<I believe in you.> I laughed. I had seen him in much worse states before, and I was sure he was only at a fraction of his limit. A short battle shouldn't be too much for him at this stage. I tossed him a potion, which he guzzled thankfully before handing back to me.
"Alright. Go, Nova!" Nova confidently strode in front of me, paws clenched ready for battle.
"Gloom!" The boy's cried, "Use Razor Leaf!"
---
(Nova's POV)
<Dodge and use ember, Nova!> Josh commanded. I quickly dodged in between the whirling leaves and raced towards the Gloom, intending to make this a short a match as possible. A leaf clipped my leg as I ran, making me stumble. Another crashed into my shoulder, and soon a flurry of leaves crashed into me, obscuring my vision and slicing at my limbs.
<Nova! Get out of there!> Josh called out. Wincing, I dashed out of the leaves, receiving several small cuts as angry retaliation from the leaves. I took a quick breath, fueling myself with my meager fire. The Gloom stared at me from across our makeshift battlefield, eyes glazed over, and drool slowly seeping
from its mouth. Fire blew through my mouth, and the foul smelling Pokemon was quickly engulfed in flames.
"Glah!" It cried, and reared up, preparing to fire another torrent of leaves. It hesitated for a moment, and refused to fire, eyes darting back and forth. Was the trainer communicating with it through a Pokespeak?
It didn't matter; the distraction was all I needed. I blew another small wave of fire at the purple plant, and it collapsed in the dirt.
<Yes!> I cried out, jumping in the air. The impact of the ground jolted my bladder, and reminded me that I should be more careful. I cringed for a moment, waiting for the feeling to pass.
"Return Gloom." The younger trainer commanded, wielding a simple red and white pokeball. Once the Gloom disappeared inside the ball, he reached on his belt and took out another.
'Ack...how many does he have?!' I thought with minor panic.
I tried to catch how many pokeballs were on his belt, but his shirt was in the way. I gritted my teeth and tried not to fidget.
<Looking good, Nova! I never knew you were such a good dancer.> Myst taunted. My mind raced to come up with a clever comeback, but at the moment I came up blank. Too much of my energy was already expended preparing myself for my next opponent, and not peeing myself in battle.
"Go, Magnemite!” The trainer shouted, sending out a small hovering silver ball. A small eye opened on the spinning mechanism as it glanced upon me curiously.
<Nova, use ember!>
“Magnemite, use Spark!”
I sucked in a quick breath, and spat a small orb of fire at the strange Pokemon. Its magnetic arms swirled quickly with electricity, but my fire slammed against it before it could make a further attack. The Magnemite stopped spinning, and fell onto the earth with a heavy thud. I looked at it hesitantly…was it defeated?
“Return, Magnemite!”
Good, I think that’s the last-
“Go, Metapod!”
Gosh darn it…
“Metapod, use tackle!”
<You know what to do, Nova.>
The small, non-menacing lump of green slowly hobbled towards me. It bounced awkwardly, trying to give me the most menacing look possible with its lopsided eyes. I took a deep breath, and felt the familiar warmth rise in my chest.
I wasn’t sure if I hit, but either way the Metapod fell over and didn’t get up. The trainer absorbed the Metapod back into the pokeball. I pressed my legs together, trying to look casual and ignore the pressure in my bladder, whimpering for attention.
That’s it right? Three? Please oh please…?
---
“Go, Swinub!”
‘Oh come on…!’ I thought as my bladder wailed. I had never won a fight against a water type before, and my current condition didn’t help my self-esteem. I bounced around a bit before a haunting thought crossed my mind. Pokemon don’t get an option to fall unconscious once they lose enough hit points, they simply get knocked out. If I got knocked out…would I still be able to control my bladder? I gulped, feeling cold sweat run down my forehead.
<H-hey Josh?> I muttered weakly.
<Yeah Nova?>
<U-um, are you sure it’s a good idea to keep me in? Water beats fire and all that, plus->
<Oh, don’t worry about it. Swinub is an ice type, you have the advantage.>
<…What? B-but isn’t ice just frozen water?>
<Frozen water which fire melts. You got this!>
The Swinub materialized, but never opened its eyes. It almost appeared to be sleeping, as it never moved from the spot where it materialized. A small huff came from its snout, though it could have been just a snore.
<Light ‘em up!> Josh beamed.
<Light…uh, what?> I asked confused.
<Use Ember.> Josh responded dryly.
<Oh, uh, right, right.> I coughed. ‘Duh!’ I mentally insulted myself while taking another deep breath. To my surprise, the Swinub did the same.
“Swyyy~” It hummed, sending a small, bluish cloud out of its snout. It encompassed me, sending chills down my normally warm body. I tried to breathe fire, but nothing came out. I shivered again, trying to find a way out of the frosty air.
<Left!> Josh ordered. Grimacing, I dashed to my left, relieved to find an opening in the icy mist. The fire in my chest rekindled, and I aimed appropriately at the small brown Pokemon.
“Chaaa!” I squeaked, as the fire shot out of my mouth. It swirled around the small pig, bashing him into his back in the small flurry of embers. The Swinub rolled over and took another deep breath, but I was quicker. I dashed forward, dousing it in another sea of embers. It didn’t roll over that time.
I panted, using my fatigue as an excuse to bend over slightly, and pressed my paw lightly against myself to relieve some pressure off my aching bladder. The trainer returned the Swinub to its pokeball, and this time I got a full view of all the pokeballs on his belt.
There must be more than twenty there! If I don’t lose control first, he’ll knock me out with sheer numbers!
“That’s a powerful Charmander you have.” The trainer nodded at Josh.
Small talk, really!?
<Yeah, he really puts his heart into it. He’s a great addition to the team.> Josh smiled at me. For a moment, I forgot about my stress and just basked in Josh’s compliment.
I’m good on the team! He said it, he said it, he said it! Maybe I was wanted after all…
“Why haven’t you evolved him yet? He’s clearly above the level…” The trainer questioned.
<Um, we haven’t really talked about it yet-> Josh replied.
Talked about what? It was frustrating only hearing half the conversation…
<-but I’ll get to it. By the way, why a mono-weak-to-fire team?> Josh finished, chuckling.
The trainer laughed guiltily. “I was actually trying to find a Geodude to train just for that reason, actually.”
<Hah. Well, best of luck, catch you later then.>
Wait, was the battle over?
“Bye!” The young boy scampered off into the woods.
“Chaaa…!” I mumbled unintentionally, grabbing myself as soon as he was out of site. Myst grinned mischievously at my suffering.
“Enjoying yourself?” She asked, snickering at my predicament. I mumbled something as I crossed my legs tighter.
<Hey, awesome job Nova! You did great!>
I uncrossed myself and beamed awkwardly. <T-thanks Josh!> I hobbled foot to foot, waiting for him to finish.
<Do you want a potion before we head off?>
<Believe me, any type of liquid is the LAST thing I want right now! Can I…> I motioned to the forest behind myself.
<You don’t have to ask.> Josh laughed as I blushed and raced behind a line of trees.
Aaaahhh.... |
<WAIT. Wait, wait, wait.>
<What?>
<Why on earth are we walking?> Static questioned angrily. I gave him a confused glance before realizing his point. We all turned to Skarr.
<FLY!?> Skarr yelped in astonishment. <Two continents, Josh, I have flown! One cannot fathom the fatigue deep in my bones; the wea
riness in my very SOUL. It is truly a wonder I can even stand, let alone walk! You do be the disgrace, the ignominy of asking if I
can fly you all to Celadon, simply to save you a small walk!? Is that all I am to you, a reusable method of travel?>
Long ago, these speeches would unnerve me beyond belief, and I would stumble all over myself apologizing and offering condolences for my actions. Now though, I know Skarr much better.
<Seriously?> I smirked, staring though his façade.
<Absolutely not, my liege. Shall we be off?>
<Do you need a potion first, or an elixir?>
<After all this time, and you still believe my nonsense. No, I need no sustenance for flying! My kin are born for flying, and can go months without roosting.> Skarr grinned the grin I had missed for so long. <Now, my liege, shall we be off?>
---
<I missed this.>
<Oh?>
<When you left, I really was scared you wouldn’t be able to return...>
<You place so little faith in me, Josh.>
Wind rushed against my face, swirling though my thick orange hair. It was cold at this height, and the harsh winds didn’t help matters, but I didn’t care. This was the top of the world! Flying miles above the Earth at breakneck speeds, clutching my Skarmory for dear life as we raced around the world. If I fell, I would truly have time to think about my death before I crashed against the ground.
Of course, Skarr would catch me in time, of course. I admit, I have fallen more than once…
<I was just worried about you is all.>
<Worried I should fail?>
<Can’t you just take the sentiment?>
<Never.> He grinned.
The lush forest sailed by, melding with the wind in a perfect shade of green. Details were lost as Skarr pushed himself at even faster speeds. Wind tore at my clothes and stung my eyes, and I laughed at our betrayal of nature. Every human should be given the gift of flight, but if only a select few could obtain it, I felt honored to be one of the chosen few.
<Hey Skarr?>
<Yes Josh?>
<You never got around to telling me about your kids!> Despite us communicating telepathically, I couldn’t help yelling. The roar of the wind nearly deafened me, and almost all my other senses were also rendered mute.
<Oh, I’m sure you don’t wish to bore yourself with such details.>
<Oh shut up and tell me!>
Skarr turned his neck and gave me a grin before returning his gaze at the clouds ahead. <Very well. Where shall I begin? We choose to name them different forms of metal. It’s a bit cliché of course, but Karliah insisted and I didn’t argue. So, the first one to hatch -- oh, I’m getting ahead of myself. Firstly, Karliah was slightly premature with our eggs. It happens, but rarely, but we were both moderately concerned. No trouble though, they hatched on time, a few hours later->
<Hours!?>
<Yes? Don’t compare us strong sturdy Pokemon to you weak humans now, dragging out pregnancy for months and months.> Skarr laughed. <The first one to hatch was of course Bronze. Despite his name, he didn’t share the same coloration as his mother, in fact, none of them did. I was a bit disappointed, but Karliah insisted it was for the best. Anyway, out of all of them, Bronze was always the most ambitious…>
Skarr went on, describing in detail the different personalities he was able to witness in each of his children. He talked about their first flight, hunt, and eventual parting. As Skarr described his last child to leave the nest, his usual casual melodramatic attitude faltered as a teary demeanor began to set in.
<…never thought he would leave, you know? He wasn’t the most agile, and it had been almost a day since the sixth -- Silver -- had left the nest. Tin was the first one born, of course, which meant he was the highest at risk for...difficulties. Usually not all in a kin make it, of course. But by sundown, he was off, flying over the ocean like it was second nature, right into the sunset, reflecting the hues of the setting star like he owned the sky…>
<That’s beautiful Skarr. Congratulations.>
<T-thank you Josh. For everything. And I don’t just mean for Karliah->
<I know, friend.>
Wind spilled from Skarr’s wings as he safely made his decent to the forest’s floor. He drifted to the grass below, landing softly along the dirt trail. As soon as I stepped off, he grabbed me back in a fierce hug, which I returned just as fiercely.
When he released me, I noticed the area under his eyes appeared more polished than normal. He quickly shielded his face from view with a wing, covering himself with the stretchy red tendons.
<Skarr?>
<Sorry, t-tears…don’t suit my demeanor. Static would be relentless if he saw me in this state; give me a minute to compose myself, i-if you would. >
<You don’t need to be embarrassed in front of me, Skarr.>
<I know Josh…> Skarr removed his wing, wiping his eyes clean. <Old habits, I suppose.>
<You made a good father, Skarr.>
<Perhaps I did.> Skarr sighed, content. <Well, we still have a bit of flying before we reach Celadon. Ready to ride?>
<Yes, yes. We should invest in a saddle for you, I swear your wings are slicing right though my legs->
<A SADDLE!? Is that all I am to you, a simple flying horse?>
We laughed, as the sun reached its Zenith in the sky, and flew off towards Celadon. |
Okay. I'm only on the second "chapter" right now (each chapter being a bit more then 4000 words) and it updates Fridays, but after like ten or so updates, it's gonna have to catch up to the speed of my writing, so the updates will not be as quick (or not as much) thanks for the love you guys :3 I hope you enjoy).
(Now on to regularly scheduled programming!)
(Josh POV)
…Buzzzzzz…
…Buzzzzzzzzz…
…Buzzzzzzzzzzzz…
‘Who on earth is calling me?’ I thought, flying high above the trail leading up to Celadon. This had been the third call I had received after talking with Skarr. Normally I don’t use my phone when flying because I could drop it, but considering this was the third time it buzzed in the last five minutes, I was wondering if it could be urgent.
After weighing the pros and cons with myself momentarily, I fished the phone out of my pocket, and pressed it to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Thank GOD, do you KNOW how hard it is to get a hold of you!? I’ve been calling for the past half hour-”
“S…andy?” I questioned.
“No, your other girlfriend. Which, by the way, you better not have.”
“Hah, what’s up?”
“Well, based on your texts it sounded like you were flying to Celadon.”
"Yeah, I’m gonna-” I winced as the wind blew against my face, almost knocking the phone from my hand. Skarr gave me a sheepish shrug and slowed his speed. “Yeah, I’m gonna face Erika today, why?”
“Well, I flew down to see you-”
“That’s awesome!”
“-thanks, but not why I called. It was gonna be a surprise anyway…”
“Then what’s up?” I asked, mildly concerned.
“Well, I got re-introduced to the law system down here in Celadon.” Sandy groaned.
“What!? Are you in trouble?”
“My point is-”
A piercing screech violated my ears, causing me to wince in agony. I looked down to see a guard standing by the entrance of the city, glaring at me like a tiny ant, wielding a microphone.
“SIR! BY ORDER OF THE CELADON GUARD, WE ORDER YOU TO LAND!”
“-Damn it!” Sandy cursed. “J-just do what they say!”
“What!?” I asked bewildered.
“Fixing!” I heard a subtle click as she hung up.
<What shall I do, Josh?> Skarr asked with a hint of panic in his voice.
<Um, land like the guard said, I guess.> Igulped.
Skarr swooped down carefully, and landed on the dirt trail leading up to the city. Skarr regained his composure, walking briskly to the officer in question (with me still on his back) and starting though her with his sunlight, lava orange, piercing eyes.
<Do what do we owe the pleasure, my lady?>Skarr asked telepathically, with a hint of malice in his tone. The officer stood about my height, 5’11”, and had a tightly curled brown bun of hair. She wore an official officer suit, a dark navy blue, and fashioned a tight,unpleasant frown that she wore with rather dull pink lipstick.
“It is my sworn duty to protect the citizens of thiscity, whether they’re in the tunnels below, on the ground, or flying in the
sky.” The officer began, arms tucked behind her in a professional manner. “Flying without using the patented technique ‘Fly’ is risky and dangerous, and if it were my decision, it would be outlawed. The reason ‘Fly’ was created was due to the fact that there were so many accidents with young trainers being reckless and getting themselves seriously injured or worse. ‘Fly’, which is given at the Celadon mall for FREE mind you and takes only minutes to teach your Pokemon,gives the trainer a protective shield similar to ‘Protect’, which prevents
trainers from flying off their mounts.
“However, this precarious and hazardous activity of flying without ‘Fly’ is legal as long as you are a trainer fit to handle such a task, as proven by your Rainbow badge, given by out gym leader Erika. Present your badge to me and you may leave in…” She gritted her teeth. “…any way you see fit.”
My mind raced as cold sweat dribbled down my neck.
Youneed a badge to fly? Are you kidding me? All this time it’s been illegal? Ohshit, what am I going to tell the officer? I’ve never been arrested before! Oh
shit, oh shit, oh shit…!
“Well? Do you have the badge or not, sir?” The officer gave me a stern look; her hand presented and awaiting the badge.
“Um, y-you see, officer, I don’t have my badge-”
“Right now!” A girl behind me shouted. I turned my head to see a light skinned girl with pitch black hair rushing from the gym.She wore a pink bandana around her hair, and dressed in a yellow orange, almost oriental robe. “Sorry about that Josh, just got finished polishing your Rainbow badge. There you are.”
I recognized the woman as Erika, the leader of thegrass gym. What bewildered me was that although I knew her name from my
research at school, she should not have known mine. She offered the Rainbow badge to me, which I stared at in trepidation. I hadn’t earned this. It was against every policy ever set for a gym leader to hand an un-earned badge to an untested trainer.
Erika continued offering me the badge, and with no other foreseeable option, I hesitantly took the rainbow colored emblem from her palm. Satisfied, she turned to the officer.
“Is there a problem ma’am?” Erika asked kindly.
“Evidently not.” The police woman nodded curtly to Erika. She turned to me. “Sorry for the lecture, I just-” She turned away for a moment before returning her gaze to me. It looked far less professional then before, more like a disappointed mother. “…my brother was injured in a flying accident, flying bareback like you were. I don’t want further injuries to result from…this. I can’t stop you from not using ‘Fly’, but I ask as a citizen that you consider using safer methods. And if you do still ride bareback, just…please fly low.”
The officer bowed her head, obviously still grieving for her brother. Perhaps I had been a bit reckless. I made a mental note to check out ‘Fly’ before I left Celadon, but for now, I had other questions that needed addressing. The police officer walked back to her post, mind filled with presumably thoughts about her injured brother. Erika turned back to me, and motioned towards the gym. |
(Oops, busy Wednesday guys, sorry I didn't post yesterday! Here's a longer chapter to make up for it :3)
(Nova POV)
<I believe in you, Nova. You know that.>
<Me too!>
<We believe in you Nova!>
<Do not fret, I am confident in yourabilities.>
<T-thanks everyone.>
Paws shaking with trepidation, I turned towards the arena. The gym almost looked overgrown, with floor tiles exchanged for grass, and florescent moss as natural lighting on the ceiling. Exotic flowers and plants surrounded the battlefield, some giving off odd colored lights, and others simply looking appealing. The battlefield appeared to be bathed in an otherworldly glow.
I couldn’t fail. This time more than most, because I promised Josh he could push me as hard as he pushes the others. I was weaker than them, which meant I had to work harder to prove myself.
I looked at Erika, the gym leader. She looked prepared, assured, and ready. None of the emotions I felt. Josh had faith in me, but I had none in myself. He expected me to win, which made the situation all the worse. If he expected it to be a difficult battle and I lost, it wouldbe understandable. If he expected me to win and I lost…
I can’t lose. J-just focus on hitting them, and staying conscious.
“Ready?” Erika called out. Josh stood up, and faced her confidently.
“Absolutely.”
“Then let’s not waste any more time. Go, Ivysaur!”
“Nova, use Ember!”
“Ivysaur, Stun Spore!”
A green tank like Pokemon appeared, and growled menacingly. It looked like a bigger Bulbasaur, with the bulb on its back half open, revealing a pink flower underneath. It wielded dull but powerful looking fangs and bright red eyes. After a moment of hesitation it charged forward with a yellow mist trailing off the flower on its back.
<Dodging its next attack is more important than hitting it with yours Nova! Be careful.> Josh forewarned. I took a deep breathe, feigned a dash left, and ran to the right. The Ivysaur realized my bluff to late, and stumbled on its side in an over correction of its own path. It jumped back up, but the few seconds it was on its side was enough for me to fire an ember.
<Grrah!> The Ivysaur roared, eyes squinted in fury. The billowing cloud surrounding its flower now turned from amber to a dark, foreboding purple. This time Ivysaur would expect a feint, and without another command from Josh, my mind was blank.
The Ivysaur charged. I took a deep breath.
Purple clouds exploded around me, enveloping the arena in a heavy dust. Coughing though the spores, I vaguely saw Ivysaur polluting the air with the flower on its back. With one last cough, I shot my minor flames at the heavy plant, and it collapsed in its sea of lavender ash.
Whew!One down!
All the sudden, my vision blurred and I convulsed. My stomach turned and the room around me twisted and disoriented itself with differentshades and hues. I felt sickening, and I nearly fell from dizziness.
<Woaaah! Josh, what was that!?> I yelped, once the feelings subsided.
<You’ve been poisoned. Relax.>
I squeaked, then just quietly shook in place. What was Josh’s plan? How serious was the poison? I turned and gave him a concerned look, but he just nodded quietly in reply. I turned back. What would happen to me? Did the poison make me weaker, or make me less likely to win, or-
Another spell hit me, seemingly turning the floor to goo. I collapsed on the floor nauseated, trapped by the sticky pull of the green slime. I tasted the slime as it slowly engulfed me, gluing my limbs to the floor and slowly seeping its way into my mouth.
Suddenly it was over. The grass resumed its normal texture, and the ground was its typical form. I pushed myself off the ground, and looked wildly around to ensure if anyone else saw what just occurred.
<JOSH! JOSH! D-did you see the ground!? It went up, and, and, was all gooey and trapped me and->
<RELAX. That’s an order. The poison only works when you’re active. Stand still and don’t move. Barely breathe, barely think. When she sends out her next Pokemon, only expend energy to dodge and attack.>
<O-okay.> I sniveled. <J…Josh?>
<Yes?>
<I…I’m scared.> I barely whispered, paws clenched in front of myself.
<What you’re seeing isn’t real, and it can’t hurt you. The poison, however, can. The more often it affects you, the more damage it deals.>
<O-okay.> I gulped.
<And Nova?>
<Y-yes?>
<I believe in you.> Josh responded. <You can do this.>
Erika reached down and pulled a second pokeball out of her pockets with a satisfied smirk. She knew I was weaker now…
“Go, Vileplume!”
---
“Viiile!” The female Vileplume hissed from across the stage. Her red peddles bobbed up and down as she bounced in place inpreparation for battle.
<Nova, use Ember!>
“Vileplume, use Venoshock!”
Vileplume and I both waited for the other to make a move. It occurred to me that I had no idea how ‘Venoshock’ even worked, and that my ignorance would make the attack harder to avoid. I took a deep breath.
“Vahaaaa!” She screamed as the embers burned against her skin. She recovered quickly, springing up in a sea of pedals, and gave me an icy stare. Her eyes changed from a dull red to an malicious black as her eyes never left my body.
I tried taking another deep breath, but suddenly it felt as if the stale air in my lungs was trapped inside. I couldn’t breathe. I clutched my throat in desperation, noticing in horror that my normally invisible orange veins had turned to a sickening shade of black. Looking down at myself, I saw all of the veins in my body as if they were highlighted in black, all leading up to my heart, which was encased with the foul fluid.
My body pulsed violently, sending me to my knees. The room began once again to spin, creating a vortex of colors that I knew didn’t exist here. Despite my lack of oxygen and my mind’s hallucinogenic state, I noticed the Vileplume’s stare never leaving my body.
<Let the poison consume you.> She ordered, growling with malevolence.
Despite the warm atmosphere of the gym, I shivered. My body felt weak, and my mind was growing fuzzy because of the lack of air. I couldn’t attack without my embers, and this poison made me weak…
I focused my energy, and coughed as hard as I could. A vile black blob fell out of my mouth, and a rush of warm, energizing air once again filled my lungs. After gulping a few more mouthfuls of air, I stood to face my opposition.
“Char!” I shouted, breaking the silence of the room and once again showering the Vileplume in a wave of fire. The attack knocked her on her back, and her eyes resumed their normal reddish color before they closed.
“Ch….ch…chh…” I gasped. My fur resumed its normal orange color, though I could still feel the toxins pulsing though my veins.
<Nova, you’ve done extremely well. Return, and let’s get that poison looked at…> Josh spoke with a hint of concern in his voice.
<No…I don’t need to be babied…> I stubbornly replied. <I want…to be treated like the others…>
<I am, Nova. You don’t need to faint; I wouldn’t push anyone that hard. You don’t have to->
<You expected me to win by myself. I have to…> I panted.
<...Nova, I didn’t mean->
<Please, Josh.>
“Are you ready?” Erika grinned, holding her last Pokeball. “Go, Ludicolo!”
“WOAH! That’s not in the league regulations! What are you doing?” Josh yelped.
“Yeah, well I also wasn’t supposed to get you out of that ticket, hmmm? I guess I’m just full of surprises today. Prove your salt, trainer.”
<It’s not about proving my salt, it’s about helping Nova gain confidence by facing foes he can win against.> Josh thought violently, loud enough for me to hear. <Not by trying his hardest and still failing against an impossible foe!>
“Ludah! Ludah!” The Ludicolo bounced energetically. I walked to the middle of the stage, faltered, then regained my footing andcontinued.
<Nova…> Josh murmured. <What are you hoping to prove…?>
<That I’m not afraid anymore.> A voice rose from my thoughts with a volume I didn’t recognize.
<Fainting won’t prove anything to me!>
<Which is why I don’t intend to faint.>
<Nova->
For once, his words were lost on me. My insecurities and faults washed off me like water, and all I saw before me was my foe, my prey. I no longer felt the effects of the poison under my flesh, nor the wounds from my previous battles. A circle of white fire surrounded me, engulfing me in a warm, lightened glow.
A feeling came with this power. A feeling I had never felt before…bubbled up inside of me. It was nice. It was the opposite of my inexperience, my fear, my anxiety…
...Was this what confidence felt like?
Red and blue fire mixed with the white, giving me an almost supernatural appearance. Both Josh and Erika held bewildered expressions, though to me their feelings were irrelevant. All that mattered was me and my prey.
<Be warned, child of the seas and grass…> I spoke in an ancient tongue, <For you have now kindled the wrath of the dragons…> |
(Josh’s POV)<Alright, I’ve let you drag me this far without-><Technically, we’re flying.><Technically, you’re deflecting.>I gave Sandy a concerned look. The usually confident smile she wore was replaced with a sheepish smirk as we flew across the skies. We both flew in protective blue spheres, me being supported by Skarr, and Sandy being supported by Charizard. A thought crossed my mind.<Hey Sandy, where do you work?><I, um, I don’t work.><Yes you do, you’ve mentioned your job before.><I got fired.> She lied.<Sandy.> I thought sternly.<Yes, my dear?><Stop it.><Stop what?><It.> I glared. Sandy smirked, and gave me a coy, suggestive gaze. <Come on, tell me! What are you hiding!?><I’ll tell you later.><Sandy!><Yes, my dear?><Tell me now!> I whined, slightly shocking myself about how childish I sounded.<I can’t tell you now.><Why!?><Because it’s a surprise.><Why is it a surprise?><I can’t tell you that; it’ll ruin the surprise.>“AAAAUUUGHHH!” I growled into Skarr, as he chuckled at our ridiculous conversation.<Can I have a hint?> I pleaded. Sandy pondered this for a moment, staring into the sky.<…No.> She concluded. My body fell limp upon Skarr, as all movement ceased in my limbs.<Josh!?> Sandy yelped. <Are you alright!?><No.> <What happened!?><I died. You frustrated me to death.> I body bounced lightly on Skarr as we flew. <You killed me; it’s all your fault.><It’s my fault, is it?><Yup. Killed your boyfriend in cold blood. You’re evil. You’re a criminal, and you’re gonna go to jail.><Like they’ll catch me.><Oh?><I’ll hide your body, and they’ll never find out that I killed you.><Yeah, well they have satellites, and they’re watching you right now, and they know you killed me.><Well, I’ll have to invade the satellite place and hack the-><You are both have the attention span, and mindset of hatchlings.> Skarr interrupted, scoffing at our rather juvenile conversation. <Oh hush, I’m sure you had silly conversations with Karliah.> I replied.<Never. Most of our conversations involved hypotheticals, with some philosophy and other intellectual discussion.> <Aren’t you a bundle of laughs.> Sandy responded dryly.<My apologies, shall I try again?> Skarr smirked. <OH JOSSSH… ~> He crooned, in a hideously high voice. <DON’T DIEEE ON MEEE ~, HERE, LET ME GIVE YOU MOUTH TO MOUTH, I’M SURE THAT WILL REVIVE YOU, JOSH-CHAN!>I howled with laugher, grabbing Skarr’s sides to ensure I wouldn’t fall off. Sandy blushed with outrage, glaring at Skarr, then me for laughing.<We WERE having a moment.> Sandy grumbled.<Exactly, my dear.> Skarr spoke nobly, resuming his normal tone. <You were distracting my trainer from what should be his goal at this current time – focusing on different strategies against the next gym.><And I’m not allowed to have any fun?> I grinned at Skarr.<None at all, I’m afraid.> He grinned in reply. <In all honesty, you COULD just use private-chat, instead of me painfully being forced to hear every sap-dripped word coming out of your combined consciences.><You could always just turn your Pokespeak off…> I muttered.<Oh!? Could I now?!> Skarr asked sarcastically, a giant, evil grin appearing on his face. <I think I’ll do just that.>Suddenly, Skarr took a nosedive. I realized too late that in fact he couldn’t turn off the Pokespeak because the switch itself is manual, and that would require his wing to adjust it on his scalp…!<One moment, I have almost obtained it…> Skarr cackled madly as we plummeted towards the earth, one wing mockingly brushing against his head, prodding at the Pokespeak.<SKAAAARRRRRRRRR!?> I screamed as the ground expanded and filled my vision with pictures of my eminent death.<Oh? Would you rather I keep it on?> He asked satirically.<YES PLEASE!> I yelped.<Well, if you insist.> He lazily pulled out of the nosedive, nearly brushing his metallic underbelly on the grass trail below. <Why the change of mind, Master?><B-b-because I didn’t want t-to have to clean you later.> I stuttered, still shaken even though Skarr had resumed his normal flight. <Clean me?><Yeah, after I PISSED MYSELF IN FEAR all over you! Remember whom is sitting on whom, hmmm?>Skarr snorted with a laugh.<Hey, if you could NOT kill my boyfriend, that would be swell.> Sandy thought-yelled down to us.<Oh, right, like I would kill him. Then what? Would I hack the “satellite place” to cover my tracks?> Skarr grinned.We all laughed as Skarr flapped to gain more altitude.<Hey. You never did answer me, Mrs. Avoidance.> I once again reminded Sandy.<Tell you what. You beat Misty, and I promise, before we go to sleep I’ll show you the surprise.><Show? So it’s tangible?><Duh? It wouldn’t be a good gift if it wasn’t tangible, would it?><Well, I was just wondering what it could be-><What kind of gift isn’t tangible…?><JOSH-CHAN, DESU DESU~, HOLD ME TIIIGHHTERRR~> Skarr cackled, both guessing what ‘non-tangible’ gift ideas were floating in the recesses of my mind and successfully humiliating me.<Augh, you boys are all the same!> Sandy hissed in annoyance.<W-what else would be a non-tangible gift?> I whimpered sheepishly.<No JOSH, your gift is TANGABLE.> She said, rolling her eyes. <Perv.><Oh, you think of a non-tangible gift that isn’t…that!><Friendship. Love. Happiness. Adventure.> She listed, giving me a dark smirk.<Those aren’t GIFTS!><Happiness isn’t a gift?><Now THIS is a good conversation!> Skarr piped up at the sound of a more philosophical conversation.<Shut up Skarr, or I’ll sock you in your non-tangibles.> Sandy chuckled. |
(Josh POV)
<You would have DIED.>
<Naw, I would have lived.>
<With massive brain damage, maybe.>
I grinned. <So no difference?>
Sandy rolled her eyes, and gave me an annoyed yet amused smirk. <Be careful, will you?>
<Always.> I lied.
Static stood loyally by my side, along with Nova, Skar, and Myst. Sandy stood to my left, petting her larger-than-average Wigglytuff as we talked. Misty walked towards us, taking her time as she meandered around the gym.
“Have we earned the badge?” I questioned, smiling.
“It was never a question of whether you earned the badge; from the first time we fought you met the prerequisites. You fought me again for a different reason.” Misty responded.
“Oh?”
“You wanted to earn my respect.”
“And?”
“You demonstrated strategy in battle, trust in your Pokémon, and the willingness to sacrifice yourself for the sake of your team. You have earned my respect.” Misty concluded, tossing a light blue badge in my direction. I caught it, and briefly admired it in my palm. “Now get out of here before you poison yourself.” She concluded, grinning.
We bid her farewell, and walked out of the humid, warm chlorinated building. Sandy stood by my side, and our Pokémon all trailed at our heels. A light breeze tugged at my jacket and the grass beneath our feet as the sun set on another wondrous Kanto day. The sky began its transformation from blue to black, and the moon was already present in the cloudless sky.
“Want to head back to the Center, get a room?” Sandy asked, turning to me.
“On a beautiful night like tonight?”
“Eh, there will be other pretty nights; ones where comfortable beds won’t be so close by.”
“Do you have a problem roughing it?”
Sandy’s eyes sparked with the accusation.
“You think I would have a problem with sleeping outdoors?” She asked, with a hint of venom in her words.
“Well, I know you’re not as accustomed with the wilderness as I am.” I lightly taunted. Her gaze turned from one of anger to one of inquisition, almost as if we were playing a game with an unclear, dark purpose. When she didn’t speak up immediately, I added, “Since I am a trainer. A few badges under my belt, and I know I can handle any wild Pokémon that could come up.”
“And I couldn’t?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“It was implied.”
I shrugged. “Well, some are powerful, and I know you aren’t as strong as-”
“Strong as?”
“…Never mind.”
“No.” She smirked, jabbing an accusing finger into my chest. “Say it.”
“I know you aren’t as strong as me, from a battle perspective.” I mumbled.
“Just because I have weaker Pokémon, right?” Her eyes shone suddenly, and I had the feeling of walking into a trap, with the iron fangs looming over me. Still, I felt a strong urge to defend myself. I had beaten her…twice…one time so much so her main Pokémon ended up in the hospital with a concussion. I should answer her honestly. If our Pokémon were on even level, do I think I still would have won?
“I believe I still would…because I have spent more time training, and because I have more experience.” I stated shakily. Sandy ran ahead of me, with an unnerving grin.
“So if we were ever to battle, somehow, on even terms…I wouldn’t stand a chance?”
“I-I didn’t say that.” I mumbled awkwardly.
“Would you wager on it?”
“Depends on the wager.”
“Dinner and a movie. Loser has to pay.”
Those were terms I could agree on.
“Okay…” I smiled cautiously. “If the situation should arise, where somehow we both have similarly leveled Pokémon with the same amount of training, yes, I would accept your wager.”
“Excellent.” Sandy grinned, entwining her fingers together like an evil mastermind. “By the way, nice fighting. Facing and beating two gyms in one day is almost unheard of.”
“I had awesome help.” I smiled.
“Still though, you must be a bit fatigued, and your Pokémon as well. Perhaps a vacation is in order?”I heard the slow, rusty sound of a mechanical trap jaw shutting closed.
“Vacation?” I asked, meekly.
“I just so happen to have tickets, you see…” Sandy fished out a ticket out of her pocket that was terribly crinkled. “…to the Sinnoh Battle Park. Me plus one, naturally. Seeing your impressive victory, I was wondering if you would accompany me.” She smirked.
No words came out of my mouth as I stared at her in questionable concern. One did not simply ‘Acquire Sinnoh Battle Park’ tickets, as they were reserved for only the best of the best of trainers. Beating the elite four was simply a pre-requisite for obtaining a ticket. Spectators of the park paid thousands just to get a nose bleed seat to watch the champions of the world duke it out on a grand, giant stage. This was the opportunity of a lifetime, but a burning question still remained.
“How on EARTH did you get that?!” I blurted.
“Oh this?” She flashed her ticket again, smirking at my bewildered expression. “Meh, I’ve had it awhile.”
“But how did you get it!?”
Sandy’s face took a darker turn, and suddenly she appeared much more solemn than usual. “I don’t want to be treated differently. I like you for who you are, and I want you to like me for who I am right now. I don’t want any of this to change, okay?”
I gave her a perplexed, bewildered, questioning look.
“Sandy’s short for something.” She responded quietly.
No.
“My full name’s Alessandra.”
No way. Nope. This is a trick.
“I run the Battle Factory in the Sinnoh battle park.”
I knew Alessandra. I knew ALL the frontier brains and Tycoons by heart. They were in all the papers, and they were all trainers talked about. They were the
best of the best, usually interviewed mocking the trainers that had tried to face them. It fit too well…
“My mom is Dahlia; she runs the Battle Arcade.”
My brain slowly started to melt as the pieces slid into place.
“Ever since Thorton retired ten years ago, they hired me to fill in his place.”
“Y…you only would have been ten!” I stuttered.
“It’s not hard; I beat the elite for when I was seven.”
My jaw hurt from being unnaturally extended for so long. Did she train the Pokémon that beat the elite four from such a young age!? Compared to her I was nothing, a seventeen year old without all of his badges, let along the elite four beyond me. Did I even know her?
“…Do you see me differently now?” Alessandra asked quietly, with a hint of sadness in her voice. I looked at the ground, thoughts racing. How had I even developed feelings for this person that I hadn’t even knew? What else didn’t I know about her? Upon reflection, she really hadn’t told me much about herself at all… I didn’t know what siblings she had, what her middle name was, or even if her parents were still alive.
…I knew nothing…
“…Do you want to talk?” Sandy asked politely. Our Pokémon around us stopped their own conversations, and looked at us curiously now that we had gone silent. For a rare time, we returned them to their Pokeballs, excusing ourselves for an evening alone.
“Yes please…” I nodded, head still bowed. We found a quiet clearing in the trees, with the gentle bubbling of a brook nearby. Sandy placed down a blanket, and we laid upon it together, watching the night sky, and listening to each other’s slow, calm breaths.
“So…what do you want to know?” Sandy asked lightly, breathing into the cold, night air. |
(Sandy POV)
“What’s it like?”
“…Stressful, at times. Exhilarating. Only a small amount of time is actually spent fighting, you know. Much more is spent studying, looking over the logs of the battle, figuring out what you did wrong, or right, and how you can improve.”
“…Why did you come to Kanto?”
I shifted uncomfortably on the sheet. “G-get away, I guess.”
“From what?”
“…Everything.” I sighed. “There’s…a lot of pressure. I’m not just a Frontier Brain, I’m Dehlia’s daughter. People expect me to be the best, everyone wants a battle, and if I were to ever lose, it ends up all over the papers, and I would get calls non-stop. Battling became less of a sport and more of a force of pure stress, where if I slip up just once it’s like I can’t breathe for days.”
“You don’t like it?”
“No…” I sighed, frustrated with myself. “I like it, It’s just a bit much some days. Kanto is different, it’s calm. I can put my hair down and I won’t be hunted by the paparazzi, and if I have a battle it can be for fun and not for keeps. Plus, well…”
“What?”
“I like it because you’re here.” I smiled awkwardly. “I get vacations every so often, and lately I’ve spent them all in Kanto just to visit you. You didn’t like me because I was the best, or because I was famous; you liked me for who I was.”
Josh didn’t respond after that. His eyes were closed, and he rested his head on his hands. His breathing was deep and calm, and he seemed to be sleeping.
“Penny for your thoughts?” I prodded.
“…I don’t know.” He replied. “Perhaps I feel a bit distant. I do like you, and I’m flattered that you would choose to spend your time outside battles with me, but at the same time Alessandra is who you are also. I feel as if you’ve only revealed a portion of yourself to me, and that there’s more that I don’t know about you then I do. I feel a bit lost.”
My throat tightened. Why did I feel guilty? I had never really lied to him, I had just never really explained much about my past. Our texts were mostly superficial, and our conversations involved our plans for the future, not our events in the past. I knew a lot about him, mostly because I had asked. He asked as well, but I had always managed to divert his questions, and regain control of the conversation…
“I’m sorry.” I whispered, after a moment of silence. Josh continued to rest, though in sleep or deep thought I did not know.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” A voice rose from Josh. It wasn’t accusatory or sad; he simply asked it like a simple fact.
“I didn’t want you to see me like...” I faltered.
“Like I see you now?”
“…y-yeah.”
Silence enveloped the air once again. I shifted on the blanket once more, unable to get comfortable on the small, pinkish sheet. After struggling for a moment, Josh reached and put an arm around my stomach, and pulled me towards him. My head landed on his chest, and he held his arm around me, shielding me from the cool, night air.
Thump…thump…
“I can hear your heart.” I whispered, laying my head further on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Josh ran his fingers though my hair and smiled.
The wind blew against us both, and I leaned closer towards him.
“How do you see me now?” I asked hesitantly.
A moment passed before he responded. “Well, I’m pretty sure I’m going to owe you dinner and a movie, so for one I’d call you a sneak.” He smiled, hugging me closer. I giggled at his unexpected conclusion, then rested my head back on his chest.
Thump.
“Honestly though.”
“Honestly? I...I guess I’m just a bit hurt. I wish you wouldn’t have kept this from me, and that I knew more about you.”
Thump.
I closed my eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“For me hurting or for your actions?”
“…Both…” I responded after some thought.
“Why? My feelings are my own concern, and as for your actions, you had your reasons, which were not illogical.”
“Your feelings are my concern!” I barked. Josh sat up and gave me a weird look.
“Why?” He asked, eyes covered with the shadows of the night.
“Because…you’re my boyfriend. And I care about you.”
Josh turned to me, a large grin appearing on his face. “D’aawwww!”
“Oh shut up!” I exclaimed, punching his shoulder. He grinned and rubbed his shoulder before we resumed our normal position.
Thump.
“Are you mad at me?” I asked.
“No.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Thump.
“Do you have questions?”
“Yes. Right now though, I prefer the tranquility of the night over my slew of questions.”
“It really is beautiful tonight…”
“That she is.”
I turned and glared at Josh, who gave me a sheepish shrug and blushed.
“That was the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.” I growled, swatting his nose with my hand.
“Yeah, well, take it or leave it.” He grinned, face momentarily flushed with color.
“I’ll take it.” I smiled, and leaned forward, pressing my lips against his.
“How kind of you…” He mumbled sarcastically though the kiss. He brushed my hair gently with one hand as we kissed, feeling the warm air of each other’s breath on our faces. Seconds turned to minutes in our embrace, and I pressed further into him as our kiss grew deeper and more intimate. Slowly, I moved my leg over his, and rested on top of him completely, still engaged in our kiss. I slipped, and in trying to regain myself pressed my knee into a place a knee shouldn’t be pressed into. Josh cringed instantly, shrinking back into the ground.
“Thorey!” I mumbled, re-arranging my weight appropriately.
“Isssh okay.” Josh slurred, still engaged in the kiss. I pressed my hand against his chest, and moved down, kissing his cheek, and slowly moving down his neck.
Thump…thump…thump…
I snaked my hand downward, rubbing against his chest and stomach, until I came over the fork in his legs. With the same hand, I started undoing the buttons.
Thump…thump…
Josh caught my hand, and held it in his own, and I felt him grin, laughing quietly to himself.
“Shut up, I don’t have a lot of practice here!” I flushed, pushing myself off his chest so I could look him in the eye. He smirked back at me, green eyes gleaming in the night. “What are you smiling at!?”
“Might look a bit scandalous, don’t you think?”
“What? Us in the woods?”
“No, the great and invincible Alessandra ousted as a pedophile.”
I jumped off him, startled. “What!?”
“I’m seventeen.” He grinned mischievously.
“Y…you’re what!? B-but you just graduated!”
“Skipped a grade.” He smirked. “Don’t worry, my birthday’s in two weeks, so you’re not too weird.” He winked.
I resumed my coy gaze. “You’re a piece of jailbait, you know that?”
“Oh shut up, you’re like barely two years older than I am.”
I looked him up and down, then looked back into his eyes. He cocked his head, and stared back into mine.
“Meh, you’re worth the scandal.”
“Pedo.” He grinned, laying down on the blanket.
“Jailbait.” I smirked, laying on top of him once more. He tried to sit up, but I pushed him back to the ground, and forced my way back into his mouth. He grinned in compliance, gently tugging at my hair with his hand, and with the other continuing to return my embrace. With added caution and a touch of mischief, I carefully repositioned my knee against his lower stomach.
“What are you-”
“Shhhh.” I ordered. I leaned back down, a large amount of my weight now shifted to his chest and now, lower stomach. We resumed kissing, and I continually applied pressure to his lower stomach.
“…Um…” Josh pulled away for a moment, wincing. “Can you…stop that? You’re…hurting me a bit.”
“Nothing?” I frowned.
“What do you-” Josh’s eyes flashed with recognition. “Oh. OH. Um, well, I guess I’m just dehydrated? I haven’t had much to drink today…”
“Well, we’ll have to fix that, won’t we? Wouldn’t want you to be dehydrated now.”
“Is that your only reasoning?” Josh grinned slyly.
“What other reason would I have?” I smirked, grabbing two water bottles out of my pack, and tossing him one. Josh opened his, and gave me a mock cheer with the bottle.
“So, rules? Are we just going to play last-man-standing?” He questioned, carefully sipping from the bottle.
“You can kneel if you want.” I smirked |
(Josh POV)
I just finished off my bottle, and Sandy laid beside me finishing hers. The night was still, as the sun had long since set, giving way to the sea of stars which filled the night sky. The moon shone it’s brilliance against the tree leaves, dousing them with an off-white, ethereal glow.
“So when you lose…” I taunted my chocolate companion, “…what are we going to do about the, um, ‘after effects’?”
“That brook is nearby. When you lose…” She grinned. “…I’ll watch you wash off there.”
“It’s like fifty degrees out here. That water is going to be freezing!”
“You don’t have to be wearing your clothes to wash them.”
“I-I know that, but, I assumed, I mean, that, you know-”
“Awww, you’re cute when you’re flustered.”
“I am not flustered!” I blushed.
“Careful; if you get any redder you’ll burst a blood vessel.”
“I’m not-”
“Vooooool!” A voice quietly echoed through the forest.
I looked at Sandy, and she looked back at me with the same inquisitive expression.
“Voooool….” The voice echoed once more, filling the forest with the strange hum. Silently, I grabbed a Pokeball from my belt, and Sandy did the same.
Behind us, an array of prismatic lights met our gaze. Blues, purples, yellows and greens met our gaze in small, calm, floating balls of light. The trees nearby were now bathed in the serene glow, taking on a new, otherworldly color. The grass shone with different colors; some bathed in gold, and others a brilliant red. Time seemed to stop as we stood silently, watching these strange beings interact with their surroundings and changing their appearance with their multicolored glow.
“Vooooooool…” They hummed, content with floating around and admiring their surroundings.
“What are they?” I breathed lightly, stealing a questioning glance at Sandy.
“I don’t know; I left my phone in my bag. You check.”
“What?”
“The Pokedex app?”
“…What?”
“Oh, some trainer you are.” Sandy grumbled, stealing my phone, and pressing a quick series of keys. After a moment, she tossed my phone back at me.
“Give it a sec to load.”
We continued to watch the lights in silence, taking in the rare and beautiful sight. After a moment, my phone gave a small ‘ding’ of satisfaction, and I saw the new app that Sandy had installed. I quietly pressed the button, and held it before me, camera facing the lights.
“Volbeat.” A computerized voice spoke quietly in the darkness of the woods. “With their taillights aglow, Volbeat fly in a swarm, drawing colorful designs of light in the night sky.”
On my phone, it listed the stats and dietary habits of the strange Pokémon.
“Are you gonna catch one?” Sandy asked, her hand brushing against mine.
“Naw. Let’s leave them be.”
We watched them for a while longer, as they began to move as one, generating shapes in the light of the moon. Together, they swirling faster and faster, generating shape after shape with practiced proficiency. Triangles, circles, stars, and pentagons swirled into existence, gradually shifting in hues as if possessed by a singular, ever changing emotion. Reds twisted into oranges, which swirled into yellows, which melded into greens and then deep blues as the vortex of color and shapes melded on into the night.
Suddenly, the lights all went out in synchrony. The woods were once again thrown into darkness, with the only respite being the shimmering light from the moon.
“And you wanted to stay inside.” I mocked, bumping playfully against Sandy.
---
“Mmmmmm…”
“Mmm?”
“Mmmmm.”
I crossed my legs lightly, and rested my head in my hands. A soft breeze blew against the tender grass beneath our blanket, but despite that, I was warm. Sandy laid haphazardly across my chest; our lips inches apart, content for now with just small words. Her body warmed my own…or perhaps it was the blanket? Or, perhaps it was the warmth filling my bladder; a fact that Sandy was far too well aware. I wasn’t uncomfortable yet, but my need was apparent, and I felt a pleasant but growing buzz of urgency gnawing around my lower stomach.
“How you doing?” Sandy purred in my ear.
“Okayish.” I responded, stroking her hair. “You?”
“Mmmmm…less okayish.” She fidgeted.
“Oh?”
“I had a head start.” She winced.
“Oh, did you now?” I questioned, sliding my arm across her waist, then pressing lightly against her bronze abdomen.
“Hey!” She jolted, slapping my hand away.
“What?”
“You’re not allowed to touch me there!” She belittled, a mock look of shock crossing her face.
“Oh come on! You’ve touched me there twice tonight alone!” I yelped.
“So? Doesn’t mean you can touch me.” She smiled, and snuggled closer to me with a sly grin crossing her face.
“Oh, I’m just not allowed to touch you at all now, is that it?”
“Yup.”
“But we’re touching right now!” I protested.
“I forgive you.” She giggled, pressing further into me, as if using me as a giant pillow. I rolled my eyes.
The night continued, gracing us with tranquility and contentment. After a moment or two, Sandy shifted again, and pressed against herself lightly.
“I can help you with that.”
Sandy glared at me with mock indignation.
“Keep your hands free.” I smirked.
“And you’d be willing to bear that burden, just for me?”
“Absolutely, my queen.” I purred.
“Well, in that case…absolutely not.” She flicked my nose quite hard, making a cracking sound against the cartilage.
“Ow!” I yelped, and instinctively covered my injured appendage.
“Shit, I did NOT mean to flick you that hard. Are you okay!?” Sandy quickly sat up, a look of shock crossing her face. A dark thought crept into my mind as
I continued covering my nose.
“Uh, yeah, I’m fine, don’t worry about it.” I muttered, still covering my nose.
“Oh my gosh, are you bleeding? Shit, shit, shit! Let me see it! Oh my gosh I’m so sorry! I was just messing around I swear!”
“I’m fine!” I continued to insist.
“Is it bleeding? Did I break it? Let me see it!” Sandy whispered, wide-eyed. She pulled at the hand covering my nose gently but firmly, visibly terrified about what she might see.
“F-fine, but don’t freak out.” I pleaded. She pulled on my hand once more. “Promise.”
“P-promise.” She squeaked. She pulled away my hand, revealing…
Nothing. I looked up and flashed one of my famous carefree smiles, and watched her expression turn from one of shocked terror to one of slow, smoldering anger.
“…you…you….YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Sandy shouted glaring at me with her perfect caramel, shimmering eyes. “I thought I BROKE IT! You…you-!”
I snatched her by the waist and pulled her in for a kiss. For a few moments, I felt her angry, hot lips against my own, as she tried to convey her aggression in a pure intimate form. After few seconds, she growled and ended this kiss, glaring daggers into my own, carefree emerald eyes.
I leaned to sit up, but she pressed her hand on my chest and forced me back to the ground.
“No.” She growled, pressing her weight into her palm, keeping me pinned to the floor. “You don’t get to get up now! I’m mad at you!”
“But aren’t you happy that I’m okay? Doesn’t your joy at my health surpass your anger for my farce?”
“No. I’m still ups-” Sandy grimaced lightly, and pressed her hand roughly against her groin, grumbling something unintelligible.
“Ooooh, that bad huh?” I smirked coquettishly.
“S-shut up.”
“Let me help you with that…” I shifted my weight suddenly, knocking her off balance, and causing her to land roughly at my side. Before she could protest, I
managed to get the upper hand, and rolled on top of her less than modest form.
“Hey!” Sandy yelped as I rolled on top of her. “What are you doing!?”
“Distracting you.” I pressed my lips against hers, and slid my arms down her sides, relishing the warmth and the smooth feel of her auburn skin.
“…Mmmmmm ‘k…” She mumbled, emotions forgotten in the sudden kiss. |
“Aaaaahahahaaaa….!” Sandy whined, legs pushed together. She clutched my hand in the throes of her desperation, slowly grinding her knees back and forth. “Oh my gooosh I have to pee!”
“So soon? We just started…” I whispered in her ear, nibbling it softly in the way I knew drove her insane.
“…t…the ear’s cheating…” She mumbled, unable to form coherent words as I ran my mouth over her ear. “Sta-, ah, urmmmm….”
“Do you want me to-?” I breathed lightly, still running my tongue lightly over it.
“N-no, d-don’t stop…” She sighed, completely transfixed.
I rewarded her compliance by becoming slightly rougher, introducing a bit of a scratching element with my teeth against the smooth skin of her inner ear. A slight moan escaped her lips, though from desperation or pleasure I didn’t know. I bit further, introducing a larger amount of her ear to the heated texture of my mouth, forcing her to savor every second of the deliberately slow drag of my canines on her ear. She panted, making other unintelligible noises as I continued my slight game of seeing how long this distraction would last, before-
“Ahh…!” Sandy flinched suddenly, smashing her legs together and groaning. “Josh, I…”
“What~?” I smirked, moving to her other ear, which had received an unfortunate lack of attention.
“I c-can’t…mmph…” She shifted and struggled uncomfortably against the pressure of her bladder, eliciting a small grin from myself. She writhed predictably
for a few moments, before once again falling into complacence under my care.
“Aaaaahaaaaa…” She muttered, a mixture of a whine and a moan escaped her lips. One of her legs began to shake unconsciously as my torturous pleasure continued, paralyzing her to the spot.
She sat up suddenly, surprising me by ending my touch against her ear. She leaned forward and pressed against herself with both hands; a soft cry eliciting from her lips.
“Aaaaah! Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, ohmygosh!”
“How ya doing?” I grinned devilishly in the light of the moon.
“Shut up!” She growled, pressing harder against herself. I reached for her chin to steady her head once more and moved to bite her ear, but she pushed me aside. “No! No more of that. I can’t…I can’t concentrate with you doing that!”
“The great and powerful Alessandra has a weakness…~” I smirked, inching closer to my struggling girlfriend.
“Shut up! You’re ticklish as hell and I don’t- MMMPH!” She winced and pressed against herself again. It wasn’t enough, and she shifted to a very provocative pose; her back against the ground, but her legs above and to each side of her, bent in a careless fashion. She grabbed herself completely with one hand, and with the other pressed on the first. “-t-torture you with it!”
“You’re pretty ticklish too, if I recall.”
“DON’T. YOU. DARE.” Sandy stopped shifting for a moment to give me the coldest, darkest stare she was capable of giving while lying prone in her awkward position. Her eyes never left mine as she continued to glare not at, but though my own.
“So you mean…” I inched my way closer, with a vile grin spreading across my face.
“DON’T.”
“That you wouldn’t want me to…”
“YOU.” She glared, legs fidgeting lightly in the air as she pressed against herself.
“…do this?” I pushed her shirt up suddenly, and quickly pressed my open lips against her coffee colored skin. I blew hard, eliciting a hilarious noise that echoed though the darkened, but moonlit woods.
*FFFfffffffffffflllppppppth*
“HAHAHAHA!” Sandy snorted with laugher, squeezing her eyes shut. She convulsed forward, pressing harder against her groin.
I took another breath as Sandy’s laugher died down.
“Stop! Stop, stop, stop, stop! I’m not KIDDING!” Sandy glared at me, grinning with her light caramel eyes. “Seriously! Don’t you- I SEE what you’re doing!” She growled playfully. I gave her a quick grin. “Don’t smile at me! Stop with your- MMMPH!” She pressed against herself again, wincing and rubbing her hand against herself. I took this opportunity to surprise her again with another raspberry.
“AAAH!” Sandy’s eyes shot open, and she bent forward again, pressing her hands as hard as she could against her crotch. “Shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!”
A quick splash could be heard against the fabric of her jeans. She looked down in shock, and noticed the small, egg sized damp spot covering the bottom center of her groin.
“Aaahaaahaaaa!” Sandy moaned, giving herself one final death grip. “JOSH! You made me pee in my jeans! Augh, help me MMMPH!” She shifted suddenly, crossing her legs with her hands still firmly in place. “Help me get these damn things off before I piss myself!” She growled.
“But you look so cute in them~!” I cooed, prying her arms away from her groin, and holding them down at her sides.
“JOOOSH!” She yelped, “I’m not kidding anymore! I’m going to pee myself; I seriously can’t stop it anymore!”
“Oh?” I held her down firmly. She stopped squirming, but held her legs firmly crossed, lying against the ground. Her caramel eyes burned into my own as she shot me one lase heart melting, begging look.
“Please.” She implored, biting her lip, and looking desperately at me.
“Please what?”
“J-just please.” She begged firmly, bobbling slightly up and down.
“What can I do?”
“I don’t have time for thissss!” Sandy moaned, shaking up and down as I held her limbs in place.
“Want me to let you go?”
“YESSSS!”
“Kay.” I grinned and let her go, amused to see her instantly shrink into a ball, pressing herself as hard as she could muster. After a moment she stood up, supporting herself against a tree as she tore at the buttons keeping her jeans in place.
“Augh!” She shouted in frustration as the button stayed firmly intertwined against the fabric, refusing to unhinge. She let out another whine of frustration, and reached lower to grab herself again. “Josh, h-help me with the damn button! I c-can’t get it right now!”
“Sure.” I walked over and grabbed both sides of the fabric, pulling them taught and releasing the button’s hold. She shuttered at the sudden space her bladder was now given to expand, and I took the opportunity to press on that spot just slightly with the same hand that held the aggravating button.
“Ah!” She yelped in surprise as a quick spurt escaped down her leg, dampening the inner lining of her once dry jeans. “JOSH!” She hissed in anger, grabbing fiercely down on herself to stem the flow.
“My bad~” I lied, letting go of the now loose fabric. She grabbed at the edges and tore downward, but in her haste lost her footing and fell to the ground, pants barely above her knees.
“URK!” She yelped, not in pain but in frustration. She kicked and grabbed the jeans with one hand, attempting to firmly shove them down herself and free herself. I laughed, and grabbed the bottom cuff of her pants to help pull them off. Seeing my now honest attempt at helping her, Sandy pushed herself off the
ground with a small hop. Upon landing a shocked expression crossed her face, and the once small damp spot grew immensely. A small hissing sound could be heard hitting the fabric of the still-in-place jeans; ones that would unfortunately not survive Sandy’s desperation unscathed. Sandy gave me a surprised, guilty, awkward smile as her jeans changed from soaked to drenched, and the hissing sound grew louder. She leaned back into the grass and sighed, resigned to her fate and choosing to simply enjoy the final, big release.
After more than a minute, the hissing sound died down, and she laid contently in the now dampened grass, breathing heavily.
“That.” She panted, eyeing me now with a coy, eager gaze. “…will never get old…” |
(Josh POV)
<Nothing happened.>
<Liaaaar!>
<Seriously!>
<Seriously a liar~!>
Static grinned knowingly as we all prepared for our flight. It was the next morning, and Sandy was gearing up her Charzard, while I was putting the final preparations on Skarmorry. There was much to do; bags needed to be packed, arrangements needed to be made. It was a long flight, especially with the extra weight of the trainer on the backs of our mounts. We needed to plan for meals, resting points, and many other factors before our trip.
<Un->
<Shhh, Skarr!> I commanded, trying to focus.
<-necessary.> Skarr growled.
<We need to make sure you don’t overexert yourself. We could just take a plane if it’s too much stress->
<JOSH. I have taken this pampering for far too long now.> Skarr tossed off the bag he held in the emphasis of his point.
<Skarr!> I berated.
<Josh!> Skarr berated back, staring directly back at me. I stumbled back, unnerved by Skarr’s blatant disobedience. <This is absurdity! I am not Atlas; the sky is not my burden! Insisting I rest every minuscule moment I have flown is idiotic, and you know I am capable of more. I will not have you babying me like a hatchling!>
<Flying that long would make any Pokémon tired, Skarr. We need->
<I’m not any Pokémon Josh! I am a Skarmory; champions of endurance and the air. Our wings were created to be both durable under stress, and lightweight enough to fly. My kin spends months airborne without roosting, and often both mates and gives birth WHILE FLYING. And!> Skarmory punctuated the ‘and’ with a prod of his steel wing. <Might I remind you that eggs cannot fly! So the female must CATCH her eggs, mid-flight, WHILE still giving birth to other eggs!>
<…I find that unlikely.> I smirked, and gave Skarr a dubious look.
<…It’s a rare event mind you; normally females can land in time…but it HAS happened! My point is, I have no trouble with land, and I give up my superiority of the air freely and without reluctance to be here, with you and the others. BUT! When the times should arise that you need a mobile steed, I shouldn’t have to be ‘suited up and prepared’. If it’s a long flight, in your terms, simply grab a snack, and we’ll be off. All this planning is both insulting and unnecessary.>
<I didn’t mean to offend you Skarr, I’m just trying to look out for you.>
<I realize; I’m not upset, this over preparation just makes me feel…>
A slight pause filled the air, as Skarr searched for the right word.
<…silly?> Nova offered. Skarr and I both turned our heads to the small Charmander, not expecting him to speak up. Nova shrunk back at the sudden attention.
<Yes, ‘silly’. I feel silly.> Skarr reluctantly admitted.
<Silly Skarr!> Wigglytuff cheered.
<Alterations are not clever, nor cute. You will refrain from addressing me as such from this moment forward.>
<Snarky Skarr!> Static joined in.
<Static, need I remind you that you do not need to be conscious during this trip?> Skarr walked towards him threateningly with poison dripping from his sharpened, steel feathers.
<Scary Skarr!> Sandy jumped in.
<As Josh’s companion, I respectfully ask that you halt your jesting. It is unbecoming->
<Snooty Skarr!> I grinned.
Skarr turned to glare at me, with two dull amber eyes. His gaze pierced right though my core, in pure, unfiltered annoyance. His neck snapped towards Nova, glaring daggers at the poor Charmander.
<Go on then.> Skarr growled, venom dripping from his feathers.
<G-go on w-with what?> Nova shrunk back.
<You started this, and you’re going to finish it. Go on.> Skarr dared Nova, approaching him with wings flared. Nova stumbled backwards, tripping on a mound of dirt, then shielding himself against Skarr’s presence.
<…S…s-super Skarr?> He pleaded.
<Good.> Skarr flapped twice, then tucked his wings back against his sides. <Now, for the sake of my sanity, can we please be off?>
<Sarcastic Skarr!> Static cheered.
Skarr collapsed into a silver mess of feathers, crumbling before me. <This is going to stick, isn’t it Josh? I tried…I really did…>
<Sullen Skarr…> I patted him gently on the top of his head.
---------------------------
(Skarr POV)
<…>
<Guardians of the flames INDEED.>
<…>
<Well, at least we can live secure, knowing the seas of molten rock beneath our feet have such ferocious and enduring protectors.> I mocked.
<…>
<Come now, you must have some retort! Or have all the flames you have blown boiled your mind as well?>
<…it will not be today, and it will not be tomorrow, Slicer of the Winds, but one day…I shall destroy you…> The Charzard panted, sweat coating her outer fur, and a mask of fatigue binding her features.
My beak contorted into a smirk as I flew slightly faster, slowly outpacing the draconic pokemon. The Charzard panted, and strained her wings to catch up.
<…The inner circles of hell shall beckon you in the afterlife...>
<Can’t you just play with me?> I mocked. <Can’t we just have fun?>
<…This torture cannot be described as fun…I would say I have lost feeling in my wings, but in truth, I feel every pained flap. I have never felt this level of exhaustion in my life, and I’m sure I would have failed…> Her thoughts cut off for a moment, and she lost some altitude before recovering. <…If the punishment was not stranding my ledge in the endless seas…>
<If you failed, I would have taken the task, and carried both humans. Your master’s life was not truly at risk.> I shrugged.
<Even you could not support two trainers this distance.> She panted, grinding her teeth. I prepared a retort, but instead bit my tongue.
<Perhaps, but in a life or death situation, I could carry them a small way.> I reasoned. <Assuming you failed close to the island, I could reasonably ferry
them a mile or two.>
<…I’m just glad it doesn’t have to come for that. Any longer and I’m certain I would have faltered…> The Charzard sighed, the island now coming into view.
I gracefully gained speed, and swopped towards the ground with my kin’s natural elegance and grace. Seconds before landing I stalled and spilled the air beneath my wings, then landed expertly on my talons. Charzard was not as graceful, clumsily attempting to skid to a halt, failing, then collapsing on her stomach.
“Great job Charzard. Let’s get you some rest, shall we? Thank you so much.” Sandy slid off the Charzard’s back, patting her graciously on the head.
<Ah, at last you are rescued from your toil. Not a moment too soon, hmmm?> I mocked one final time.
<I don’t go back on my word, you waltzing mirror. There will come a time for us to duel once more, and on the battle field I will destroy you for your insolence.> She smirked an exhausted, under bite grin. <But until that day…I bid you adieu.>
<Adieu as well. Thank you for the company.>
Sandy pressed the Pokeball to her fur, and she disappeared in the far too familiar bath of red light.
<You too, Skarr! You did awesome, thanks so much! I have to admit, I thought flying over an ocean would take quite a toll, and I was worried!> Josh complemented, turning on his Pokespeak once more.
<Ill placed faith, as usual I see.> I grinned. <Not a hint of fatigue, and not a drop of sweat.> I said proudly, displaying my wings with dignity.
<CAN Skarrmory sweat?> Josh asked, the odd question crossing his mind.
<As if my kin were capable of something so uncouth.> I smirked, rolling my eyes. <We are always preened to perfection; not a feather out of place, and not a talon unfiled. Never smeared or scratched; always perfectly reflective and refined.>
<The perfect picture of vanity.> A female voice interrupted my thoughts. I turned to see Sandy grinning beside me.
<Vain? Oh, how I weep with your judgment!> I feel to the floor, covering myself with my wings. <Am I doomed to forever be labeled as a heathen; my pride dooming me to my downfall?>
<I didn’t mean it like that-> Sandy began
<Oh what pride had I!> I continued, pretending to sob. <Forever claiming my essence to the depths of demons simply for liking to be clean! Selling my soul for my reflective down, and my heart to the insatiable devils of the underworld just to look half-decent!>
<S-Skarr!> Sandy couldn’t help but snicker.
<Like Icarus, I have flown too close to the sun, wishing to be cleanly in a world full of grime. Can my soul ever be redeemed!?>
<Well, you’re definitely not tired!> Josh chuckled. Sandy’s face was pure red, both from blushing and laughter.
Once we calmed down, I took a moment to view my surroundings. Many tall buildings greeted the horizon, with many people and Pokemon bustling about. Josh looked expectantly at Sandy; his hands placed lightly in his pockets.
“So…where to, my lady?” |
(Augh! I forgot to update this week! As punishment, here's two updates. My bad! Will be back on scedule next week, my deepest appologies )
(Skarr POV)
<…>
<Guardians of the flames INDEED.>
<…>
<Well, at least we can live secure, knowing the seas of molten rock beneath our feet have such ferocious and enduring protectors.> I mocked.
<…>
<Come now, you must have some retort! Or have all the flames you have blown boiled your mind as well?>
<…it will not be today, and it will not be tomorrow, Slicer of the Winds, but one day…I shall destroy you…> The Charzard panted, sweat coating her outer
fur, and a mask of fatigue binding her features.
My beak contorted into a smirk as I flew slightly faster, slowly outpacing the draconic pokemon. The Charzard panted, and strained her wings to catch up.
<…The inner circles of hell shall beckon you in the afterlife...>
<Can’t you just play with me?> I mocked. <Can’t we just have fun?>
<…This torture cannot be described as fun…I would say I have lost feeling in my wings, but in truth, I feel every pained flap. I have never felt this level of exhaustion in my life, and I’m sure I would have failed…> Her thoughts cut off for a moment, and she lost some altitude before recovering. <…If the punishment was not stranding my ledge in the endless seas…>
<If you failed, I would have taken the task, and carried both humans. Your master’s life was not truly at risk.> I shrugged.
<Even you could not support two trainers this distance.> She panted, grinding her teeth. I prepared a retort, but instead bit my tongue.
<Perhaps, but in a life or death situation, I could carry them a small way.> I reasoned. <Assuming you failed close to the island, I could reasonably ferry them a mile or two.>
<…I’m just glad it doesn’t have to come for that. Any longer and I’m certain I would have faltered…> The Charzard sighed, the island now coming into view.
I gracefully gained speed, and swopped towards the ground with my kin’s natural elegance and grace. Seconds before landing I stalled and spilled the air beneath my wings, then landed expertly on my talons. Charzard was not as graceful, clumsily attempting to skid to a halt, failing, then collapsing on her stomach.
“Great job Charzard. Let’s get you some rest, shall we? Thank you so much.” Sandy slid off the Charzard’s back, patting her graciously on the head.
<Ah, at last you are rescued from your toil. Not a moment too soon, hmmm?> I mocked one final time.
<I don’t go back on my word, you waltzing mirror. There will come a time for us to duel once more, and on the battle field I will destroy you for your insolence.> She smirked an exhausted, under bite grin. <But until that day…I bid you adieu.>
<Adieu as well. Thank you for the company.>
Sandy pressed the Pokeball to her fur, and she disappeared in the far too familiar bath of red light.
<You too, Skarr! You did awesome, thanks so much! I have to admit, I thought flying over an ocean would take quite a toll, and I was worried!> Josh complemented, turning on his Pokespeak once more.
<Ill placed faith, as usual I see.> I grinned. <Not a hint of fatigue, and not a drop of sweat.> I said proudly, displaying my wings with dignity.
<CAN Skarrmory sweat?> Josh asked, the odd question crossing his mind.
<As if my kin were capable of something so uncouth.> I smirked, rolling my eyes. <We are always preened to perfection; not a feather out of place, and not a talon unfiled. Never smeared or scratched; always perfectly reflective and refined.>
<The perfect picture of vanity.> A female voice interrupted my thoughts. I turned to see Sandy grinning beside me.
<Vain? Oh, how I weep with your judgment!> I feel to the floor, covering myself with my wings. <Am I doomed to forever be labeled as a heathen; my pride dooming me to my downfall?>
<I didn’t mean it like that-> Sandy began
<Oh what pride had I!> I continued, pretending to sob. <Forever claiming my essence to the depths of demons simply for liking to be clean! Selling my soul for my reflective down, and my heart to the insatiable devils of the underworld just to look half-decent!>
<S-Skarr!> Sandy couldn’t help but snicker.
<Like Icarus, I have flown too close to the sun, wishing to be cleanly in a world full of grime. Can my soul ever be redeemed!?>
<Well, you’re definitely not tired!> Josh chuckled. Sandy’s face was pure red, both from blushing and laughter.
Once we calmed down, I took a moment to view my surroundings. Many tall buildings greeted the horizon, with many people and Pokemon bustling about. Josh looked expectantly at Sandy; his hands placed lightly in his pockets.
“So…where to, my lady?”
---
(Josh POV)
<Anywhere!?> Static looked up at Sandy with wide, unbelievably hopeful turquoise eyes.
<Anywhere.> Sandy confirmed, smiling to herself. <The rules are different here; all Pokémon are assumed to be owned, so roaming by yourselves isn’t frowned upon. There’s plenty to do, and several Pokémon-only activities, so we might actually be slowing you down!> Sandy snickered, then caught sight of my troubled expression. <…That is, if it’s alright with your trainer.>
<…J-just make sure you travel in pairs, alright? And we’ll meet back at the Pokécenter at nine. If you don’t know the time, just ask someone wearing a watch. And make sure to travel in pairs->
<Oh COME ON!> Static whined, paws waving angrily in the air. <It’s our vacation! Let us run around and stuff, don’t make me babysit NOVA all day!>
<Static, I wasn’t->
<Don’t ‘Static I wasn’t-’ me! You were TOTALLY going to stick me with him! Can’t I have one day->
<I’ll take Nova.> Myst interrupted. Static turned to her in bewilderment, and I smiled to myself.
<Wait, who would I be stuck with, then?> Static grumbled, still confused by the turn of events.
<That would be me, my yellow nuisance.> Skarr purred.
<That’s not better!> Static wailed.
<Whatever, I called dibs on Nova.> Myst stuck her tongue out at the Pikachu.
<I don’t care, I don’t want you either.> Static returned Myst’s rude expression.
<Well, you’re going to have to get along with someone.> I responded.
<Why?> Static whined. <Can’t…can’t I just go with you?>
<No, someone needs to keep Skarr company. Remember, this is only a day, bud.> I smiled, and nudged Static with my shoe, which perked him up a little.
<Also, Skarr! I’m trusting you to be the responsible one.>
<As always.> Skarr rolled his eyes.
<I’m serious! If someone does get lost, I’m going to need you there, by my side at nine to scout out the island and try to find them. Also, someone needs to look after Static while I’m gone, and I think you’re the best fit. Okay?>
<Can do.> Skarr nodded more seriously.
<Alright. See everyone at nine, by the Pokemon center. Have fun you guys! And everyone thank Sandy for this opportunity!>
<Thanks Sandy!>
<Um, thanks!>
<Thank you very much!>
<We appreciate the sentiment.>
<Thank you VERY much.> I smiled, now thinking in private chat, and kissed her on the tip of her nose. She winced, and grinned back.
<You’re very welcome. Shall we be off?>
<Where to, my lady?> I suddenly was overwhelmed by a sense of déjà vu.
<Where else, my soon opponent~?> Sandy hummed. <The Battle Factory!> |
(Skarr POV)
We walked for quite a ways, listening to the odd, yet familiar sounds of human communication bustle around us. Typically, Pokémon were not allowed to roam far from their trainers, else they would be mistaken for wild. It was a rare and happy privilege to walk amongst humans without having Josh nearby. Not that I minded of course…usually.
Once we had gotten a fair ways, I turned back to Static, and gave him a sarcastic glance. Not at all unexpectedly, he gave me a confused glance back.
“What?” He asked thoughtlessly.
“How long to do you plan on continuing this façade?”
“Fuh-what?”
“Façade. Illusion, falseness, the act of doing something while harboring intentions of doing it’s opposite.”
Static stared at me for a moment. “…what?”
“LYING, Static. How long do you intend to continue lying!” I deadpanned angrily.
“What are you talking about?!” Static yelped, obviously still confused.
“I know you don’t wish to spend the afternoon under my eyes, and I certainly harbor no intention of babysitting you throughout the day. It’s clear that Josh has long since gone, so I was wondering, why are we continuing this façade? Let us leave now, and we’ll meet up at 8:30 at the Pokémon center. We’ll be back before Josh gets there, and we’ll have the days to ourselves, instead of being subjected to each other’s company.”
“…but that’s lying.” Static concluded.
“Yes, Static, that is lying.” I confirmed, rolling my eyes.
“Wouldn’t Josh be mad?”
“That is why Josh won’t find out…” I slowly explained, not doing well in the task of masking my condescension.
“Oh. OH. I see.” Static grinned. “Okay, okay, but you can’t tell him, right?”
“…Sure.”
“Great! Oh boy, oh boy! Okay, see you later Skarr!”
“Adios…” I muttered as I watched Skarr dash thought a crowd of civilians.
At last, a day to myself. I had sorely needed this. Although I had claimed such a flight from Kanto to the Battle Park would be a small feat, I admit that I hadn’t flown with added weight in quite some time. My wings were quite sore, and I felt like a well-deserved nap was in order.
After resting for a few hours, perhaps I could preen some of these loose feathers…maybe bathe a bit in one of the lakes, to ensure my coat gets the proper reflective sheen…
I landed on a roof of a tall building, and laid my head to rest. I felt warm and content. A perfect vacation indeed.
---
(Nova POV)
“Hey…um…”
<Yes?>
“C-can I ask you a question?”
<Yes, but only one, so choose wisely.>
“…W…what?”
<I kid.> Myst laughed, smiling at my awkward display. <Ask away.>
“…Why did you choose me?” I asked, after a slight pause. Myst stopped walking, and turned to face me.
“Why wouldn’t I choose you?” She demanded, reverting to her normal tongue.
“I-I don’t know.” I shrunk back.
“No, really. Out of them all, you’re the one with the most experience with human architecture. You would serve as a good guide to a young fox, in the land of humans.”
“Well…I don’t know, I haven’t gotten out that much…” I looked awkwardly aside.
“Well…” Zorua thought for a moment. “Well! Then we have something in common! Neither of us have seen many human buildings.”
“Hey, you’re right!”
“Exactly!” She smiled, and I smiled back. “I’m still going to need your help though. Do you know where we’re headed?”
“Nope.” I admitted, shrugging sheepishly.
“Do you know how to get back?”
“N-no…”
Myst narrowed her eyes. “Can you identify any nearby structures?”
I looked around. Surrounding us were many tall, ominous building with large archways and big windows. Many people walked briskly around us, going in or out of the large edifices.
“They...they’re buildings?”
Myst sighed lightly, and put a paw to her forehead. “See, this is why I choose you.”
“Why, b-because I’m useless, and I need someone to help me?” I felt tears brimming in the base of my eyes.
“No, because if I have to get lost, I want to get lost with you.”
I felt a weight lift off my chest. That almost felt…deep…coming from her.
“Thanks…!” I chirped.
“You can thank me by finding the Pokémon center, so we have a point of reference. Hoist me up, will you? I’ll create an illusion so we look like a person, so we get more space, and thus a better view.”
I didn’t know what illusion she was creating, but from the inside, it looked like the air was shimmering around us.
“Don’t touch the border.” She ordered, pointing at the edge of the mirage. “Now, give me your paw, and don’t move…” She tested my strength by pressing down on my paw, before darting onto it, and dashing onto my shoulders. From there, she placed her back paws on my collar, and hoisted herself up with her front paws hugging my head.
“Piggy back ride?” I inquired, laughing.
“Silence, steed!” Myst scoffed in a jokingly deep voice. “Go forth! Let us ride into the winds! Our quest beacons with the promise of glory and danger! Go, let us find our reference point, and avenge those lost in the brave battle of…” She faltered.
“Battle-Parkia!” I added, filling the void.
“Precisely! Charge, noble steed!” She gently prodded the back of my neck with a paw, mimicking a kicking motion, and ‘steering’ me with her hands on my head.
“Neiiigh!” I cried, going into a light jog though the bewildered crowd of people. The illusion caused people to politely move out of our way, which made navigating though the crowds much easier. Once we were free of the larger crowd I broke into a run, grabbing Myst’s back legs to ensure her stability.
“Where are you going?” Myst laughed as we ran through a grassy hill we clearly had not been though before.
“I don’t know!” I admitted, giggling. “You’re steering me!”
I raced down the hill, quickly gaining uncontrollable speed.
“Woaaah!” Myst commanded, pulling back on my head. I couldn’t stop, and when I tried, I ended up tripping and tumbling with her down the hill. With an
‘Oof!’ we landed next to each other, dinged up and scratched.
I groaned, but managed to giggle at the obscurity of our situation. “Aaaahahahaaa….”
Myst turned to me with a huge smile on her face. “Again, again!”
“You’re crazy.” I laughed, sitting up, and rubbing my head with one paw.
“Maybe!” She beamed, lying playfully on her back in the grass.
I pushed myself to a standing position. “Alright, fine, but not down the hill, alright?”
“Okay!” She smiled, a light blush crossing her face. “U-um…”
“What?” I asked.
“Could you help me up first?” Myst pleaded sheepishly. |
(Oh gosh, finals. ;_; sorry for the late update everyone! so much busyness... I'll make it up to you as soon as this is all over <3 )
(Josh POV)
“I have NO IDEA what I’m doing.”
I grinned at the mildly annoyed secretary as she sighed softly, and went over her instructions again. I was in the Battle Factory! In only moments, I would have the honor of facing Alessandra, one of – if not the – strongest Frontier Brains in the Battle Park. Well, that is, if I could understand the directions.
“See this display?” The woman prodded the glowing blue monitor before me, which resembled a large desk with a touch screen.
“Yes?”
“You have an option of multiple Pokémon on it. Once chosen, you cannot change. You will pick three, and Alessandra will pick three, but they will not be on the same list. As such, you will have no idea what Pokémon she will choose.”
“Oh, I get it. And she won’t know what I have to choose either, right?”
“Erm, no.”
I gave the woman a confused look. She sighed lightly once more.
“Alessandra…” She continued her elongated sigh, “…is a brain. That is, she has memorized every listing pair, and every conceivable option. Upon releasing your first Pokémon, she will likely know the list you are using, and all options related to that list.”
“Mmhmm.” My eyes widened a bit at this knowledge. What was I getting myself into?
“I have no idea why Alessandra would like to challenge you…” The secretary looked me up and down, clearly unimpressed. “…and with no recording, or media visuals, nonetheless. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was scared.”
“Scared?” I grinned, with new found confidence growing in my core.
“Trust me trainer…I know better.” And she shut the door, leaving me in darkness, save for the desk-monitor in front of me.
<Choose. A. Pokémon.> A robotic voice hummed in my mind. I scrolled down the unfortunately small list. My options included an Infernape, an Alakazam, a Smeargle, a Ditto, a Salamence, and a…
“What on earth is that?” I said out loud, looking at the strange Pokémon, swirling on my screen with red and blue. I got out my phone, and aimed the camera at the image on the computer.
“Porygon Z.” It said simply. “This Porygon has been enabled to travel to dimensions beyond the intellectual capabilities of man-kind. This type of travel has had odd and unexpected effects, however.”
“The hell?” I looked inquisitively at my phone, and then back to the screen. I flicked carelessly at the monitor, bringing up its stats. It had a nice special attack, and good speed, but I would feel better using Pokémon I was more comfortable with. I flicked back to the Infernape.
“Infernape.” My phone began.
“Shut up, I know what an Infernape is.”
“The Fire Monkey Pokemon.”
“Cancel. Turn off. Shut down.” I commanded, pressing several buttons at once on my phone.
“Infernape uses all of its limbs to attack, utilizing several different-”
I tore the battery out of my phone, causing the voice to crackle and disappear.
“That’s better.” I sighed.
I looked over the Infernape’s moves and stats, pleased to see a familiar ‘Fake Out’ listed in the sets. Overall, it looked like the Infernape played by about the same rules as Static did – dish out as much pain as possible, and don’t get hit.
I could work with that.
I clicked select, and the machine made a pleasant ding, registering that one out of my three choices was made.
“Alakazam isn’t too bad…” I glanced at its stats. “Nice speed, awesome Special Attack… yeah, this should cover Infernape pretty well.”
Lastly, I picked Salamence as my final. Who wouldn’t choose an awesome dragon?
<You have selected your final Pokémon. Would you like to re-select any?>
I thought the receptionist said I couldn’t change?
<Re-select.> I choose out of curiosity.
<TOO BAAAAD!> The robotic voice was exchanged for a deep, cackling baritone as suddenly the room started to shift. The floor jolted upward, and in fright I turned to the door, which had now disappeared. I stood in the center of the room, bewildered, unsure of what was happening.
I’m in an elevator.
The thought crossed my mind like a wave, slowly calming me down. I wish someone had told me! The small room looked nothing like an elevator, and in fact looked rather lavish, with red cushion walls and the expensive looking desk monitor.
Light poured over me, and upon looking up I saw an automated gate open above me. The elevator stopped, pushing only the bottom of the elevator to the new floor. As I rose, I saw Sandy standing at a similar platform, looking expectantly in my direction. I cocked my head, and gave her my signature grin.
“Didn’t expect that.” I admitted.
“Josh!” Sandy exclaimed, unlike herself. She extended her arms; a show of power in the vastness of the arena. “Remind me, how are you still bewildered after seeing what secrets I hold? Bask in the glory of the Battle Factory, and relish this moment as the moment you get beaten…” She let her hair fall, and opened her eyes, revealing bright, hauntingly amber yellow contacts, now fully resembling the Alessandra I remembered. “…by Alessandra, master, and
Frontier Brain!”
I shot her a queer glance, and smirked to myself. “Are you recording this?”
“By regulation, all battles in this hall are recorded.” She spoke professionally. “However, for this battle, I have made a special exception. No cameras will be recording this. Just you and me, Josh…” She spoke menacingly.
“Oh? No cameras, huh? Don’t want risk your loss getting on film, now do we?”
If any part of me thought that statement was correct, I was sorely mistaken. She laughed, then cast her cruel gaze on me once more. “No, no. Recently articles in the tabloids have been accusing me of ‘lack of sportsmanship’ when it comes to battles. They called me callous.” Sandy put on a mock frown. “They claimed I didn’t just beat my opponents, I intentionally made them suffer for their mistakes, drawing out the battles, and forcing them to watch, helpless, as their mistakes caused their ruin.”
“Why would someone lie like that?” I asked inquisitively.
“Lie? Oh, it’s no lie, Josh.” Sandy purred. “I like my prey to suffer before conceding defeat. I enjoy the pain in their eyes as they’re slowly forced to watch me win.”
“You’re evil.” I concluded, smirking.
“Not yet I’m not. The reason those cameras are off-” Sandy pointed left in a vague direction. “- is because no one else will be here to call me cruel, for what I’m about to do to you.”
“Oh? Such hubris…” I countered.
“Hubris is for those whom do not truly possess the prowess I do.” Sandy scoffed. “Back in Kanto, you claimed you thought you were better than me. I cannot allow this train of thought to continue…”
“And what shall you do about this, my dear?” I implored.
“Destroy you, slowly. Crush you without mercy, though in such a way where you still believe you have a chance until the very end. Show you what a true battle is like, and truly persuade you-” She twisted around, snatching a Pokéball off her belt, and smiled wildly with her unnatural, fierce golden eyes. “-that you never had a chance against the great Alessandra!”
“Convince me.” I breathed, a determined grin on my face and a Pokéball in my hand. |
(Here is a
to the song I'm about to reference in the story! I suggest listening to it before, or while reading. Hope you enjoy :3) (Josh POV)
A deep, rich, throbbing bass echoed through the arena, matching the quickened pace of my heart. The low notes reverberated through the air, shaking my very foundation with their harsh but compelling beats.
“If it’s a FIGHT I’m ready to go!” The base pounded thought the arena.
“Go, Infernape!” I commanded, tossing the black and white Ultraball to the middle of the stage. After a quick flash of light the Infernape appeared, already in a fighting stance.
‘I wouldn’t put my money on the other guy, if you know what I already know!’ The bass quickened as Sandy smirked to herself.
“Go, Smeargle!” Sandy exclaimed, tossing the Ultraball to her side of the arena. The Smeargle appeared, balancing carefully on his pained tail. It wore a red bandana around its forehead, along with a tense, focused gaze.
<Infernape, use-> I winced as intense interference wracked the signal. Sandy grinned, and shook her finger.
“Ah, ah, ah…” She smirked. “Not in here. Here, we do things the old fashion way.”
Grrrrr…
“Infernape, use Fake Out!” I quickly ordered.
“Detect!” Sandy commanded.
No!
Infernape raced up just as a brown, transparent aura enveloped Smeargle. Infernape launched a multitude of punches and kicks, but they all seemed a second behind as Smeargle expertly dodged all of the blows.
“Infernape, Close Combat!” I wanted to save that move as a surprise tactic, but it was apparent she wouldn’t be that easy of an opponent.
Smeargle wouldn’t be able to reliably use detect again, and Infernape now has an insane type advantage – Close Combat alone holds three hundred and sixty
base power, and won’t miss. Smeargle can’t survive that, and Sandy will be forced to switch out and thus have the attack land on another Pokémon, or take it, and force her Smeargle to be knocked out.
“Smeargle!” Sandy readied a command, with a haunting spark in her eyes. “Take the blow.”
Infernape raced towards the Smeargle, socking him twice in quick succession with his fists, then sent him flying across the arena with an overpowered kick. I felt the reverberation of the bass happen in sync as the Smeargle crashed into the side of the wall, taking far too much damage to remain conscious.
Haha. Three-two, my favor, Alessandra.
“Smeargle, use Shell Smash, then Spore!”
WHAT!?
‘Don’t CRY like a BITCH when you FEEL THE PAIN!’ The bass rumbled, pumping the fast paced electronic rock.
The Smeargle slowly arose off the floor; his bandanna now turning to ash. With a quick movement of his arms, a shell appeared around him and shattered.
Smeargle looked fatigued beyond belief, and could barely stand…yet he WAS still standing.
H-how could Smeargle have survived that!?My calculations weren’t faulty; that attack should have knocked him out three times over!
“C-close combat again, Infernape!”
“Put him down, Smeargle.”
The Smeargle calmly patiently as my Infernape tore across the stage, with hands enveloped with an orange, fighting energy. With a hastened swipe of his tail, the Smeargle covered my Infernape with green spores, and Infernape crashed before him, asleep.
“No!” I screamed.”R-return!”
WHAT WAS I DOING!?
“G-go, Alakazam!” I yelped.
Okay, all your Pokémon are still at full health, even if she disabled one for now. She still only has a weakened Smeargle at her disposal, you still have this!
“Batton Pass. You’ve done well today.” Sandy purred, returning the Smeargle to his Pokeball. “Go, Porygon Z!”
Excellent. Although Porygon Z is fast and has high Special Attack, Alakazam is faster, and has just as high special attack. One super effective focus blast should be more than enough to end this fight!
“Focus Blast, Alakazam!” I commanded.
“Psyshock, Porygon Z!” Sandy sneered.
‘But it’s the little, petty SHIT that I…CAN’T IGNORE!’ The music blared, deafening me with its obscene volume and intensity.
Hah! Not only will she not hit me, she chose a psychic attack! Alakazam has incredible Special Defense; that attack wouldn’t even faze him!
Alakazam closed his eyes and summoned a bolt of fighting energy, but in an instant he was hit with a wave of purple energy. It washed over him, obliterating his attack, and knocking him to the ground. Alakazam didn’t get back up.
W…what? I-it was slower…and that shouldn’t have knocked it out…Alakazam has one of the highest Special Defense scores of all known Pokémon!
“Are you going to gawk all day trainer, or will this battle end today?” Alessandra taunted, drumming her fingered on the monitor, the base quieting slightly.
O-okay, It’s three to two, her favor. And one of my Pokémon is sleeping…BUT, one of her Pokémon is extremely weak, and my last Pokémon is a dragon! I can still pull a victory from this yet!
“Go, Salamence!” I commanded, as a giant blue and red beast emerged from the reddish glow of the pokeball’s light. Never before had I stood this close to a dragon before. If I thought Sandy’s Charzard was intimidating, this took it to an extreme. From her rough outer coating to the sharp tips of her wings, it was clear she was only meant for one task. Her legs stood poised, proudly displaying the muscular build all draconic beings were known to possess. She roared upon being released, shaking the foundations of the gym, and unnerving me to my core. Never before had I been in command of such a beast, and I felt it’s power with every oversized breathe of air she inhaled.
Try this out for size, ‘Allesandra’!
“Salamence! Use Draco Meteor!” I commanded, striking my best deadly smile.
“Ice beam…” Sandy droned, appearing almost…bored?
A light beam hit the dragon unceremoniously, and Salamence crashed on her side, unconscious.
WHAT!? That was it!? H-how…!?
‘With my FIST in your FACE and your FACE on the floor!’ The base exclaimed, suddenly turning up in intensity.
“Well? Don’t make me wait Josh; you’ll find I’m very impatient…” Sandy smirked, cracking her fingers together.
“Y-you’ve won.” I shook my head in disbelief. Not in her victory, but in the realization I didn’t know WHY she won. I couldn’t reason why her strategies worked, or why my calculations in this arena were somehow fundamentally flawed. This had never happened before – not my loss of course, but an error in my formulas. Were their unknown variables I hadn’t…or couldn’t consider?
“Not yet…” She purred, playing with an ultraball. “You still have one Pokémon left.”
“All three of my Pokémon are unconscious.”
“Yes, but one is still capable of fighting.”
“…you want me to send out my sleeping Infernape? It’s ASLEEP! It can’t withstand-”
“-Doesn’t matter.” Sandy interrupted. “The battle isn’t over until all Pokémon on one side cannot battle.”
I’ve already lost. Why was she doing this?
‘Bet you got the message now…’
“Go…Infernape?” With no other option, I tossed Infernape’s Pokéball onto the field. Infernape appeared laying down, in a deep, almost comma like rest. I
waited for Sandy to make a move – order Porygon Z to obliterate it with a Hyper Beam, or that oh-so-powerful Psyshock I had seen earlier. Surely a psychic move of that magnitude would knock out the fighting type Infernape.
But…Sandy just stood there, not making a sound. I waited for the end, but after a moment passed and nothing had happened, I shot her a confused look. She shrugged and smiled in return.
‘’Cause I was never going…’
…She’s TOYING with me…!
“Infernape, WAKE UP!” I shouted, loathe to give Sandy the satisfaction of watching me struggle, but also not wanting to stand at her mercy. The Infernape
didn’t move.
“INFERNAPE. WAKE UP and use Close Combat!” I ordered. The Infernape stirred, but still was not awoken. I heard sandy snicker, causing me to blush. This was the last resort of any trainer, of course. It was humiliating and it hurt my pride, but I reasoned it was better than nothing.
“INFERNAAAAPE!” I cried, mustering the loudest yell I could to overpower the drone of the bass. The Infernape’s eyes shot open, and they darted around the room in recognition.
“Oh hey, look, you did it.” Sandy smiled condescendingly.
“Infernape! Use Close Combat, NOW!” I commanded with the same forceful tone as before. I waited for Sandy to counter my move, but she remained strangely silent.
What is she doing!?
“Nape-feeeern!” The Infernape cried as he smashed his limbs mercilessly against the Porygon. The Porygon squeaked out a quick series of unintelligible sounds before collapsing to the ground.
“Oh nooo…” Sandy rolled her eyes, returning the fainted Porygon to her Pokeball, then tossing another one without thought. The Smeargle from before
appeared, and it looked even more exhausted then before.
“Close Combat again, Infernape!”
The Smeargle prepared a Detect, before shooting a confused look at Sandy. Sandy simply shook her head, and the Smeargle sighed sadly and winced.
What is she doing!? Why isn’t she using Detect or spore, like she did before!?
Predictably, Infernape’s fists slammed against the Smeargle, knocking him unconscious. Infernape stood over his defeated opponent, and shot a challenging gaze at Sandy.
“Send out your last Pokémon.” I spoke, with an air of false confidence.
“How are you feeling?” She sneered, the music mysteriously turning itself down.
“What?”
“Think you got this?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s one to one. Your Pokémon is at full health.”
“And?”
“Wouldn’t you say it was anyone’s game?”
What…what are you doing, Sandy?
“I…I don’t know. I don’t understand your methods.” I admitted.
“Few do.” She smirked, one final time. “Go, Ditto!”
I WON! Ditto’s need one turn to transform, and instead of transforming into a new Infernape, that Ditto will transform into MY Infernape, with all of his stat
drops from using Close Combat! It’s defense will be two stages lowered – meaning at 50%! While it transforms, my Infernape can knock it out with one final
Close Combat. Even if she’s faster, she still needs a turn to transform, which gives me the opening I need!
The bass cranked suddenly came back, filling the arena with its heavy ear bursting rock.
‘’Cause one of us is goin’…’
“Infernape!” I directed, smiling confidently for once during this match.
“Ditto!” Sandy ordered, with practiced poise and precession.
“Use Close Combat!” We echoed simultaneously.
“ONE OF US IS GOIN’ DOWWWWN!”
W-what’s she doing!? Ditto has no limbs; it hasn’t transformed yet!
“Ferna!” Infernape screeched, sprinting towards the half-formed glob.
“Ditaaah!” In one swift motion, the Ditto launched itself upwards, becoming a mirror match of my Infernape, and socking my Infernape with a punch straight to the jaw. Unrelenting, the now fully-formed Infernape followed through ruthlessly with a series of kicks and punches, until finally knocking my Infernape to the ground.
NO!
“F…fuh..” My Infernape collapsed, eyes closed in admission of defeat.
No…
I looked up to see Sandy smirking in amusement. She began turning some dials on her monitor. The bass suddenly died down, and I realized she was the one controlling the disjointed, loud music. Did she really beat me while mixing and controlling those songs? Did she even try? I thought I was good, but compared to her…
“I…I don’t understand…” I admitted solemnly in defeat.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
Those were the last words I expected to hear from Alesandra. I knew she liked this – I knew she liked confusing and destroying her opponents. I knew she
liked leaving me confused, and taunting me; giving me hope until the last second, then yanking it away, and watching me crumble under her watchful eye.
Why was she being nice?
“I’ve had years of experience, Josh.” She stepped down from the podium, and walked towards me. “I was born for this. I’ve been doing this all my life – I even was homeschooled just so I would have more time to battle. Of course the first time we battle I’ll use some tricks you might not know.”
I nodded, still troubled and confused. I had wanted to do this all my life, yet she ran circles around me. I had no trouble admitting defeat to a clearly superior opponent, but it bugged me I couldn’t learn from my defeat.
Sandy caught the look in my eye. “Hey now, no being a sore loser!”
“What? I’m no sore loser!” I tried to grin, but faltered. “I just…you’re totally out of my league-”
“I am pretty hot…” She interrupted, tossing her hair to the side. “But hey, you’re not too bad yourself!”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” I deadpanned.
“I know.” She smiled an honest, caring smile. “And I know your dream. I know you’re not a sore loser, I know you’re upset because you don’t understand my methods.”
“Yeah!” I grinned, satisfied she understood my confusion. “Could you perhaps teach-”
“Of course.” She interrupted. “There’s a lot of stuff I did, so we’ll have to start from the beginning.” She went to the ditto, and placed her hand outstretched near its head. An odd, wet sounding gurgle escaped the Ditto, and a blue bandanna similar to the one the Smeargle was wearing slid out of the Ditto’s core. Sandy pulled it free, wincing momentarily at the bandanna’s less than stellar appearance.
“Josh, do you know what this is?”
“…a…bandanna?” I answered questioningly, knowing I was probably wrong. Sandy shook her head and smiled.
“We have some work to do…” She laughed, grabbing me by the waist, and wiping her Ditto-juice covered bandanna on my shirt.
---
(Nova POV)
<We did it!>
<We’re the best!>
<Finding stuff experts!>
<Team DarkFire!>
<Woohoo!>
Myst and I laughed, collapsing in front of the Pokémon center in exhaustion. It took us most of the day, but we finally found it. The large building was quite the site, and it was a symbol of our heroic victory, and a trophy of our successful quest.
<Hah…> Myst panted in a mixture of laughter and fatigue. <…so…now what?>
<I don’t know.> I admitted, giggling slightly in acknowledgement that I didn’t plan on us actually succeeding. <Now that I’ve got my fish, I don’t know what to do with it!>
<What?> Myst shook her head in confusion.
<Once,> I smiled. <When I was younger, I was playing at a lake one time. It was really pretty, but at the time, I guess I wasn’t really paying much attention. I was splashing in the water, and for some reason, I wanted to catch a fish. It took hours, but eventually I got one. It stared flopping all around, and it was pretty scary, so I dropped it back in the lake.>
Myst grinned in amusement. <Why did you try catching the fish in the first place?>
<I don’t know!> I giggled. <It was just one of those things, you know? Like a challenge, to see if I could, I guess. But when I had it->
<You didn’t know what to do with it.> Myst finished, smiling in comprehension.
<Yeah.>
We sat in silence for a moment outside of the large building. Now that we were here, the same question was on our minds, but neither of us had an answer.
Now what?
<I, um,> I volunteered myself the first to break the silence. <I know a bit about Pokémon centers. I could show you around if you wanted. You’ve never been in one, right?>
<Well, no, not really.> Myst admitted.
<Okay! I can show you around then!>
<Www…> Myst made an odd sound, then fell silent.
<What?>
<W…well…> Myst began, <I…I don’t know. I don’t…like the idea of being inside a human building…I guess. The restaurant wasn’t too bad, but here, without my-, err, our trainer…> She trailed off.
<OH! I understand! You’re closet-phobic!>
<What?>
<Closet-phobic! You’re afraid of small spaces!>
<N-no I’m not. I’ve hidden in spaces MUCH smaller then that-> Myst pointed to the rather large pokecenter. <-and haven’t been afraid. In fact, I’m not afraid of anything, especially closets.> Myst stated proudly.
<Then why don’t you want to go in?> I asked, taking a page from Static’s book when he used to taunt me about my fears.
Myst fell silent.
<Come on! If you don’t like it, we can leave. Okay?>
<Promise?> Myst rubbed her front paws together apprehensively.
<Promise. Let’s go! Team FireDark!>
<That’s DarkFire to you, recruit.> Myst bumped me playfully in the side. <And don’t you forget it!>
---
Huge. Mind bendingly large, with shiny crystal things on the ceiling precariously hung on a thin piece of wire. From the inside, the Pokémon center was an enormous space, filled with flawless white marble and strong looking, perfectly sculpted columns. I promised Myst I would show her around, but to be honest, I probably felt more out of place then she did.
<Wow.> Myst mumbled, looking around in awe.
<May I help you?> Another voice entered our consciousness. We both jolted at the sudden intrusion, then adjusted our Pokespeaks back to the public speak option. Looking up, we noticed the man at the counter was speaking to us.
<W-what?> I stuttered, still not fully recovered from his sudden presence.
<Do you need healing? Are you looking for rooms?> The man enquired calmly.
<N-not yet, our trainer is still battling at places. Plus we, um, we don’t have money…>
<The hotel cost in included in the cost of the ticket. Assuming your trainer got here, he or she has a ticket, yes?>
<Yeah, he has a ticket!> I remembered.
<I figured.> The man smiled warmly. <If you can give me your names, I’ll put them in the computer. When your trainer comes by, he’ll see he already has a room reserved, and he’ll see your names inside. Is that okay?>
<Mmhmm!> I nodded enthusiastically. <Thank you so much!>
<Not at all; happy to be of service.> The man bowed politely. <Now, what are your names?>
<Nova!> I recalled, happy at my name. I waited a moment for Myst to say hers, but she remained strangely silent. I turned to her, and she had her head placed on the floor, and looked very…unnerved. <…a-and this is Myst!> I said after a moment of hesitation.
<Nova and Myst. Excellent, you are in our database. Here is your key,> The man handed me a small card that I recognized as the strange hotel keys. <And enjoy your stay.>
<Will do mister, thanks so much!> I chimed, and walked off with Myst. Our room was 114, which, from following the doors, I knew was close by. I turned to Myst again, who was walking behind me with her tail between her legs.
<Are you okay?> I asked, concerned.
<Ironic that our places would be altered so quickly.> She laughed hollowly.
<What’s wrong?>
<C-can we get away from…everyone, first?>
<Sure. This is our room. Only we can get in, plus people we let in, of course.>
I put the card in the slot in the door, and it opened magically like before.
I wonder if humans are just Pokemon, and their power is technology.
We entered the room, and it was just as nice as the entrance. There was a flawless marble bathroom, a giant television, two dark purple plush beds, and a giant window that was currently covered by two large, lavender curtains.
I shut the door, and looked at Myst. Her eyes were full of unease, and she shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.
<So, um, are you closet-phobic?> I prodded.
<No, it’s not about the closet!> She snapped, then instantly looked apologetic. <Sorry, I didn’t mean->
<-Don’t worry about it.> I waved it off, and walked near one of the beds, pleased to see it had a small stepladder leading up to it for smaller Pokémon.
<Well, I mean, I know you’re sensitive; I shouldn’t have yelled.>
<I’m used to it. It’s okay.> I shrugged. I realized I probably should have worded that better when I saw Myst cringe. <Really, it’s fine!> I insisted when I saw her squirm.
<Regardless, I apologize.> She fumbled. <Um, anyway, c-can you show me around the room?>
<Better! Get up here.> I offered my hand, and helped pull her on top of the mattress. <Have you ever watched T.V. before?>
<No?> She questioned.
<It’s awesome! Sometimes if I was good, Matilda would let me watch it.> I fumbled to my side, trying to reach the remote on the bedside table. After a moment or two I caught it with my paw, and pressed its power button.
<What does it do?> She turned to the television, interested in its sudden change and the increased volume in the room.
<It tells stories!> I exclaimed. <Anything you want. I can’t read well, but I can a little bit from watching so much.>
<You can read?> Myst stared at me, mildly impressed.
<Mmhmm!> I nodded happily.
<Cool. Go on.>
<Uh, yeah, anyway, it can play any story you want. It can be silly, serious, scary, fun, happy, romantic, cartoony…>
<How intriguing…> Myst thought quietly.
<Is there anything you want to watch? Or do you want to talk about why you were…>
<Were…> She stared, daring me to finish my thought.
I gulped. <…troubled….earlier.>
<I…I don’t know. Perhaps it is due to all of this unfamiliarity.> She began. <People everywhere, Pokémon everywhere, and they can all see me. I’m use to illusions to cover my tracks, but here where it’s okay to be seen I just feel lost. I feel open. I don’t…I don’t like it.> Myst shuddered and wrapped a paw around me. I was surprised, but I returned the embrace nonetheless. She sighted softly, and nuzzled me in my chest with the tip of her nose.
<Anyway, entertain me with this device! You said any story, right?> She chimed, suddenly brighter.
<Well, maybe not everything, but like, every->
<I would like something funny and amorous.>
<Um, okay!> I turned to the television. <R…omantic…> I typed slowly on the remotes rather clunky interface. <…C…omedy…>
A list appeared of different movies, and I selected one at random which looked amusing.
<Oh.> Myst thought suddenly. <They’re of humans?>
<Most are.> I shrugged. <I should have told you. Sorry, I guess I’m just use to it.>
<It’s fine.>. Myst snuggled closer to me. This wasn’t like her. I expected her to break off the embrace instantly as soon as we hugged, saying something like ‘Don’t tell Static’ or ‘This never happened’ or something, but she…hadn’t. I didn’t mind the closeness, but it did strike me as odd that she was being so…
Trusting?
I turned on Pokespeak subtitles, and laid back with Myst. She put her paws around me like before, and curled her head into my chest. It was a pleasant sensation – I wasn’t use to the feeling of warmth she gave off while we snuggled. After a few moments I gave in, and rested my head on her as well. It felt like a warm pillow, filled with smooth, silky fur. I felt her breath against my chest, tickling my orange tinted coat with each exhale.
I looked at the clock on the bed stand. It was a bit past four, which would give us a few more hours before we needed to meet with Josh again. I smiled content. This was exactly where I wanted to be – watching television with a friend, without scary things. A quiet, enjoyable evening.
---
(Myst POV)
Bored, boring, bored, extremely, unyieldingly, irreversibly-
“Hey Myst, how are you liking the movie?”
“It’s great!”
“Cool.” Nova smiled, and snuggled back against me. I sighed soundlessly, with seething irritation.
‘I’m a thief!’ I thought, frustrated. ‘I take what I desire!’
I looked back at Nova as he giggled at the people acting in the moving picture. I looked over him, making sure to cast a subtle illusion over my eyes, so Nova didn’t catch my wandering gaze. He was smooth for a fire-breather – most were jagged and rough, but he was curved and soft against my quiet stare. He had fur, unlike his kin who normally were more reptilian.
He wasn’t brave. He wasn’t particularly strong, or courageous. Why did I feel this way about him?
‘It doesn’t matter.’ I reasoned to myself. ‘Any object worth wanting is worth having, if you have the skills at your disposal to obtain it…’
I prodded his chest with my snout, to get his attention.
“Mmmm?” He paused the movie, and turned his attention to me. “What’s up?”
“Oh sorry, I just, um, thought I needed to sneeze.” I lied, my mind racing.
“Okay.” He flipped the movie back on.
I CHOKED. I never choke! What is wrong with me!?Augh, now if I poke him again I’ll look like a fool!
Nova shifted slightly, and leaned further into one of the pillows, sighing contently. I mirrored his move, but made a fatal error in misjudging the distance, and fell comfortably beside him…
…on my back.
Damn! Damn, damn, damn!
“Are you okay like that?” Nova asked adorably.
“Yeah, it’s comfortable.” I can’t move! “Plus I can see the screen better.” This is humiliating!
“Okay.” Nova hummed happily, directing his attention back to the screen. I ground my teeth, bent on, for once, overcoming my disability through sheer willpower.
Turn, damnit! This isn’t that HARD, you can make your illusions do it! You know how it would work, just shift your body…!
After lying prone for minutes with no results, I begrudgingly accepted my fate as a glorified paperweight. I never knew why I had such trouble with this; even from birth I needed help to roll over. Perhaps it was the same mutation that affected my eyes, or perhaps an outside influence severed a crucial muscle, but whatever the reason, I loathed it with every fiber of my being.
I suppose there are worse places to be helpless, though…
I looked over at Nova, who was clearly enjoying himself. Every few moments he would laugh, filling the air with his innocent, perfect chime. Afterwards, he would turn to me, (TURN! Auugh how I envied him!) and look at me with those perfect blue spheres that reminded me of the ocean he feared so much. He would ask if I understood the reason for his mirth; the laughter that has so previously filled the room. Of course I would say yes, even though I didn’t. It was likely I wouldn’t have understood even if I was paying attention, and not wondering why I was suddenly more cowardly then him when the prospect came to stealing what I desired most in this flourished, lavender room.
I wasn’t fearful. Humans in large quantities unnerved me, but not to the extent I described to Nova earlier. I wanted him to empathize with me; to see me as closer to him than the others, which was the reason behind my façade. But this…this wasn’t fake.
Why is this so difficult!?
More than anything, I felt hot. The room wasn’t stuffy, but with the lazy sunlight pouring through the window, and Nova’s warm fur brushing against mine, I felt my eyelids threaten to drop. The moving picture Nova cared for so much was doing little to keep me awake…
I will not fall asleep…it would not only be rude to Nova, it would ruin the chance I have now!
I couldn’t move anything but my limbs. If given enough time, I may have been able to use the momentum from rocking my legs back and forth to turn over, but Nova would have laughed at me. Instead, I laid back, immobile.
My inaction wasn’t due to my disability…I would like to believe it was, but I knew better. If it was, I wouldn’t have been able to tell Nova how I felt. I wouldn’t have been able to grab his muzzle and lure him into that first intoxicating, slow kiss. I wouldn’t have been able to force kiss after kiss on the muddled but intrigued Charmander, bending him to my voracious, ravenous hunger for his sweet, confused embrace…
…all those things I could do, but none of those things I did. Instead, sleep claimed me for one of its own, and I fell into a troubled, annoyed slumber... |
(Static POV)
What an awesome day!
The sun was shining, Skarr was gone, and I was ready to have some fun. If I could find any, that is…
Why does everything have to be so big?
I wandered aimlessly around trying to find any of the attractions Josh was telling us all about earlier. He hinted that there were several Pokémon-only activities, but I couldn’t find a single one. I was annoyed, but something else too. I wished I was with Josh. Even boring stuff he would make entertaining. I
kicked a rock. Nearby, a Meowth walked out of a nearby alleyway.
Wait. I should try asking other Pokémon where the fun stuff is!
Excited by my new idea, I dashed over to the Meowith. The Meowth looked me over with a cool, uninterested gaze.
“Hey, um, excuse me!” I waved to get his attention, and received only a bored blink in reply. “Um, yeah. I was wondering if you knew where the fun stuff was!”
“Fun?” He questioned. For a second, his eyes green eyes sparkled with interest. “That depends on your definition of fun.”
“What else!? Battling!”
Now he was interested. His eyes shone with interest, and his tail swung back and forth. “I know a place. Any humans with you?”
“No?”
The Meowith quickly shot a glance to the left and right, then nodded satisfied. “Yeah, I’ll show you a battle you’ll never forget. Follow me!”
He dashed back into the alleyway. I bounded after him, until we reached the end. He smirked.
“Where do we go now?” I asked.
“Down.” The Meowith pointed at a Manhole cover in the ground. “I know you won’t tell anyone, but there aren’t actually sewers here. Everything just get
flushed into the ocean.”
“Then what’s the sewer-hole thing for, then?”
“There’s a beautiful cave next to the cliff that overlooks the ocean. It’s perfect for sightseeing… and for the battles I know you’re after.”
“Awesome!” I grinned.
Meowth made an ‘after you’ motion with his paws, and I happily climbed down the rather narrow passageway. The ladder went down quite a while before ending up in a poorly lit room. I could make out a few other Pokémon there, along with a small exit. Judging on the light pouring in from the exit, I assumed that was close to the cliff side.
I earned a few nods from the other Pokémon before stepping out into the exit, and thus a larger room. It was built like an arena. The circular stage had a large, seven foot wall around the stage, and above that were rows and rows of chairs. All sorts of Pokémon sat in them, from Koffings to Purrloins. I watched in happy awe at the sheer size of the field. What kind of battles did they have here?
“Snivel? Is that you?”
Every happy emotion I was experiencing was instantly drained away. The fur on the back of my neck crawled on end, and heavy sweat began to coat my forehead. My breath quickened. No one knew me by that name. That was my old name – back when I was still wild, back before Josh – back when I was still a member of the wild Pikachu.
I didn’t dare turn around. There was only one person that sounded like that. That hardened, dead, scratchy voice. It was different now, but it was unmistakable. No one else sounded like that.
I forced myself to turn, dreading it with every cell in my body. I saw him. He was different now – a Raichu. He looked terrible. Dark circles surrounded his eyes, casting a sickly shadow on his already dark forest green eyes. He looked underfed, yet muscular. His fur was grayer then it should have been – he was only a few years older than me – and he had several patches where he simply didn’t have fur. Some of it looked burnt off, and others looked like it had been torn. One of his ears was only half there, and was poorly stitched to prevent further damage. The normal swirls around his wrists were pointed and jagged, and collections of scars adorned his intimidating frame.
“I never thought I would see you again. How’s it going Sniv?” The Raichu approached me, carelessly ignoring my obvious fear.
“N-not bad. H-how about you, Rough?” I gulped.
“It’s OverDose now.” OverDose spat. I cringed as the Raichu towered over me, paw in fist.
“I, um, I see...” I stumbled.
“Small world. Once clan members, then we were torn. Thrown across the world by humans for a little prank. They would have killed us if not for the
Treaty.”
“Treaty?” I asked, terrified yet curious.
“You shall not harm non-hostile Pokemon.” Overdose ground his teeth. “Now that we weren’t a threat, they couldn’t touch us. Technically. They could
move us, however. And that they did. Stranded me on this shitty piece of ROCK.” Overdose stomped his foot into the ground, enlisting a rumble from the earth.
“I’m sorry for that…” I mumbled, trying to squeeze away.
“That’s not the worst part, though. Do you know what was?” I shook my head, and OverDose brought his face inches from mine, until I felt the heat of his breath on my face. It was rancid. “They didn’t know of our hiding spot. The cops that found us. Only we did. The humans wouldn’t have found us without help.”
“H-how do you-”
“Only one of us left the group, Snivel.” His breath burned against my eyes.
“That’s not true-”
“Everyone else came back but you.”
“I didn’t-”
“You’re a BAD LIAR, SNIVEL!” A fist caught me in my gut, and sent me to the ground. In a second I was back up, electricity sparking from my cheeks.
“YOU WANT TO GO!?” I yelled, as intimidating as I possibly could. “You think I’m as helpless as I was before!? You think you showed strength, defeating a
defenseless low level like me!? I’d like to see you try now!”
“Not like this.” OverDose commanded. He pointed vaguely at the stage, and two purple Pokémon with gems for eyes darted before me. The first one raced at me with a purple claw oozing with a black poison. I sidestepped him and send a stream of electricity at the second. His gemstone eyes gleamed a second before he was hit, and instantly he appeared before me, and bashed my head with the side of his claw.
I reeled, then dodged another blow from the first strange Pokémon. It struck again, and I narrowly avoided its acid cloaked claws as I felt the wind of the
attack brush against my fur. I retaliated with a strike of my own, as the orange fighting energy covered my fist and struck straight inside the purple Pokémon.
“What!?” I screeched, and pulled my paw free from inside the mysterious Pokémon. Its gems gleamed suddenly as it cackled. Something hit me from behind,
and everything went dark…
---
“…not responding…”
“n….don….will….”
“It….he’s….”
“It’ll work. It always does.”
Suddenly, I was conscious. Invigorated. I didn’t know where I was until I quickly looked around, and I realized I was once again in the arena…except this time in the middle. One of the weird purple Pokémon was at my sides, and he was holding a now-empty reddish syringe. I struck at him instinctively, but he vanished into mist as soon as my fist got to him
“Don’t be mad at them. It’s you and me who have a score to settle, Snivel.”
“Don’t call me that!” I growled fiercely.
Where did that come from?
I was terrified of OverDose. He was the one that broke the group, that beat me up at the orchard, and that caused a massive power outage in the human city. Why…why did I suddenly feel angry instead of scared?
“Fight me then, alone, you coward!” I hissed, suddenly furious.
“I intend to, but this will not be a normal fight. History lesson, Sniv.” OverDose grinned an evil smirk as he extended his arm to the left. “Pokémon didn’t use to faint before. Hundreds of years ago, Pokémon would fight to the death with their powers. Only after the Legendary Ones put limits on our abilities did we faint instead of die. This allowed us to learn from our mistakes, and get stronger and wiser.”
“Who cares!?” I growled.
One of the gem-eyed Pokémon carrying a full syringe spawned next to Overdose, and injected him with a the strange red fluid.
“Because humans are clever…” Overdose twitched as the fluid was injected into his veins. He sighed suddenly, and shook his head. “T-they found a way of…bypassing…the restrictions placed on us. Though a virus, and a mixture of other, fun chemicals.” OverDose’s pupils widened as he smirked.
I panted suddenly, and was overcome with heat. Sweat soaked my coat, and I looked at the small hole in my arm again. “W-what did you put into me!?”
“Just something to ensure you won’t faint again. I want to make sure you’re awake for this…” Overdose flicked his wrist, and it cracked horribly. I was filled with anger, but my fear was slowly overpowering it, especially at the realization the anger wasn’t my own.
What did they put in me!?
“I’m looking forward to smearing you all over the walls, Snivel.” Overdose shuddered as the strange purple Pokémon injected him a second, then third time. “I can’t wait to show you, in explicit detail, what happens to garbage like you. I’ll kill you, and smear your blood in the sands of the arena, for all to see and smell! Garbage little BITCH!”
He charged.
---
By the time I raised my hands in defense, it was already too late, I left his paw smash into my jaw, sending me reeling on the floor. I bounded up instantly, electricity crackling around me.
“Cha!” I shouted, and raced back at him, with both my arms igniting with fighting energy. He smirked as I bounded towards him, and blocked my first punch with his muscular arm. In a fraction of a second, I punched him in his gut and side, both fists acting like pistons, and firing off at blinding speeds. I felt my arms move faster than they ever had before, and I felt a moment of clarity as I was attacking.
I’m being reckless! I’ve never used Brick Break with both paws, especially this close at range! This…this isn’t right. This isn’t even the same attack. I’m
using Close Combat! B-but I thought Josh said I couldn’t learn-
An oversized paw smashed into my muzzle, and I flew across the stage before skidding to a halt. My vision blurred, but I didn’t feel weakened by the attack
like I usually did.
Did…did that even do damage?
I tested my jaw, and found it…hurt. Attacks weren’t supposed to hurt. They just did damage, and made me faint. Why…why was I starting to hurt?
“Rai!” Overdose shouted, jumping into the air. His paw shone with fighting energy, and erupted into what looked like a comet. I dashed to the side, narrowly avoiding Overdose’s attack. I looked back to see a crater where I was standing.
What WAS that!?
“RAI!” Overdose feigned a punch which I dodged, then bounced up and kicked me with both legs. I bounced off the gritty floor before flipping myself back to standing. I panted, my cheeks crackling with unused electricity.
“I’m going to enjoy this…” Overdose growled, walking menacingly towards me.
“Chaaa!” I screeched. Suddenly the lights went dim as the strongest wave of electricity I had ever summoned came crashing down on Overdose. I had never seen a bolt of electricity this large before in my life, not even in natural thunderstorms. It crashed against Overdose, and all the sand in the arena blasted back from the resulting sonic blast.
Overdose grinned, still in the epicenter of the strike. He looked completely unscathed.
“WHAT!?” I screamed out loud.
“You have much to learn, Static. Shame you never will.” Overdose grinned, and summoned the same lightning bolt I did, but this time it was even larger. It smashed against my chest, singeing my fur and sending me soaring across the arena, and into the surrounding concrete wall.
It took me a second, but I finally managed to begin breathing again. I crawled out of the wall, and then fell to the floor.
…why…why am I still conscious? I should have fainted two attacks ago…
I coughed, some red substance making its way to the sandy floor below. Across the stage, Overdose laughed.
“Well, get up then. I’m not done with you yet, you piece of shit.” Overdose ordered. The crowd cheered at Overdose’s crudeness, and egged him on to finish me off. I slowly rose to my feet, wiping what I realized was blood off of my muzzle.
As he ran towards me, I faked a head-butt before racing towards the wall, and bouncing off. My fist glowed orange once more, and I aimed it at Overdose’s face.
Too slow. Overdose caught my fist and pulled me out of the air. Using me like a mace, he swirled me around before smashing me into the ground.
Auughh…
I steadied myself with a paw just as a yellow blur smashed against my side. My core exploded in pain as I was sent reeling across the stage, before skidding to a halt in the unforgiving sands.
The crowd roared in approval. I whimpered slightly, clutching my chest in agony. Whatever he just did hurt much worse than anything before, and judging by the crowds response, it was likely their favorite move. I looked up to see Overdose walking towards me cockily, swirling his tail around like a whip. I recognized the yellow blur now – it was the thunderbolt at the end of his tail.
“Now don’t just lay there, Sniv. At least look like you’re putting up a fight.” Overdose grinned, walking ever closer to me.
Why does this hurt…? Battling…battling shouldn’t hurt…
He picked me up, and smashed his fist into my gut before throwing me back to the floor.
“Come on, you piece of garbage!” Overdose spat. I gagged on the floor, and steadied myself with a paw, trying to see if I could still put weight on any of my limbs. “There you go. See? Easy.”
He lifted me up the rest of the way, and then grabbed me by the fur on my chest. I looked at him in the eyes…at this point, it felt like one of the only things I could do.
“I’m going to enjoy this, Snivel.” Overdose grinned, his other paw glowing with orange energy.
“…What happened to you, Rough?” I whispered, barely able to talk. My question caught him off guard, and he took a step back.
“What?”
“What happened to you?” I repeated, struggling not to choke on my bile. “Was life really so bad here that it did this to you? W…was it your trainer?”
Overdose looked at me with an unreadable expression. “My trainer has nothing to do with this. He feeds me and allows me to fight. What more can you expect from a human?”
“You know there’s more than just that…you know that, Rough, as much as I do.”
“You know? You think you know!? You want to act like you know, you little garbage ass BITCH!?”
Overdose threw me aside, then caught me with a whip of his tail. He hit me in the same side, and I felt the all too familiar pain of ten-thousand volts coursing through my being in the same second. I bounced across the merciless floor immobile, as Overdose screamed at me once more.
I could barely move. My paws only shook when I tried to stand again, and I couldn’t lift my head. I could hear Overdose walking closer to me, shouting something about ‘what I thought I knew’. All I knew was pain. I felt the fur on the back of my neck being grabbed, and Overdose lifted my face off the ground, then grinded it back into the sand.
“YOU WANT TO ACT LIKE YOU KNOW, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!?”
Overdose lifted my head once more, and smashed it into the ground. Still grabbing me, he drug my face across the sandy floor. I would have screamed if I could – it felt like fire as the sands tore across my skin. Blood seeped out of the wounds that the sand created, and the resulting sand got mixed in with the blood on my face.
“I’m going to BREAK YOU.”
He smashed my face against the ground, and I heard my nose crack against the floor. My nose bent at an unnatural angle, and this time I was able to scream.
“And then…when I’m through with you…”
He tossed me aside, and I fell limp to the floor.
“Then you’ll know what it’s like…”
He jumped into the air.
“TO BE ME!”
I felt his hind legs crunch into my back, as the earth around me exploded into fragments. Rocks flew to the sides, and everything went black as I screamed in agony.
---
(Josh POV)
<Skarr, I can’t believe you.>
Skarr preened himself in embarrassment, as we all stood in a circle outside the Pokemon Center. All of us were here except for Static and Myst, though Nova explained Myst was sleeping inside our room. It was nine pm, and Skarr just admitted to leaving Static to his own devices as he took a nap on a roof.
<I trusted you to look after him!> I scolded Skarr. Skarr refused to match my gaze, and stared at the floor guiltily. <That was the deal. You guys could all go out if you kept an eye on each other! Augh…> I put a hand to my forehead. <I knew this was a bad idea…>
“Josh.” Sandy put a calm, reassuring hand on my shoulder. “He’ll be fine. He’s probably just messing around and lost track of time. We’ll find him, relax.”
“I know we’ll find him Sandy, but when? Hours, days? What if he’s hurt, or doesn’t know how to get back?”
“Well, that’s why we’ll start looking now.” Sandy cleared her throat, then reverted to her Pokespeak. <Okay, listen up. Skarr! Remember this area. You’re going to do a fly-by of the park to look for Static. Wigglytuff! You go with Nova, and patrol to the south. Don’t leave each other’s side! Josh, you take the east part of the park, and I’ll take the west. If none of us find him, then one of us will go to the north, while the others go to the areas we’ve already explored. If he comes back to the room->
<I left Myst a note to tell Static to stay there if he comes back.> Nova nodded.
<Good.> Sandy commended. <Alright, everyone knows what they’re going to do. Josh, are you okay?>
<…Yeah.> I lied, nodding sharply. <Unless you are WITH STATIC, everyone be back here at ten pm, no exceptions. Let’s go.>
---
(Nova POV)
<…>
<What?>
<…This is stupid.>
<What!? Looking for Static?> Wigglytuff yelped, glaring at me. She grew twice in size, and placed her tiny paws at her hips in fury.
<No. No! That wasn’t what I meant!> I gulped, trying to calm her down. She let out her breath, and resumed her normal, but still larger-than-average size.
<Oh. What are you talking about then?> She inquired.
<The way we’re looking for him is stupid. You LIVE at this park. You’ve been here all your life, with Sandy, right?>
<Yeah? So?>
<Then you know this place pretty well, right?> I reasoned.
<Well...yeah.> Wigglytuff nodded.
<Then you should be exploring by yourself. You don’t need someone to walk with you; you’re not going to get lost here.>
<…You’re right.> She squinted, confused. <…Wait, no one is looking to the north. Why didn’t they send one of us this way, and one of us to the north?>
<They’re worried about me.> I rolled my eyes. <They think I need someone to look after me, so they sent you.>
<Well, you are kind of a cry baby.> Wigglytuff shrugged.
<Thanks…do you want to find Static or not?>
<Of course I do!>
<Okay, then listen here. You go to the north and look for him. I’ll keep going this way. We’ll meet back at ten, and this way we’ll cover the whole park.>
<Are you sure that’s a good idea?>
<No.> I admitted.
Wigglytuff looked me over eyeing me cautiously. She then shrugged, and hugged me quickly. <Fine. Stay safe!> She yelled behind her shoulder as she ran to the north.
“I’ll try…” I muttered. Luckily, this time I made a mental note of the Pokecenter, so I wouldn’t get lost as easily.
I hope…
---
I shivered as a small chill grew in the air. The breeze blew past my coat, ruffling my bright orange fur. Behind me, my fire crackled dimly in the darkened
streets.
“S-Static?” I tried to call out, but it was scarcely more than a whisper. The shadows on the buildings danced in synchrony to my movements, only summoned on the walls due to my tiny flame.
“S-Staatic?” I hated how whiny my voice sounded.
Man up! What would Josh say if he saw you cowering like this!? I mean, well actually he would probably say something comforting, like “It’s okay to be afraid, the important thing is facing your fear”, but that’s not important right now! Or is it? Augh…where am I?
I looked up, trying to get my bearings. I remembered the Pokecenter was to my…riiight? I think?
Crap.
Suddenly, the ground shook beneath my feet. I fell backwards, and scrambled upwards. Just as quickly, the tremor stopped. None of the buildings around me
looked damaged, and there was no one around me to confirm what I just felt.
“H-hello? Anyone?”
I heard the slight ringing sound to my left. I turned, and saw a pitch black alleyway.
Nope.
I heard the ringing again.
Nope. Nuh-ah. There’s no way…
I shook, hard. That ringing was the only sound I had heard since leaving Wigglytuff, and as of now, was my only lead. I took a shaky breath.
Bravery. Courage. Do that thing you did at the grass gym.
I tensed up, but nothing happened. The ringing didn’t happen again.
Oh my god that’s so scary. There could be…ANYTHING…in that alley.
A thousand thoughts crossed my mind, from tentacle monsters, to flesh eating parasites, to zombies, or aliens, or anything that ever scared me. I whimpered quietly to myself.
I looked down, and noticed I was clutching my tail in fright.
Josh wouldn’t have this problem. Wiggly, Skarr, Myst, Sandy, OR Static wouldn’t have this problem. Why does it have to be me?
The ringing sound happened again, much more distinctly. I shied away from the alley.
Maybe…maybe I could just go back, and tell them what I’ve heard…
I took another step back. And another. I turned to go back to the Pokemon center, but stopped, and looked back one final time.
…Don’t go in there. Don’t do it. Something’s in there, SOMETHING was making that ringing sound. If you go in there, there is literally a 100% chance SOMETHING is there, waiting for you.
I closed my eyes, and ran in.
I’m going to die. Yup.
---
Total darkness. I breathed a steady flame before me, so I could see around myself. I was terrified, horrified, totally petrified with fear. I was hugging myself tightly, shaking as I walked further into the alleyway.
And then…I reached the end. There was nothing here.
“That’s it?” I said allowed. My arms fell to my sides, and I stopped shaking.
There…there was nothing here!
I heard the ringing once more, and looked down. A small circular metal thing shook slightly. I pushed on it with my foot, and it made the same ringing sound.
What is this thing? Is it a Pokémon?
I prodded it again, and it moves a little, revealing a bit of a passageway…straight down. I pushed it harder, but it was really heavy.
I bent down, and pushed it with all my strength. Slowly, it slid off the hole, or at least enough where I could fit. Fortunately there was a ladder. Into…the dark…scary…foreboding…hole.
Well, as long as my life is forfeit anyway…
I crouched down, and placed a hesitant paw on the first rung. Finding it stable enough, I placed a foot on the second, and slowly inched the rest of my body on the ladder.
Okay, so we know you ARE going to die…
I climbed down the ladder, creeping down at a snail’s pace.
But HOW exactly are you going to die?
I lost my footing, but was able to regain it quickly. I gulped, and shuddered at what could have happened.
Will it be quick?
I continued climbing down, trying not to cry in fear.
Or will it be slow and drawn out?
For some reason, I couldn’t climb down anymore. I looked down, and I noticed the ladder had ended, and I was standing on the ground. I let go of the ladder, and turned around.
I could hear…cheering. There was light, too. Hesitantly, I walked through the arch, into the strange, wide room.
---
(Overdose POV)
I grabbed the back of Snivel’s collar, and hoist him into the air, grinning the evil grin only the arena would allow. This was the moment I craved – the moment before the victory, where your opponent was completely at your mercy. The crowd roared in approval, and egged me on with shouts of ‘Finish him!’ and
‘Kill him!’ echoing through the air.
A small, fierce bass suddenly pumped into the arena, fueling me further with hatred. I flipped Snivel around, and caught him by the fur on his chest. He didn’t look back, and instead looked dully at the ground.
“Still think you know me, you little piece of shit?” I whispered, growling into Snivel’s ear.
“I…I don’t know who you are…” He hiccupped, trying to breathe normally.
“Damn right you don’t.” I threw him off me, and kicked him with both paws right in the gut. He flew a small ways before returning to the earth, no longer willing or able to shield himself from the impact. I calmly walked forward, and picked him back up. Snivel didn’t resist, and gurgled something and I hoisted him back into the air.
“Finish him!” The crowd roared.
“Think I’ll do it?” I grinned, forcing Snivel to look me in the eyes. He tried to escape my gaze, so I roughly twisted his neck, forcing him to match my eyes.
“Do you!?”
He convulsed, and looked back at me with wide, terrified eyes.
“WHEN YOU DIE…” I roared, exciting the crowd once more.
“I want you to know you failed. You didn’t protect anyone back then, five long years ago. I’m still alive, Snivel. And guess what?”
He struggled to breathe in my grasp.
“It won’t stop with you. I’ll find the rest – I’ll find all your friends, and bring them here too.”
The fear in his eyes turned to anger, as he feebly resisted my grasp.
“And it won’t stop with them either, you little bitch. Who do you care about most? A partner perhaps?”
He swung forward and tried to kick me, but I held him firmly in place.
“Who is it then?”
He growled, his fear replaced by wrath.
“Your trainer?”
A fist smashed into my eye, cloaked in dark energy. I stumbled back and tried to regain my footing just as another fist caught me in the jaw. Snivel raced at me again, surrounded in an aura of black energy. He bounded up with a combination of swirling darkness and electricity, and charged at me.
A second wind?
I caught him in midair, and introduced him back to the floor, with a satisfying crunch. He crawled back up, and I smashed him again with my foot.
“Yeaaaaah!” The crowd cheered in approval. “Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!” They chanted in unison, sending the echoes coursing through the arena’s cavern.
“You’re so uncreative!” I shouted back momentarily stunning the audience. “How should I kill him!?”
“Break him!” Someone in the audience yelled.
“Bleed him!”
“Smear him on the floor!”
“I have a better idea.” I growled, smiling to myself.
---
(Static POV)
Pain. I couldn’t remember a time where I was rid of it. All I felt, everything I experienced was shrouded in a haze of agony. I couldn’t stand. I couldn’t move. I could barely breath, and even then it was labored. Overdose…Rough…he was going to kill me. This was how I died.
“Hey Snivel?” Overdose commanded.
I couldn’t look up.
“You can’t swim.”
What?
“I remember throwing you into a lake, way back when. You sunk instantly, didn’t you?”
Y…yeah, I remember that…
“A Pokemon that can’t swim! I can’t believe your kind still exists!”
That’s…that’s not true anymore…
“I’m going to watch you drown, Snivel!”
Josh…
“Or better yet, I’m going to blast you into the sea!”
Josh taught me how to swim…
“Hyper beam style!”
It was one of the first things we learned together…
“Grab his paws!”
I felt myself being lifted by two opposing forces. I looked up meekly, to see Overdose standing in front of me. Two of the dark, gemstone Pokémon were holding me in place.
Josh…
I wanted to faint. I wanted to go unconscious, and have this pain all be over. I wanted to wake up, healed, and in Josh’s arms. I didn’t care about losing anymore; I just wanted to be home…
The lights in the cavern dulled, as I watched Overdose summon a large ball of light in his jaws. He turned to me and smiled, giving me one last look, full of unfiltered malice.
“I’ll see you in hell, Snivel.”
The white glow blasted into me, sending me soaring off into the sky. The heat of the attack ignited my fur, and superheated my flesh. Pain. Everywhere, and everything I could ever experience was torture, and once again I was able to scream as I flew out of the cave, and towards the open ocean. I heard someone scream back from the cavern, as my smoking body flew outwards, towards the sea.
“STAATTIIIIIIC!”
---
Is this…how flying Pokémon see?
I had been flying for almost five seconds. I spun lazily in the air, unable to control my body as the force from the blow slowly spun me around. As much as I loathed the thought, I forced myself to remain conscious.
I couldn’t move. Josh taught me to swim, but what good was swimming when you had no paws you could use to swim with?
I began falling.
The foreboding night waters were still, giving no hint to what may lie underneath. I had no choice, and I knew crashing into even water from this height would hurt badly. I couldn’t swim. I couldn’t move, and I could barely breathe. One more second, and I would crash into the black, icy waters. I closed my eyes, and did the only thing I could do.
I held my breath.
---
CRASH
I went under. The water was freezing, and the salt stung my eyes, but I firmly held my breath. I didn’t know how deep I went, but I couldn’t see the surface anymore. All I saw around me was blackness. There wasn’t any hint of light, or any creature under the waves. Calling it like midnight would be a lie, or the color of ink, because we can see those colors, or lack thereof. This was different. This wasn’t just black, it was the pure absence of color. There was nothing here. I couldn’t swim, or cry, or call for help. I was trapped, inside the pure blackness of the waves.
I felt a tugging sensation as I was pulled in one direction. The sensation got stronger and stronger, until suddenly, I saw light once more. My body broke free of the water, and I gulped down the air that I could now breathe.
It was night. The sky was black, and the water was black. I could see the shore, but it was far away…maybe more than a mile. I couldn’t swim…
I didn’t resist the water’s influence as it pushed and pulled me across the waves. Dead Mon’s float. It wasn’t swimming, but it was the first technique Josh taught me about staying above the waves. I thought it was stupid at the time, but now, it was the only thing I could do.
I don’t want to die…
I looked up at the night sky, and for once, maybe I saw what Josh always saw when he gazed at it. He would always describe it in such detail, like the glitter of the stars, and the cool light of the moon. I never appreciated it until now. I always though giving such detail to nature was stupid, and poetic. But now, all I wanted was to be on that shore, in his arms, and have him tell me all about the stupid moon. I wanted to be safe, but I knew I could never make it back to shore. The current was pushing me more and more into the ocean, and with nothing left to do but float, I couldn’t resist its influence.
Josh… |
How long had I floated on the water? It seemed like lifetimes; eternities of staring into the blurring stars. There were times where I felt like I was waking up, and there were times where I felt myself slipping away, but into sleep or death I didn’t know. I woke up again, and with no other choice, continued looking up into the night sky.
This…this is how I die.
I gulped with the realization as a smooth wave lifted my body slightly, then lowered it once more. Even staying afloat required some amount of energy, and I knew I wasn’t capable of it much longer. I took a deep breath, and shuddered.
I hope…I hope Josh’ll be okay without me.
I sniffed, instantly regretting it as pain coursed through my face. I cringed instantly, and more pain tore apart my muscles. I lost my steadiness in my agony, and accidentally turned, losing my buoyancy. My head went under first, greeting me with the awful, drying, salty taste of the cruel, uncaring sea. I thrashed - losing precious moments of energy I couldn’t spare – and finally righted myself once more, and took a breath of the sweet air.
Air I may not be able to taste soon…
Careful this time not to snivel, I let a tear fall from my face, and land in the endless seas. It didn’t matter. All I hoped was that Josh would be okay after I died. That he wouldn’t blame himself or Skarr for my-
“Statgggullllph!” A voice cried to my right, swallowing saltwater instead of finishing their cry. I carefully turned my head, but couldn’t see anything in the endless black. I did hear coughing and splashing though, until finally I could make out what the voice was calling out.
“STAAATIC!”
In my haze, I couldn’t tell who the voice belonged to; all I knew was that they were my friend…and maybe I wouldn’t die. They came over to me, but I still couldn’t make out who they were. A strange, mystical light from somewhere illuminated the waters…
“Static! Oh thank goodness. Grab my tail, and I’ll swim us out of here. And can you keep my fire from touching the waves? You don’t know how bad it burns!”
The voice washed over me, but I didn’t quite understand the meaning behind it. Hesitantly, I grabbed an offered tail, mesmerized by the bright flame before me. The creature was orange and had a muscular tail, and had curved, angular features.
“…Charmander?” I asked hesitantly, as he pulled me in a specific direction.
“Not anymore.” The creature laughed, though I could tell he was quickly getting exhausted. Despite his fit appearance, it was likely he didn’t swim often, being a fire type. The Pokémon drew another shaky breath, and continued his relentless pace across the waves.
“Nova?” I questioned, the current tugging me alongside him. “But…but you…you can’t swim.”
“I never said that.” Nova responded. “I just said I was…” he trailed off.
“Afraid. You were afraid of the water.”
Nova didn’t speak for a while. A part of my mind was worried I offended him, but I couldn’t hold on to the thought, and it slipped from my mind. After some time, I felt my grip begin to weaken, and I felt myself beginning to lose consciousness. I saw the Pokémon grab be my collar, and hoist me on their back as they continued the voyage…
“I am afraid. I guess…I don’t know. I knew I needed to do this to save you. I guess…some fears are worth facing.”
…I woke up, and we were on a beach. There were buildings and bright lights, and pretty things. I wasn’t walking…my feet weren’t moving. Something was carrying me…I didn’t know where we were going, but I wasn’t scared. I trusted it…whatever it was. When my eyes closed again, I didn’t fight it.
---
(Josh POV)
“Josh, Pokémon are incredibly resilient. I’m not sure what happened, but I’m sure Static-”
“Not now Sandy.” I held up a shaky hand, and pressed it across my forehead. “J-just…not now.”
We were in the emergency care unit of the Pokemon center. Sandy sat beside me, resting her head on my shoulders. Even if I didn’t want to talk, she knew the small gesture would at least calm me down some amount.
To my right was Wiggly, who was being uncharacteristically quiet. She held a somber expression, and hugged herself with her tiny paws. Skarr sat as a crumpled mess in the corner; his feathers unpreened, and his coat murky and unkempt. Nova laid beside me, wrapped in my jacket. Only moments earlier he had rushed Static to the Pokemon center. He was drenched with seawater, and barely had enough strength to hand Static over to the nurse before collapsing on the floor in exhaustion. I hadn’t even had time to thank him; all I could do was cover him with my jacket as he slumbered beside me.
Static looked…rough. They were stabilizing him now, and they told us that they would update us with results as soon as they had any new information.
I wanted to wake up Nova and ask him, but he was out cold. New information, while perhaps relieving me of some stress, wouldn’t help Static right now. Instead, I laid a calming hand on the now Charmeleon’s back.
Some time passed, and Sandy placed her hand on my shoulder to get my attention.
“Josh. Let’s get some rest, shall we? It’s past midnight. We can get the information in the morning.”
“You go. I’ll carry Nova as well, and put him in my bed.”
“No Josh. I won’t be able to rest with you out here.”
“And I won’t be able to rest while Static’s still…” I bit back what I was about to say. “Look. I won’t be sleeping tonight. If you have a chance to, I would take it.”
“And leave you out here alone?” Sandy looked at me with worried, forlorn eyes.
“I’m not alone.” I motioned to Skarr.
“He’s hardly suitable company, especially in a time like this! You need someone to talk to…or…not talk to, if you prefer.” Sandy pouted. “You need someone here.”
“And I’ll need someone tomorrow too.” I looked up. Sandy visibly flinched when I made eye contact – maybe she hadn’t expected to see my eyes? No doubt they were bloodshot…I probably looked terrible. “It won’t be an admission of weakness to go to sleep. You’re wrong – I don’t need someone. I need you. But right now, nothing’s happening. We’ll get more information in the morning, and i-if things go south…” I choked back a sob.
“Things won’t go south.” Sandy whispered, putting a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
“…then I’ll need you more than ever.” I looked back at her, puffy-eyed and all. “And, I’ll need to make sure you’re awake.” I smiled meekly, poking her in the ribs. She smiled. “Because I certainly won’t be.”
“You promise you’ll be okay for the night?” Sandy pleaded, one last time. I nodded. “Okay. I’ll carry Nova to our room, and set him on the one Myst is taking up. Tell me if anything changes, okay?”
“Of course. Take care.”
Take care? That was…an odd thing to say.
“Y-you too.” Sandy carefully scooped Nova into her arms, wincing slightly at his new found weight. Noticing her discomfort, I fished the room key out of my pocket, and walked her to the door, where I pushed it open for her. After a muffled ‘thanks’ from Sandy, I made it back to the lobby, where Skarr still hadn’t moved.
I walked over to where Skarr was lying and sat down next to him. Skarr looked up at me with wide, scared, guilt-ridden amber spheres that speaked the volumes he dared not to. I placed a hand on his metallic down, and rubbed it softly between my fingers.
<…You should hate me.> Skarr concluded, after a long silence.
<I don’t blame you.> I responded. Static wasn’t hurt because of him, it was some kind of outer influence; one I would learn about later when Nova or Static would wake up.
<You should.> Skarr sulked, placing his head on the smooth, marble floor.
<You couldn’t have foreseen this.>
<No, but I could have seen Static, like you told me to.>
<Don’t blame yourself for this.>
<I have to.> Skarr forced a grin, though I could tell it hurt him terribly. <No one else seems to be, for some reason.>
<Because it’s not your fault.>
Skarr turned away, and resumed his silent ways. I leaned against the wall, trying to stay optimistic, but deep within my soul fearing for the worst. Static had been there for so much of my life. He was almost a part of who I was now, and losing him would…
Losing him…
I took a quick breath, and stood up. Skarr whipped his head around, giving me a questioning gaze, as if to ask why I was leaving.
< I’ll be right back.> I assured him. He nodded in understanding, and slumped back to the floor. I turned, and walked down the dimly lit hallway.
---
I shuddered, and clutched the sink with a shaking hand. There were dark circles under my red, inflamed eyes, giving my normal cheery green eyes a haunted, sickly appearance. I cupped some water from the faucet into my mouth, to wash out the taste of bile.
<Josh?> A hesitant thought prodded against my own from a consciousness outside the bathroom. I splashed my face with water, trying to get it to return to
its normal color. <Josh, if I don’t hear from you, I’m coming in there.>
<I’m fine, j-just give me a moment.> I barked.
Calm. You never snap at people. There is nothing to gain from being short tempered. You’re going to go out there and apologize for that.
…after a moment.
I supported myself against the sink again, and sighed. I felt terrible.
I feel like I’m helping everyone else tonight. Why can’t I get mad!? Why can’t I be irrational, and get upset!? Skarr thinks I’m mad at him? I AM! This entire thing could have been avoided if he had just FUCKING listened! And Sandy! She knows I’m grieving, but she would rather lie in bed then-
Deep breath.
I realized I was crying again.
‘You’re being irrational.’ A voice in my head spoke.
‘NO SHIT.’ Another one answered. ‘My best friend could DIE. He might already be DEAD.”
‘Then that’s when you need your friends.’
‘S....s-shut up.’
My rational side was right, of course, but it didn’t help matters. I coughed into the sink again, and rinsed out my mouth one final time before heading outside.
<Josh?> Skarr asked hesitantly. He was standing outside the bathroom, with a look of concern on his face. <Are you okay?>
As soon as the words left his mouth, he cringed expectantly. We both knew the answer. If my eyes didn’t tell the story well enough, the smell of bile told it well enough. Skarr cringed expectantly, ready for a fury of words asking how he could be so foolish to ask if ‘I was okay’. I sighed, and slipped out a mint I got from the service desk.
<Yeah Skarr, I’m okay.>
I knew what he meant, of course. ‘Okay’ now had a new meaning. ‘Okay’ didn’t mean everything was fine, or that I was happy. ‘Okay’ didn’t mean that I wasn’t crying, or throwing up in the bathroom sink. Okay now meant ‘are you stable enough to be alone; are you safe? Are you a danger to yourself’, which the answer was an uneasy yes. Skarr nodded, a guilty expression once again crossing his face.
<T-that was phrased poorly on my end…> Skarr gulped, shrinking away.
<I knew what you meant. Want to go sit down again?>
<…Yes please.>
And we walked back to the lobby and sat, with fear and hope coursing through our thoughts like the wind on a stormy night...
---
“…j…sh…jo...sh…Josh!”
My eyes regained focus, and I looked up to see a concerned nurse eyeing me from across the room.
“I’m sorry…” I sighed, and shook my head. “I didn’t quite catch what you said.”
“I said he’s ready to see you.”
“Static?” I breathed a sigh of relief, and bounced up from my seat.
“No, sir. Static’s doctor.”
“…Oh.” I felt deflated. The happiness of the moment was stolen from me, and replaced by a similar hole that had slowly begun to drill its way into my heart.
I felt hollow.
“Follow me.” The nurse motioned.
We walked for a short time down a hall. Once we had walked for five minutes or so, she stopped abruptly, and looked to the side. I matched her gaze, and noticed a large viewing window to my right. It appeared to be a surgeon’s room, filled with various medical equipment. A monitor display was present and giving signs of a weak yet beating heart. I hesitantly pressed closer to the glass. The patient was hooked into several different machines, with more than a dozen different cords flowing out of their body. The body was covered, and was far too small to be human.
A small yellow thunderbolt tail hung loosely to the side of the table. I closed my eyes, and focused on my breathing.
He’s Static. He…he can make it through anything.
“This Pokémon was beaten relentlessly, burned, mutilated, and mercilessly harmed.” The nurse spoke in a low, monotone voice. She glanced in my direction with uncaring, cold, heartless eyes. “He never should have been able to withstand this abuse. How his body has held up this long is beyond me. He should have died a while ago.” The nurse turned back to the window, and put her hand on the glass, as if to touch the sleeping Pikachu, or put a warm hand on the patient’s shoulder. “From his wounds, I have no doubt that there were times he wished he could have died. Perhaps it would have even been for the better. I can’t picture the kind of mental scarring someone would collect from this kind of abuse.”
Her words made my insides rot, as if I was being slowly consumed from the inside.
“C…can I s-see him?” I asked, on the verge of tears.
“Why would you want to see that Pikachu?” The nurse hissed with unprofessional scorn. “He’s not yours.”
“What!?”
“Your Pikachu is in one of the recovery rooms.”
My sadness and guilt turned to anger, and I faced the nurse with teary, bloodshot eyes.
“Is this some kind of game to you!?”
“Game.” The nurse turned away, and stared at the Pikachu beneath the sheet. “No, this is certainly no game to me, trainer. I hope it isn’t to you either.”
This nurse has wasted enough of my time.
“I want to see Static.” I demanded.
“Funny; he wanted to see you as well. First thing he said. Not ‘give me more morphine’, not ‘Why am I in the hospital’, or even ‘Thank you for saving me’.”
“Where’s his room?” I growled menacingly.
“Room 224. Find it yourself; I’m not walking you there.” The nurse turned around, and walked away.
I pushed away my scorn for the odd nurses actions, and bolted down the hallway, and up the stairs.
Static was awake!
The thought instantly calmed me, and released my tensed up muscles that I hadn’t realized had been stressed for so long.
…He’s alive. Static…Static’s alive.
I choked back a happy sob. But no—now wasn’t the time for that.
First, I need to see him. First I need to make sure it’s HIM, make sure he’s okay, and make sure he’s not hurt anymore.
Room 224. Here.
I swung open the door, and saw Static lying in bed. He was half covered in the sheets, but from what I could tell, he looked surprisingly good. There was a bandage wrapped around his forehead, and a sling around his waist, but he looked healthy and vibrant. Upon seeing me, he jolted forward, but some kind of restraining device held him in place. His eyes were as big as I had ever seen them, with a mixture of relief and pure joy.
“JOSH!”
“Static!”
I ran forward, and hugged him as gingerly as I could, careful not to aggravate the injuries to his side. He however didn’t have any reservations, and squeezed me as tightly as his little paws could.
I noticed he was crying. He didn’t let go, and held me with all of his might. All I heard was a small sniffing sound, mixed with the quiet hiccup of a sob.
“I though…I thought I wouldn’t wake up, Josh…” Static whimpered, clutching my sides as he shook.
“You’re here now, Static, and you’re okay. You’re okay now.”
After a few moments, he calmed down, and released me from his miniature grip. He instantly wiped his eyes – hurt or not, Static wasn’t one to openly show emotion. This small, perhaps childish act reassured me. No matter what had happened, Static was still himself, even if he was shaken.
“Can you talk about it?” I asked, sitting on the bedside next to Static. I noticed his left paw was cuffed to the bed, and the resulting skin around static’s arm was an agitated red.
Why would they cuff him to the bed? Was he on some kind of dangerous medication, that made him unstable?
“Y-yeah.” Static sighed, and nodded slowly. “But…it’s hard to tell. Can we bring everyone here first? I don’t…I don’t want to tell it more than once.”
“Of course. Let’s wait some time though; I think the others are sleeping right now. I know I could certainly use some rest…”
“Me too, I feel like gar-” The word Static was about to use was lost, as tears welled up in his eyes once more. “H-hey Josh, um, c-could you…”
“Sleep here for the night?”
“J-just for tonight…” Static shook.
“Of course.” I got up and turned off the lights, then flopped on the mattress next to Static. He curled up by my side as much as he could – the restraint seemed to be digging into his arm quite a bit. Thinking quickly, I got out a small Swiss-Army knife from my pack, and dug at the lock mechanism for a moment. After a second or two, I finally disabled the device with a satisfying ‘pop’. Static rubbed his paw appreciatively, but looked at me confusion.
“You…you broke it.” He concluded sleepily, starting into my eyes with concern.
“I fixed it.” I smiled. He grinned, and curled up against me. I sighed one final time for the night; one final, content, sigh.
Static was safe… |
<…and his tail smashed into me, like, really hard.> Static continued his tale. I stood by his bed listening intently, trying to push away my spite for Rough, or Overdose now, as he preferred. I would let him finish his story, but immediately after I would report this to the authorities. This kind of set-up was inexcusable, and I shuddered to think about the amount of Pokémon that had lost their lives to this type of abuse. The only thing that kept me rooted in place was the fact that Static needed me right now.
Static continued talking, occasionally getting lost in the competitive aspects of the battle, but then finding himself again, and shuddering about the whole experience. I didn’t know what drug they had injected him with, but once again, this was a question for a later point.
Static stopped for a moment. <Josh?>
<Yes, Static?>
<Um, can I have a cup of water?>
I bit my tongue. Even if just for a second, Static was beginning to sound like Nova. It wasn’t like him. He was never timid, or at least, hadn’t been in years.
Overconfident and perhaps proud – never skittish. What Overdose did to him shook something inside Static pretty hard to bring this side of himself to the surface.
<Sure, bud.> I stood up, and got a water bottle from one of my bags. Finding it empty, I left the room in search for a water fountain. Upon walking out the
door, I nearly bumped into the same nurse from before.
“Excuse-” My mind automatically began apologizing for the slight social violation before I saw whom I was addressing, and how disturbingly close she was to the door. “…were you eavesdropping on us!?”
“As if you didn’t realize that.” The nurse scowled.
I gave her a disbelieving look before turning my back to find the fountain.
“I’m not done talking with you.” She spat.
“Do you have news about Static’s condition?”
“No.”
“Well, then I’m done talking with you.” I ground my teeth and continued to walk. She jogged to catch up to me, and turned to me with an angry glare.
“So, how much of that was rehearsed?”
“Excuse me?” Perhaps it was my lack of sleep, or all the stress I had been under, but I was beginning to notice my near-limitless patience for others was draining dangerously thin.
“You know, the whole ‘captured’ storyline your Pikachu gave. It was quite endearing; him playing the part of the victim, and your other Pokémon – Nova was it? That went and swam two miles to rescue him. Truly touching, if it weren’t all a lie.”
I turned sharply, and took a deep breath to steady myself. “My Pokémon aren’t telling lies.”
“And yourself! Perhaps the best actor of them all.” The nurse took a step closer, and jabbed a finder into my chest. “Tearing up at his story, and staying with
him as he slept, instead of going to your room. You cover your tracks well.”
“What do you want?” I looked at her with angry incredulity.
“Nothing.” She shrugged, suddenly complacent. “Why would I want anything? Well, I do need one thing. Now that your Pikachu is healthy, you need to leave. Now.”
“What is your definition of ‘healthy’? He’s in more than one cast, and clearly needs bed rest!” I noticed my voice growing in volume, and made a mental note to calm down. I felt my pulse begin to quicken.
“Doesn’t matter. He’ll live, and that’s all I’m obligated to do. We need the room.”
“You do NOT!” I shouted, then quickly steadied myself. “You have dozens of open rooms!”
“Those are for other patients.”
“They’re unfilled! Aggravation of his injuries could take months to heal, if not years!”
“That isn’t my concern, trainer. Get him out of the room.”
Unintentionally, I looked the nurse up and down. It was instinctual; some kind of primitive chemical instinct that triggered before a conflict. She was average height but thin – weak around her upper body, with little muscle to support her frame. I clenched my fist, and stood firm.
“I won’t let you.” I said simply. My breath quickened and my pulse began to race. I had never felt like this before – adrenaline spikes sure, but this was different. I felt angry. Not upset, not disappointed, pure, undiluted anger. The rational part of my mind was screaming at me to get away from this situation
before I did something I regretted, but the other side knew I needed to stay and hold my ground.
“Oh? You think you intimidate me, trainer?” The nurse cooed, leaning against the wall.
The last rational point of my mind relinquished its control. I dashed at her, and smashed my fist into the wall next to her face. The wall tore open, releasing a spray of dried paint and drywall. I removed my fist from the wall, and gave her the most intense glare I was capable of giving. Her smirk was erased as her eyes widened in fear.
“Yes.” I growled in a voice that I had never used before. “I think I ‘intimidate’ you. Now let’s get something clear. You will not be releasing my Pokémon until is he is fully healed. I don’t know who you are or how you even became certified to become a nurse with your attitude, but I swear, with every fiber of my being, if you hurt him I will break you.”
She struggled against my grip. I didn’t realize I had grabbed the collar of her shirt in my rage. I released it, never breaking my glare from her eyes. She looked back, terrified yet confused.
“Y…you care about him?” She mumbled back, looking at me with bewilderment.
“Of course I care about him!” I yelled. “He’s my best friend!”
The nurse went quiet for a moment, and stared at the floor. When her gaze turned back to my eyes, she looked different. Not jaded and cruel like before, but meek, and almost…
…broken.
“Do you know what Pokerus is?” She asked, with a hint of a quiver in her voice.
“No?” I felt myself calm somewhat, and my head begin to clear. “Is it some kind of medicine?”
“Hardly…” She sighed, and rubbed her forehead. She couldn’t have been more than thirty, but suddenly she seemed much older. The cruelty in her eyes was
replaced by a look of pain.
“What is it then?”
“A drug. Well, Pokerus isn’t just in itself, but mixed with other chemicals it is.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Traces of Pokerus were found in your Pikachu – Static, is it? – that indicated he had taken the drug in the last few hours.”
“I wouldn’t say ‘taken’, I would say ‘was injected with’.” I felt a bit of my anger return.
“My apologies.” She took a step back, and bowed her head.
“What does this drug do?”
“Causes selective muscle degeneration, bone decay, skin discoloration, nausea, cancer…” She began listing off the side effects. After a moment she stopped.
“But most of all, it prevents Pokémon from fainting.”
I blinked. “What? So what, are they just invulnerable?”
“No. They’re just capable of fighting to the death.”
I took a breath, and began processing what I had learned. A piece of an unfinished puzzle tore at me like a hangnail, frustrating me until finally the pieces snapped together.
“That Pikachu, in surgery. He’s yours, isn’t he?” I stated firmly. After a moment I realized what I said was rather blunt, but I didn’t care. She looked back at me, and shuddered.
“Actually, no.” The nurse shook her head. “I would never have been part of that arena.”
“If you knew about the arena’s existence, why haven’t you alerted the authorities!?” I demanded.
She bit her lip, and I noticed tears beginning to form on the edge of her eyes.
“Were you paid!?” I demanded, taking a step closer to her. She shook her head. “Does the law enforcement already know, and are corrupt?” Once more, she shook her head. “Then what? Why haven’t you told anyone?”
“B-because they’ll…they’ll kill her.” The nurse broke down completely, sobbing in the hallway. I was slightly taken aback by her extreme show of emotion.
“Who? Who will they kill?”
“C-charity. My Blissey.” She choked.
Now the pieces slid together. I still didn’t know how the Pikachu downstairs played a role in any of this, but I had more information.
“You found out, and they took her, and threatened you with her death if you spoke out.” I concluded. She nodded timidly, tears rolling down her face. “You thought I was with them. You thought I did this to my Pikachu on purpose, and expected your help, despite what ‘we’ did to you.” Another nod. I offered her my hand, which she looked inquisitively at.
“What are you doing?” She asked, starting at my hand.
“Helping you up. We’re going back to the room, and we’re going to figure this out. Come on.” I lifted her to her feet, and we ran back to the room.
---
Everyone looked up when I came back to the room. Static gave me a quick look of confusion at the empty water bottle in my hand, but then a knowing glace once he saw the determination in my eyes. I turned to everyone, and took a quick breath.
<The worst may not be over for us all.> I announced. <A Blissey is trapped down there, possibly being forced to fight like Static. I’m going to go down there and rescue her. It’s early in the day, and it’s not likely->
<BULLSHIT!> Sandy shouted. <You’re not going down there! Josh, you’ve hardly slept, and you couldn’t stand in a fight against a Pokémon! Especially these, they’re trained killers!>
<I’ll go.> Static nodded, and tried to shift out of bed.
<You will NOT!> Sandy shouted. <You’re in multiple casts, and you’re terribly weakened!> I made a motion to move. <Neither can you Josh! You’re both being ridiculous!> Sandy snapped at us.
<Let me go.> Myst said quietly.
<No.> I said instinctively. <It’s not->
<Josh. Think for a moment. Who else can get in there stealthily? For you it’s a matter of luck; hoping no one will be there. For me, it’s a matter of skill. I take the form of a commoner in the arena, find the Blissey, and return. If I am spotted, I simply change forms until I am not recognized. Simple.>
I opened my mouth to object, but I couldn’t find a reasonable objection.
<Tell me where to go, and I’ll go now.> Myst nodded.
<Myst, I can’t send you out there after what happened to Nova. I don’t trust this with anyone but myself. If something happened to you->
<-Which is why I don’t plan on something happening to me.> Myst stated firmly.
<Are you sure about this Myst?> Sandy asked. Myst nodded.
<No!> I shouted. <I don’t give her permission. I’m her trainer, and->
<You’re also not in the right frame of mind.> Sandy said calmly. My mind burned with the anger from before, but the rational portion of my mind won me
over, and I sat down and began evaluating my behavior. Had I been reckless? I started feeling numb.
<Alright. Let’s start planning then. Wiggly, you know where Static traveled, right? You can get there?>
<Yes!> Wiggly nodded.
<Good. Lead Myst there. Wait for her outside, and alert ANYONE at any sign of trouble. Stay safe. Actually, better yet, I’m going with you. Safety in crowds. Nova, you’re also coming with us. You got a good view of the arena, and you’re going to describe it to Myst as we walk. Once we get there, we’ll be standing right outside, as inconspicuously as possible.>
<It’s actually below the city.> Nova pointed out. <We would have to stand in the alley, while Myst traveled down.>
<Very well. Myst, you’ll scream as loud as you can if the situation gets out of control, and two of us will come down while the third alerts the police. We should resist alerting the police for now, in case anyone from the arena catches wind of it, and decides to honor their agreement with the nurse. Everyone ready? Let’s go.> Sandy nodded fiercely, as if she had done this a thousand times. Her eyes were dedicated, and demanded respect and loyalty. My Pokémon were obedient and efficient in her hands.
No wonder she had become a Master so quickly.
They left, and the numbing feeling continued to grow. I felt powerless. Sandy had made a wise choice in cutting me off from the plans. As much as I loathed the thought, I was the weakest link here. Even if Static was brought along, he could hold his own despite his injuries. He would hurt himself of course, but he would be better in a fight then a human. The only thing I could do was yell for help.
…yell for help…
The thought left a bitter taste in my mind. I waited a few minutes after Sandy and the rest had left, and turned to Static. He was resting quietly on the bed, even breaths exiting his small, weakened frame.
Good.
I turned to Skarr. Like I presumed, he was a mess. An outer expression of inner turmoil. I probably agreed I didn’t look much better, but that wasn’t an issue right now.
<Skarr!> I thought roughly in a commanding voice. Skarr’s head shot up at attention, despite his gaunt, haunted appearance. I didn’t use this tone often, but when I did, I expected to be obeyed. <I need to leave. Now. I need you to look after Static, and ensure his safety while I’m gone.>
Skarr bent his neck meekly. Now that I could see his frame, I saw how disheveled he really was. Although I got some semblance of sleep last night, it was likely he didn’t gain any at all. His eyes softened at my request, and cringed with guilt.
<You would trust me? With his care?> Skarr whispered in quiet disbelief.
<I would trust you, because I know you will not fail.> I stated. Saying such things left a terrible taste in my mouth. I was very empathetic by nature, and I realized the implications of what I was saying. Although on the outside it may have appeared I was only saying I had confidence in him, there was a darker, implied notion. The words ‘this time’ haunted after my phrase, though I did not wield them. It wasn’t necessary, because I knew he still felt their weight.
<I won’t.> He nodded gravely. I turned swiftly and left the hospital. |
(Overdose POV)
The sun burned against my eyes. How long had it been since I had the displeasure of being conscious during the day? I loathed it. I loathed the sun, the bright sky, and the soft grass beneath my feet. Most of all though, I loathed the people I passed, humans and Pokémon alike. Their smiles scorched into me more than the abysmal sun, each of them reminding me that they knew nothing of the world underneath them.
The Arena.
That was why I hated the Overworld. My feet could no longer feel the touch of the grass, for they had hardened with the time only stepping on sharpened rocks and concrete. My skin would scorch quickly from the introduction to the sun that I had so long forgotten, and the sky was not the cool, black night I had come to know.
I kept my head down, and walked briskly to my location. Unfortunately, my form caught the eye of a gaudy, snobbish rich human woman. In seeing me, she held her hand over dramatically to her mouth, and gasped lightly.
<Oh my!> She thought only to me. <Honey, are you alright? You look dreadful. Are you hurt?>
Bitch, you don’t know the meaning of pain.
<I bit, miss. I’m actually on my way to the Pokémon center now. Could you possibly point me in the right direction?>
No reason to be rude, of course.
<Over that way – would you like me to walk you there? You almost look like you were beaten! Are you sure you’re alright? I’ve seen enough Pokémon to
know when they’re hurt.>
You think you know me? Come down to the arena, and I’ll give you a taste of what I am.
<No thank you.> I nodded curtly. <Trust me. This is mostly from a birth defect. I’m mostly going for a check-up, to ensure my symptoms haven’t gotten
worse.>
Eat my lies, you ignorant piece of shit.
<Oh, well, if you’re sure, honey. Be safe, alright?>
<I will.>
Idiot.
---
The automatic whoosh of the pokecenter doors greeted me as I stepped inside. The receptionist looked up when I walked in, and his eyes went wide.
<D-do you want me to call the nurse!?> He yelped, surprised. Interesting. He must be new. Usually when doctors saw me they wouldn’t bother to ask, and
they would just attempt to grab me instead, and force me into a room. It’s a mistake they would only make once, but even so I expected it. His inexperience would make my lie easier.
<No thank you, sir. I just have a rare condition, but I assure you I’ve had my monthly checkup. I’m actually here for a friend.>
<Oh.> The receptionist relaxed somewhat. <Do you know what room he’s in?>
<Yes.> I lied.
<Okay. Do come back if you’re experiencing any discomfort, alright?>
<Of course.> I smiled back, my lies whitening my sharpened teeth. I turned and walked down the hallway, careful to walk at a calm yet quick pace.
He would be alive. Of course he would be alive.
I peeked in the windows of every room, hoping to catch a glimpse of the elusive Pikachu. Growling to myself, I moved silently from room to room. This
would take hours. I half considered going back to the receptionist and asking for his room, but that would begin to unravel my carefully constructed web of
fallacies. No, I would bear my inconvenience with my stubborn guile, even if I had to search every damned room.
---
Finally. You’d think I would have found him quicker, considering his room was ten times larger than the others, and had a giant windowpane looking into it.
After making sure no one was inside, I picked the door, and strolled within. He was a wreck. I knew pain, and I knew the agony he must have undergone to
achieve the types of medication he was getting. He had multiple bags hooked into him, and machines at both sides, displaying strange symbols. His breath
shallowly rose and fell, like the falling of the last leaf on a tree before winter.
My paw inadvertently kicked some piece of metal connected to a machine. I cringed at the unexpected noise, loathing giving away my stealth. Suddenly, he
stopped breathing.
His chest gave way to a heavy sigh, and he suddenly shifted positions, sitting upright in bed. His eyes creased open, and a monitor to his side began to beep
with an increased frequency.
“…Overdose.” He said simply, smiling a weak smile. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”
“Welcome back to the land of the living.” I spat.
“You seem upset, Dosey. Lose a bet?”
“I almost lost-”
I almost lost a friend.
I held my tongue. “You’re an idiot.”
“Auuugh, but you should have seen it ‘Dose!”
“I did. I was there.” I growled.
“No. SEEN it. You saw it, but you didn’t see it, man.” The Pikachu’s eyes went wide as he grasped at something invisible. “I could feel it. The waves in my
hand. I could taste it. I swear, one more dose and I could have summoned it. Think of it – a Pikachu using Hydro Pump. Never been done before! I would
have been the first. Ever! I was so close.” The Pikachu slumped back into bed, with a dreamy expression crossing his face.
“It’s not worth you getting killed.”
“Psssssssssh!” The Pikachu laughed. “Dosey, you know we’re invincible. Death can’t even touch us.”
“Don’t call me that, Volt.” I ordered. Volt grinned, then looked at my face. His smile turned to one of bewilderment, before he caught himself, and gave me a smirk.
“Oh? Was the big, bad Overdose worried about me?”
“You almost died. You’re lucky I got you here in time.” I hissed.
“Almost died.” Volt rolled his eyes. “Everyone almost died. We – you and me, ‘Dose – we’re always fine. We’re the ones to stare Death in the face, and watch him blink.”
“What are you going to do next time, Hmm? What if I wasn’t there to pick you up, and rush you here? The Arena sure as hell wouldn’t have saved you. You
look like hell, Volt. This is the third time this month, and I’m not going to keep doing this.”
“That’s rich, coming from you.” Volt hissed in turn.
“Excuse me?”
“At least I wear my pain on the outside, ‘Dose. Where’s yours, hmmm? I have broken bones, torn skin. Where is your pain, ‘Overdose’? Where do you store
all your hurt?”
If he was anyone else, I would have broken him right there.
“Listen.” I growled dangerously close to Volt. “You don’t know me. You don’t know my story, or my pain. You don’t know what I’ve gone through-”
“Don’t give me that emotional shit, ‘Dose. We’re not girls. I mean your insides, man.”
His explanation caught me off guard. “What?”
“Your insides, ‘Dose. Where do you think all that shit you put in yourself goes, man? It’s a devil’s deal. I only take one dose before my fights, and I only fight
like once or twice a week. You fight…damn. How much DO you fight?”
“Most nights, and I go a few rounds.” I admitted, shrugging casually.
Volt shook his head. “A few rounds. And you’re so nonchalant about it. Most only do one, maybe two a week. You go nearly every night, for multiple fights.
And I’ve seen them dose you. I only take one, you take like three!”
Five. I take five now.
“And,” He continued, “where do you think all that goes? I break limbs. I tear my skin. I bleed. Where is your pain? It’s on your insides, man. Your organs.
Your skin shows it. Show me a Raichu that color of gray. You’re not silver, ‘Dose. Your gray. People stop you and ask if your sick man, and that’s ‘cause
you are. But you got the kinda sick they can’t heal. You keep this up and you’re just gonna…” Volt shook his head, unsure of how to continue.
“Hah.” I scoffed. “So you’re lecturing me now. The one that almost died. The one who’s blood I washed out of my coat a week ago.”
“I’m just saying, man. I’m still yellow.”
“Raichu are naturally orange gray, you idiot. Just because I’m a bit more gray-”
“Raichu are DARK orange. Not orange gray, not even a hint of gray. And you’re more than a bit gray ‘Dose! You might as well be the color itself! You’re
sick, man. You’re sick.”
“I don’t need the drug idled mind of a lunatic making my life choices.” I rolled my eyes, and prepared to leave.
“Drug idled! That’s a bit hypocritical!” Volt shouted as I left the room. “Your namesake is DRUGS, ‘Overdose’!” Volt yelled into the hallway. “It’s not a joke anymore, it’s a warning. You take more than anyone else! One day you won’t be able to take it, and then you really will live up to your name!”
I ignored him, and kept walking.
---
As I walked down the hallway, I noticed myself continuing to check in the rooms. It was partially a nervous tick, and partially a habit due to all the time it took to find Volt’s room. After the third time I tried to stop myself, but after the seventh I stopped caring. Soon I would be back home, in the darkness that I knew as my closest friend. The sweet embrace of-
I stopped suddenly, and backpedalled. The person in the room I just inadvertently peeked into sparked some ancient memory in the back of my mind…
…mixed with a not-so ancient memory of last night.
I took a step back, and looked through the window once more. My eyes didn’t deceive me; Snivel was sleeping soundly on a bed inside the room.
I killed you. You can’t swim. Even if you could, I broke your ribs and your arms. Maybe not your skull, but if I didn’t I came damn close. How the hell are you alive?
I quickly searched the room to make sure he was alone. To my surprise, he was. No one sat guarding him, and no nurse or doctor waited on him. Perfect. People couldn’t get wind that he survived, of course. It would ruin my reputation. And, on a more personal note, Snivel put me into this mess.
Then shouldn’t I be thanking him? I love the Arena, after all. It’s cruelty is what I am.
The thought crossed my mind expectantly. No, I wouldn’t thank him. The Arena was what I loved, yet it was a bittersweet thing. It stirred inside me like a temptress, hurting me and loving me with every movement. Yes, there was more love then loathing, but he still needed to pay for the pain he forced upon me.
But I won’t make it theatrical like yesterday. He’s sleeping. I sneak in, break his neck, walk out. Painless.
Nodding at my plan, I placed a paw on the doorknob, twisting it silently as to not disturb him.
Pain erupted in my temple, throwing the entire world into disarray. Colors swirled around me, and the shapes I had known became meaningless spinning colors. I tried to catch myself, but the smooth floor provided no traction, and I slid gracelessly across the turquoise tiles.
I blinked in rapid succession. The walls blurred, but they appeared. Quickly the world came back into focus, and I sprang up on my feet in one swift motion. What attacked me!?
It was silver. Not a punch or a kick either – it was far too precise. All the pressure of the blow was directed to a single point on my head, not diffused as if it was by a punch or kick. I growled to myself. I didn’t like getting into fights dry. Now I fought with doses. Fighting without my usual substance made me feel lethargic and hollow.
I looked up. A human stood a few yards away, wielding some kind of crude metallic rod, with an odd blunted head. The human stood tall, perhaps six feet in height. He was male and light skinned, with fierce orange hair. He was a trainer, and had multiple Pokéballs strapped to a belt that was nearly hidden by a red jacket. He looked unwell. His eyes looked dark, and they looked at me with an intensity I knew far too well.
I twisted my tail and smashed it against the floor, denting it, and sending a spray of sparks into the air. <To what do I owe the pleasure, human?>
<Cut the shit, Overdose. Why are you here?>
<To see a friend.> I almost laughed. That might have been the first true thing I had said since I had awoken this morning, yet it still came out as a lie, and a threat at that.
<Static is no friend of yours.> The Trainer positioned the metal rod at a threatening angle.
<Static?> I questioned. <Oh, you mean the Pikachu resting in that room? I should have pictured Snivel would have picked up a new name by now. You’re his
trainer then, I presume?>
<You presume correctly.> The Trainer hissed. I began circling him slowly, sizing him up.
<And you swam all that way to rescue your Pikachu, hmmm? You must be very dedicated…and very tired…> I trailed off, letting the implications imply themselves.
<I’m going to give you two options.> He spoke harshly.
<Oh? Do tell.>
<You can surrender. Go and have one of the nurses restrain you to the beds. They’ll heal you to the best of their ability, but afterwards, you’ll have to pay for the crimes you’ve committed.>
<That doesn’t sound too appealing.> I smirked. <What’s my other option?>
<That, or I kill you.> The trainer gripped his weapon with both hands. I sneered.
<You assume you could kill me?> I laughed openly. <Tell me, how would you do it, hmmm? You already got one shot on me, and for that I commend you.>
I grinned. <But now that you don’t have surprise on your side, how will you do it?>
The trainer faltered.
<Exactly. Even if you were a match for me, you don’t have the eyes of a killer. Even if you were more than a match for me, you couldn’t do it.> I taunted.
<I’m not in the best frame of mind, and you are directly responsible for putting my best friend in the emergency room, with the intent to kill him. Making the
assumption that I couldn’t kill you right now is a dangerous gamble.> He retorted.
<Your pathetic species couldn’t fight off a normal Raichu, let alone one bred and trained to kill. Don’t worry though.> I cooed. <I won’t kill you. Too much attention. But I will electrocute you strong enough to give you minor brain damage, and knock you out awhile. While you’re out, I’ll kill your Pikachu, and no one will be the wiser. Except you, and you’ll be half-brain-dead, and the nurse, which we already have under control.>
<Then all that’s standing in your way is me.> He snarled, positioning his metal stick between us.
<You’ve already lost, idiot.> I smirked condescendingly, and raised my tail, lightly brushing the top of the metal pole the trainer was holding. <Goodnight.>
I grinned, waiting for the instantaneous transfer of over ten thousand volts of electricity to rush into the trainer’s body. He convulsed once, jolting backwards, before darting forwards and smashing me with the rod again. I didn’t have time to question how he was still breathing before the third hit came, and rendered me blind and deaf to the world.
---
(Josh POV)
Eight dollars. That’s all my life was worth right now, a freaking eight dollars. Eight. In my sleep deprived state, I almost didn’t buy them.
Almost.
Eight dollar rubber gloves. I knew I needed them, just in case, but for eight dollars I almost turned it down. Who charges eight dollars for gloves?
Of course, if I had known they would have saved me from permanent brain damage and/or death, I would have paid the cashier gladly. Maybe I would have even tipped.
Overdose laid against the wall, bleeding red ooze onto the floor below. I leaned against the same wall I had punched a hole into this morning, and panted. I could have just died. I could have become a vegetable, or at best, a shadow of whom I once was. I owed my life to a pair of overpriced gloves. Freaking eight dollar gloves.
Hell…
Overdose took a breath. I raised my golf-club to finish the job…
…but lowered it. I wasn’t a killer, he was right. Maybe in the heat of the moment, if Static’s life were truly in danger, but even then it would have rotted against my consciousness for the rest of my days. No. I would get the nurses help to restrain him. They could heal him if they wished, just as long as he stayed put.
I looked him over more closely. He was out cold. It would be easy work putting him in a bed, and checking his vitals.
I turned to put away my gloves, and saw a horrified nurse standing behind me. Her face was completely pale, and her entire body was shaking. She was not the nurse from before.
I realized how I looked. I was standing over an unconscious, possibly dead Pokémon with a bloody club raised above my head, in a striking motion. I probably looked like a lunatic.
“Heeeey…” I whispered calmly, setting down my club. “Alright, give me a second to explain-”
There are two, very different screams a human can produce. One is common. It’s either a yell, or a shout. Both are meant to get attention, but neither are as good as it as the second type of scream. The second type is hard to summon, if you’re trying to fake it. It’s an animalistic cry for help that is reserved only for the most dire circumstances. It’s the sound of someone being torn apart, or being attacked in the worst possible way.
Her scream was the second kind. It sent shivers down my spine and she screamed and raced off in the other direction as fast as she could.
Well. That could have gone better.
I looked down at the unconscious Raichu, and back to my bloody golf-club.
This doesn’t look incriminating at all.
Within seconds, thundering sound of heavy footsteps filled the hallway. Officers of all types stormed inside, each carrying a heavy looking gun, and body armor.
How’d they get up here so fast?
“Freeze, and drop your weapon!” One of the ones in the back shouted into a microphone.
Why was I still holding this?
“Sure, um, yeah. I surrender.” I mumbled, and dropped the golf-club. The guards looked a bit confused at my gesture. I grinned sheepishly, and held my arms at the appropriate angle for them to cuff me.
One of the younger officers walked hesitantly up to me, and cuffed me. I didn’t resist. She looked inquisitively at me, and I grinned shyly.
“Are you alright in the head?”
“No.” I confessed. “I’m probably in shock.”
She looked inquisitively at me. “Are you dangerous?”
I thought for a moment. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “I’m going to take you to the station, alright?”
“Sure, but can you wait a moment? I think I’m going to throw up first.”
She winced. “Alright.”
I took a step back and vomited, then vomited again, slipped in it, vomited once more, then fainted. |
(Myst POV)
I took a deep breath of the dank, cellar air. Home. The shadows; finally a place where I felt I belonged. I no longer was black fox standing in a sea of white, no. Now, I was with company. I could blend in, and be whomever my I pleased. I would fit in, for once in a painfully long time.
What would be my mask today? Who would I wear as my disguise, and whose part should I act?
A Weavile. He – for this character would be a male – is an accomplice from a faraway land. He heard about this arena from a ‘mutual friend’, and wanted to see it in action. He had some cash on him, so he might place a bet or two. His REAL reason for visiting however, was much darker…
I took a deep breath, and got into character. My mirage instantly swirled around me, and mimicked a Weavile climbing down the ladder with ease, while I on the other hand had a much harder time. With only four legs and no real hands, this was proving both a slow and dangerous task. Also, the ladder tasted disgusting.
Finally, I reached the bottom, and strolled into the lights of the Arena. It looked very much like Nova had described. Two large circles wrapped around the sides. The inner circle housed the true arena, where a Gengar and a Larvitar fought for supremacy. In the outer, a large crowd sat in makeshift seats, cheering on the bloody conflict. In the back, a small metal door housed secrets. I didn’t see the Blissy at first, and made a quick and reasonable assumption that she was hidden behind those doors, along with many other secrets…
Urk! Pay attention. You’re only objective here is Blissy. Ignore the other treasures, and focus on her.
I casually walked to the back, aware of the two Sableye guarding the door. They turned to me and gave me a strange, alien look.
“Greetings.” My illusion bowed, and I adopted a lower, more masculine tone.
“Greetings.” The pair said in unison. “Enjoying the show?”
“Alas, my curiosity has gotten the best of me. My…friends tell me the Arena has the best entertainment in the area, yet I find myself drawn to this door
instead. Might you sate my wonder?”
The gems on the Sableye sparkled. “You see. Not many do. The door is hidden to all but those that see. To them it appears as stone.”
Shit. I didn’t even realize this door was guarded by an illusion! Play this off!
“I’ve learned many talents in my life. One is seeing though falsehood.” My illusion smirked, while I sat quietly within. It occurred to me that they might be able to see me as well. Even so, a Zorua here wouldn’t be a cause of alarm. As much as I loathed admitting, most Pokémon here were dark, poison, and ghost
types. Not all of course, but enough to make me grind my teeth.
“Seeing though falsehood is an…interesting talent to have, sir…?”
“Sunbane.” I responded.
Sunbane!? Could you BE more obvious?
“Sir Sunbane, yes.” The two Sableye looked at each other, as if communicating without words. Their syncrasy unnerved me, and made me wonder if they were two or one creature. “You wish to uncover mysteries, yes. That is a dangerous way to live, for not all mysteries reveal themselves so easily…what shall you do to earn your entrance to this passage?”
“There are several at my disposal, of course.” I purred, as my mind raced. What would they want? “I have gold, of course-”
“Gold!” They scoffed.
“-but yes, the Sableye have little need for trinkets.” I finished. They eyed me with interest, or at least LOOKED like they were eyeing me with interest. With Sableye it’s always hard to tell. “Of course, with gold you could buy gems.”
“With enough.” One of them shrugged. The other looked horrified that he had spoken out of turn, and swiped at the other. The other took the blow without complaint, and shook his head. They resumed their mutual tones. “But it is easier to find them ourselves. What you call gems, we call bread. Gems have no more value than a simple loaf to us.”
“Well. Perhaps you are less materialistic. Perhaps you crave what I crave; not gold or food, but information.”
Their eyes twinkled again. Perfect.
“You think you have secrets to sate the wonderlust of a Sableye? We are timeless, and eternal. We know all that roams this earth. You think you have some
knowledge that we do not possess?”
“Information I alone hold. It would not be possible for you to possess, unless I were to tell you.”
They looked at each other, and I could feel curiosity against my own.
“The price of this information, sir Sunbane?”
“Entrance to this door.”
“First your secret, then the door.”
I smirked. “As a fellow creature of the night, I think it foolish to reveal my goods before you should reveal yours. Too long have I been victim of a five finger bargain, when I dealt in good faith.”
Their eyes sparkled once more. “You know the Sableye well, Weavile. Very well. I acc-” They both shook their heads once more, and looked sickened. “-we accept this offer.”
“What ails you two?” I asked, out of my own stupid curiosity. They smirked in sync, and their gemstone eyes gleamed a fearsome red as they began opening
the large steel door.
“You haven’t paid for that information, sir Sunbane…” They sneered.
“Very well.” I peeked up, and looked around the newly discovered room. It held several cages, but only one was filled as of now, with a surprised but spitefully looking Blissy. The rest of the room –well, cave really—only held small metal cooling containers, which I presumed to be the drug Static was talking about earlier.
“We have paid in full, and expect compensation.” The Sableye responded, now looking more menacing with the dim light of a dying bulb highlighting their dark, elongated claws.
“Alas friends, there is yet one more price you must pay before the information is yours.” I grinned to myself.
“What?”
“Catch me!”
To an untrained eye, the Weavile suddenly dashed off away from the arena. The Sableye howled and tore after it, slowly gaining on the unfortunate fellow. The chase would last a minute or two.
I, however, was beside the cage, mimicking the cool cave air. I walked calmly to the Blissy’s cage, as she stared though me at the commotion beyond the door. She looked up again, then dove behind her bedding, and fetched a small, crude metal device. I watched wordlessly as she shoved the metal piece into the lock, and began tinkering with it carefully.
“My dear.” I spoke, though I appeared as nothing. “Whomever gave you that lock pick would be startled to see you handling it with such carelessness.” The Blissy almost dropped the lock pick out of shock, then shoved it quickly in her pouch.
“Who’s there!?” She demanded, backing away from the cage.
“A friend.” I closed the metal doors, and revealed myself. “Up for a hoist?”
She grinned, and her eyes grew large. “You’re gonna break me out of here?”
“Break.” I frowned. “Why must everything be so destructive with you? Aren’t you a healer?”
She looked down awkwardly.
“Here.” I held out my paw. “Give me the lock pick.”
She placed the lock pick hesitantly in my hands. She had no reason to trust me of course, which made the gesture all the more symbolic. I could have betrayed her right here, of course. Told the guards of her treachery. I could have worked here, and have come to take the lock pick.
Alas, I was on her side, and upon grabbing the lock pick, I inserted it gently into the lock.
“Why are you going at it so slowly?” She hissed quietly. I smirked at her unease.
“What is your name?” I prodded, though I already knew the answer.
“Charity. Why?”
“Charity. Humans have a myth that there exists but one person that you should call their love. This person would always be faithful to you, and would treat
you better than any other on the planet. They call this person your soul mate.”
“…Okay? Why is that relevant?”
“Because…” I smiled as the pick began to work. “Humans fashion their tools in a similar manner. Only one key in the world was built for this lock, and for only one lock the key.”
“Then break it?” She suggested.
I peeked up from the lock. “Would you say that to a lover?”
“What?”
I resumed my lock-picking. “When a lock breaks, it often shuts to all keys, even the one meant for it. What my job is, is not to damage the lock at all. Simply mimic the key that it was meant for. Caress it. Convince it that I indeed am its key, and then?” The lock popped open.
“Then?” Charity didn’t escape instantly, and instead waited for me to finish my tale.
“I don’t know.” I admitted. “Perchance leave, the lock never knowing you weren’t it’s key after all. Perhaps stay, and fashion yourself its key anyway.”
“Wouldn’t that leave the world with a lonely key?”
“We’re all lonely keys. Get your lock while you can.” I grinned, and motioned for her to escape. She nodded, and clumsily waddled out of the cage. Very clumsily. Troublingly clumsily.
“Are you alright?” I asked, hesitant for the answer.
Charity blushed and laughed lightly. “Um, I’m expecting.”
“Oh? Congratulations!”
She smiled. “Haha, don’t be too surprised. Us Chansey and Blissey are a bit different than other Pokémon. We lay eggs all the time, but they’re not meant as incubators. Well…” She blushed again. “MOST of them aren’t. They’re more like stones, really. Nothing lives inside them, but those that hold onto them and that have love in their hearts find a bit more luck along their path than usual.”
“Really?”
“Mmmm.” She nodded. “Legend says that the first Togepi actually hatched from our fatherless eggs, but only for one pure of heart. I don’t believe it though.” She rubbed her stomach happily. “I think they’re just little bits of luck for us to give back to the world.”
“Touching.” I smiled.
“Do you have a plan for our escape?” She asked calmly. “Perhaps become invisible once more? Can you do that to me as well?”
“Well, I wanted something a bit more theatrical, but I suppose that will have to do.” I smirked. “You won’t see my illusion, but everyone else will. Even if they stare right at you, into your very eyes, they will not see you. They can FEEL you though, so make sure not to touch anyone, alright?”
“Got it.”
Together, we sneaked though the door. To my dismay, the entrance was much more crowded now, and it would be nearly impossible to walk though undetected.
Like all places though, there was more than one exit.
I glanced at the open ocean. Nova said it was a long fall; from here I estimated about 27 feet. Nearly three stories. I took a step back from the ledge, impressed by Nova’s fortitude. With no other evident escape, I thought about Nova’s hurried but effective solution.
“Psssst.” I whispered to Charity. “How well can you swim?”
“Swim?” She snorted. “Does it look like I can swim?”
I looked her over again, and noticed her rather pudgy frame. Her tiny arms and feet didn’t look particularly adept at long distance swimming.
Damn.
“I can FLOAT really well though!” She giggled. “There’s a story of a man who tried to drown a Blissy. After three days he gave up!” She snorted again. “I can’t swim, but I’ll die from dehydration before I’ll drown.”
I can work with that. Might be a touch awkward, but I could paddle ON her. Save me energy, and get us both to shore. I’ll be faster than Nova too, since I know the way.
“Alright. On three, we’re jumping down there. I want you to stand like a-” I looked at her frame once more, and choose to ignore the diving tips. “…nevermind. On three, we’re jumping into the water.”
“WHAT!?” She hissed in an angry whisper. “Are you INSANE?”
“One.” I prepared to jump.
“I am not going to jump!”
“Two…” I smirked, choosing not to hear her pleas.
“No! Augh, I don’t even know your NAME! I am NOT jumping who-knows-how-many-feet-”
“Three!” I leapt.
“…Damn it!” I heard behind me.
Hah.
My snout stung when it hit the water, despite my perfect dive. The cool ocean reinvigorated me, and I quickly swam up to the surface. When I got there, I was greeted by a very angry and wet Blissy.
“Wow.” I whistled quietly. “You got to the surface faster than me.”
“I didn’t go under!” She hissed. I saw her backside, which was completely red.
“Ouch. You didn’t dive, did you?” I winced.
“Dive? Dive? Oh, if only I had thought of THAT. Because of my extremely aerodynamic frame and all!”
I stifled a laugh. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
“I CAN’T SWIM!” Charity growled, flailing and kicking at the sky.
“I remember.” I grinned. I sunk slightly under water, then kicked suddenly, pouncing on her stomach.
“Ack! What are you doing!?” She squealed. She rotated wildly, causing me to almost fall to onside, then the other.
“Trying to- oof!” I caught a mouthful of fist as she flailed. “Trying to…swim…with you!” I growled back. “Stop struggling!”
She tried to calm down, and I adjusted myself across her vertically. I pressed my back paws in the water, and started an efficient paddle to shore. I though balancing on her would prove more of a challenge, but one grotesque fact helped our little venture. I was sinking INTO her. She was almost completely made of fat.
‘I bet that’s why she floats so well…’ I grimaced to myself as I sunk entirely too deep into her frame. I glanced up at the cliff face once more, and was pleased to see our bit of splashing hadn’t caught the attention of anyone. My illusions had done their work…
---
The shore. It seemed like days, but at last it was there. With a few more kicks, I propelled us to the shore, panting with exertion.
“Are you alright?” Charity looked down at me with concern.
“You have no idea...” I wheezed, “How BIG you are!”
Charity’s look of concern melted into one of offense. “Hey! You try giving birth every few months, and keeping your figure!”
“At least do some pushups.” I implored, and slowly struggled to my feet. I heard a ‘hmph’ behind me.
“It’s not my fault I lay eggs.” She grumbled to herself. “I like the ‘giving people luck’ part, but honestly, it’s terrible sometimes.”
“Oh?”
“Well for one, it makes me LOOK like an egg.” She growled as we walked. “And giving birth nearly six times a year isn’t pleasant either. But that isn’t the worst part.”
“What is?”
She looked at the floor, and glowered. “Whenever I laugh I pee a little.”
I looked at her with disbelief, before swallowing my witty remark at her expense. At last, we arrived to the Pokémon Center. The Nurse was standing by the
entrance, and ran to hug Charity as soon as she came into view.
“Charity!” She yelped, and grabbed her tightly in her arms.
“Astrid!” Charity yelped in return, and grasped the nurse with her tiny paws.
“Are you alright? Did they hurt you?” The nurse kneeled down and pressed her fingers to her paw, feeling for a pulse. Charity pushed her hand away and smiled.
“No, no, I’m fine. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine if you are.” The nurse pulled Charity in another tight, fierce hug. “Oh, I’m just so glad you’re alright!”
“Excuse me.” I prodded at the nurse’s ankles with my paw. “Um, do you know where my trainer is?”
“Ummm…” The nurse hesitated, “Funny story about that, actually…” |
(Josh POV)
What an insane day. My brain was spinning from the events that transpired. From the arrest, to waiting at the court, to the nurses explanation to the bailiff, it had been an eventful day. As of now, I was content to lay on the cot next to Static’s, and my mind relax after the stress of the past week.
Static snoozed quietly beside me, and I quietly stroked Myst with a subconscious hand. She purred lightly, but appeared somewhat uncomfortable with the closeness of the action. When I noticed this I pulled away, but she instinctively nipped at my fingers, and put her ears back under my hand. Reluctantly I continued, rolling my eyes at her indecision.
She was pleased with herself, of course. Well-deserved. Along with the nurse, I had praised her on a risky job well done. It could have gone much worse, and for now, I was just pleased it hadn’t.
Skarr had also done his job well. He had guarded Static like a hawk until I returned from the hardware store. Although I felt a bit guilty for my slight manipulation, the job I gave him acted as a bit of a repentance for his former mistake. He was able to sleep after I relieved him of duty, and I waited quietly outside. I didn’t actually expect Overdose of course, but when he came, I was prepared.
Overdose was getting treatment now, but not in this facility. They had restrained him, but he had broken out and destroyed some very sensitive equipment, and severely wounded several doctors and nurses. It took nearly four times the normal dose of anesthetic to put him under, and several armed guards to do it. Afterwards, he was flown to a more secure mental facility with better restraints, and supposedly experience with the more difficult patients. Supposedly, he also wasn’t the only one.
The Arena was also swarmed by the police the next night. They caught dozens of Pokémon and humans, under charges of illegal gambling and several counts of assault and attempted murder. I was originally terrified that those that didn’t get arrested would be coming after us before Sandy politely reminded me that they had no idea who we were, and to the best of their knowledge ‘Snivel’ was dead.
Sandy, Nova, and Myst were all in in the hotel room, watching movies, and passing the time. They would check on us a few times a day of course, and we would talk, but they knew we needed our rest. Wiggly would hold Static’s paw while they talked, and hug him lightly when she thought no one was looking. Nova would scurry over to me, and tell me the summery of the last few movies they had seen, ‘so I wouldn’t miss out’. Sandy would sit on the side of my bed, and call me names, but they were meant with a kind heart, even if said with a sharp tongue. We laughed together, and made the most of our time spent recovering.
To my relief, the medical staff was making a full recovery in the careful hands of their peers. Our Battle Park ticket was extended, courtesy of the Battle Park Police Force. We were also apologized to profusely by the B.P.P.F., especially by the kind officer whom I spoke with before passing out. The nurse we helped – Astrid, I believe – also thanked us profusely for our help, and apologized for her earlier rude behavior. I half expected her Blissey to hand Myst a lucky egg for her troubles, but it appeared that Charity wasn’t too pleased by her methods of rescue. Oh well. No good comes from expecting rewards from kind actions, and I wasn’t disappointed. My team was safe, and with some time to rest, we would all be healthy again.
---
“Alright. Let’s get that cast of you, shall we?”
<What are you doing with that electric saw!?>
“Stop squirming, will you? Hold still, this will be over in a moment.”
<JOOOSH!> Static yelped as the saw’s blade moved closer to his neck.
<Relax, static. This doesn’t cut skin, it only cuts the cast. Promise.>
Static gulped, and his gaze didn’t break from the saw. <O-okay man, I t-trust you, b-but shit, are you sure!?…>
Astrid quickly cut the cast in half, smiling at Static’s hesitance. “There. All done. That wasn’t so bad now, right?”
Static sat motionless on the bed, breathing heavily, and looking petrified at the saw. He then looked back at me, and checked his fur to make sure it wasn’t cut.
<I can’t BELIEVE that didn’t kill me.> He sighed.
“Psssssh!” Nova hissed into his hand. <Josh finds your lack of faith disturbing!>
I rolled my eyes at Nova’s reference.
“Okay. Now, we need to be gentle here.” The nurse stressed. “Even after the cast comes off, that doesn’t mean you’re okay. You still need to be gentle with yourself, and make sure you get plenty of rest, alright? NO battling for at least a week-”
“Oh come ON!” Static pouted.
“-Hey. I don’t want you coming back here, and making your poor friends sit in their rooms all day, all right?” Astrid stated.
“We didn’t mind!” Nova chimed, then backpedaled. “O-or, I mean, I didn’t mind. Did you guys mind? Sorry, I didn’t mean to like-”
“We didn’t mind.” Myst assisted Nova.
“Nevertheless.” The nurse continued. “I want you to take it easy, alright? Promise me.”
“I promiiiiise…” Static grudgingly responded.
“Good. Okay, I’m going to remove your cast now. It might feel a bit strange at first-”
“Augh!” Skarr winced in the corner of the room. “What is that odor?”
“Ewwwww!” Nova covered his snout, and Myst shied away. I winced along with Sandy.
<Now now, that’s normal.> Astrid scolded telepathically. <He hasn’t been able to wash his stomach because of the cast!>
<Gross!> Static looked down, and saw his matted, brownish fur. <Ah, it looks all nasty! Will this get better!?>
<Oh yes. You just need to wash it out, and you’ll be right back to normal.> Astrid smiled.
<Okay, GOOD. I was worried I would end up like Overdose or something…> Static gulped.
<No, no, no. You only had minor traces of the drug in your system, and you’ve only taken it once. The side effects usually don’t take hold unless you’ve
taken a significantly higher amount of the substance.>
<Usually!?>
<I wouldn’t worry if I were you.> She gave Static another reassuring smile. <For now, I would focus on showering…you ARE a bit ripe…> Static winced,
and hopped out of bed. I cringed at his sudden motion, and he gave me a deadpan glare.
<I can still JUMP. Am I allowed to jump? Nurse lady, help me out here.>
<I would prefer no sudden movements for at least a few more days…> Astrid mumbled.
<Gawd! I don’t need to be babied here! I’m already not battling, what more do you guys want!?>
<We’re just trying to keep you safe, Stat.> I stated calmly, trying to sooth him down.
<Auuugh! Can I at least take shower alone? Or should I not risk injuring myself?> Static growled.
<You should be fine.> Astrid mentioned quickly.
<Thank you.> Static hissed, and walked out of the room, and towards the door.
<Just be careful!> Skarr chimed evilly. Static gave him a rude gesture with his paw as he walked back to the room.
---
(Static POV)
Useless.
The hot water poured over me, and soaked deep into my muscles, and washing off the filth and grime that had smeared into my coat. The water and steam
felt good, after having nothing but the touch of bedding on my body for days.
Useless.
Here we were, at the Battle Park. Josh’s dream. And I was completely ruining it! We should be battling!
We should be meeting people to battle, and learning about battle stuff, and watching people battle, and…
…and instead he’s sitting with me, waiting for me to heal. In a week, we’ll be gone, and back to Kanto. We won’t even be able to battle at the STUPID
BATTLE PARK!
I hit my head against the tile wall in frustration, with the steam bellowing around me. The water was missing me now, and all I had for warmth was the large
white cloud, and the water on my face.
Water on my face? Shit, am I CRYING?
I wiped my face angrily with a paw, and stepped back into the water.
Josh must be so bored. Him and everyone else.
I growled, and scrubbed my fur harder.
Ruining a once-in-a-lifetime-
“Augh!” I shouted, and threw the soap as hard as I could. I felt something tear across my side, and I instantly cringed and fell to the floor. The water pelted
me as I held my side, clenching my teeth in pain.
“Static!?” I heard Josh yelp from the other side of the door. I opened my mouth to respond, but my snout was pressing against the tub, which was filled with
a few inches of water. I gurgled something, but I doubt he heard me.
“STATIC!” He screamed once more. I tried to push myself up, but the pain in my side returned, and I slumped back. The door burst open, and I felt Josh’s
hands grasp me, and pull me out of the water. He rushed me to the bed, and placed me there gently but quickly, with a careful yet desperate efficiency. He stared at me for a moment, then breathed a sigh of relief.
<Oh good, you’re breathing.> He let out a tense chuckle. <I was gonna me pissed if I had to do mouth-to-mouth.>
I laughed a bit, but I held my side. He caught my action, and frowned. <I’m going to call the nurse.>
<Don’t!> I shouted, and pawed at his jacket. <I’m fine, really! Please? She’ll put me in a cast again, and then I won’t be able to battle with you!>
<Static, you’re not battling here anyway, you’ll hurt yourself. A week off, remember?> Josh scolded.
<Oh come on! T-this is the Battle Park! You talk about this place all the time, and now that you’re here we can’t do anything, and I’m just being useless and hurt and->
<Static.> Josh rested a calming hand on my head.
<-I’m keeping all you guys from doing anything fun, and you guys are just doing this because I’ve been though some stuff and I was a bit roughed up->
<Static! This isn’t your fault.> Josh said strongly, rubbing one of my ears. I was still upset, but that small motion made me forget exactly what I was mad about.
<Yeah, but…> I trailed off.
<But what? We’re your friends. We’re here to support you, no matter what. Even if you can’t battle, we can find other things to do. Heck, we’re at the Battle Park! At the very least, we can watch other people.>
<It’s not the same.> I sulked, sinking into the sheets.
<Well…hmmmm.> Josh thought. <Do YOU really miss battling?>
<I miss battling for you.>
<But do YOU miss battling?> He asked again.
<Um…I don’t know. I guess not. That stuff with Overdose kinda…I don’t know. I’m not feeling it right now, I guess. I’m sure I will, but…> I sighed.
<Okay. So you’re sad because you feel like you’re letting me down, and I can’t battle without you? Is that it?>
<…Yeah.> I nodded.
<Alright. Well, I have an idea then.> Josh winked, and stood up from the bed. <It’s going to take some convincing from Sandy though. And I’ll need your
help.> He smirked.
<What can I do, Josh?> I sat up, eager to help.
<First? We need to track down that nurse, and make sure you’re okay. Secondly…well, I’ll tell you after.>
<Josh! No, you’ll tell me now. Josh? Josh!> I whined impatiently.
---
<Sandy! Sandy, Sandy, Sandy!>
<Someone’s awake.> She giggled, walking into the room.
<Sandy!> I yelped again, making sure to get her attention. <Josh wants to tell you something!>
<I do?> Josh asked.
<Yes! You do! The thing, remember! The thing you needed her help for after we got the cast from the nurse, but you wouldn’t tell me!>
<Oh that.> Josh grinned, and I had the feeling he knew what I was talking about from the very beginning.
<Tell her!> I begged.
<Alright, alright. I was wondering if you could do me a favor.> Josh turned to Sandy.
<Oh? What?>
<I was hoping to challenge a Frontier Brain while I was here, and I was wondering if you could loan->
<Palmer!> Sandy smashed her hand to her face. <Oh shit, I have a battle with him soon!>
<Um, what?> Josh looked concerned.
<Sorry, you just reminded me of that with the ‘rental Pokémon’ thing! Argh, I completely forgot about it! I should have been reviewing my notes…!> Sandy
pressed her hand to her head again.
<Calm down a sec.> Josh placed his hand on hers, and pulled it away from her face. <What do you need to do to prepare?>
<J-just review videos of him battling other brains, and see what tactics I can use against him. Against normal people he’s simple, but he’ll pull all the stops against me. This battle’s going to be televised too, and if I lose I won’t hear the end of it for weeks.> She groaned.
<Well, how about this.> Josh perked up. <How about we all help you study a bit today and tonight?>
<That would be great, but…> Sandy sighed. <I don’t know. I think I work best alone, for the most part. Tonight would be fine, but I really need to get into my top game over the next few days to fight Palmer. I’m sorry, I thought we would only be here a week…> She trailed off.
<It’s fine, we understand.> Josh nodded. <Could we borrow some Pokemon from the Battle Factory though? Rentals of course, just->
<Yeah, yeah, sure.> Sandy waved off the question. <I take them all the time. That’s how I got Krookodile and Charizard.>
<Awesome, thanks.> Josh smiled. <Alright, so we’ll help you tonight, then we’ll be off tomorrow. Sound good?>
<Mmmm.> Sandy nodded. <Yeah. Alright. Is everything good here? You guys are checked out, Static’s alright?>
<Yup. He got a bit of a restraint for his side->
<Meh.> I interjected.
<-he doesn’t like it, but it works.> Josh added. <So yeah, we’re good.>
<Alright then.> Sandy looked up, and shot us both a smile. <So, my place, then?>
---
(Josh POV)
My jaw hit the floor as soon as we reached Sandy’s floor. Her apartment was incredible. An entire wall was dedicated to a massive window, which looked
out over the city, and across the ocean. All the furniture was sleek and modern, with smooth, curved edges. Another wall was a large white wall, which I
quickly realized was meant for the projector.
Other than the fancy glass and furniture, the place looked a bit…empty. Almost as if it wasn’t lived in, and if everything was more for a theatre set then
actually living. Nothing was out of place, and everything was meticulously clean. Not at all like the cabin.
Not to say the cabin was disorganized, however. It just more…alive. Her bed wasn’t made, there were pictures of her and Wigglytuff on the walls, and some dishes were in the sink. It looked cozy. This didn’t look as cozy, and gave off a cool, almost hollow feel. Though it looked beautiful, this wasn’t a home.
Over the next few hours, we all helped quiz Sandy on the different techniques Palmer liked to utilize in battle. I learned that he frequently fought Baton Pass teams, and as a result used a Weavile with a move called ‘Beat Up’, which attacked multiple times in quick succession. Against her though, he wouldn’t likely use such tactics, and would likely fight much more unpredictably. We made her flash cards and tried to help, but by the end of the night it became apparent that we wouldn’t be much help.
<Thank you anyway, everyone.> Sandy smiled as the clock ticked dangerously close to midnight. <It’s been fun, but I definitely need some rest. Look for me on T.V. in a few days, alright?> She smirked.
<Will do!> Nova chimed.
<Of course.> Skarr bowed.
<Definitely!> Static nodded.
<Certainly.> Myst purred.
<I can still help, right?> Wiggly pouted.
<Of course.> Sandy smiled.
<Alright, we’ll be seeing you, then.> I smiled, and turned to leave.
<W-well, it’s late!> Sandy yelped. I turned and gave her a quizzical look, and she backpedaled in an attempt to save face. <I mean, I have a guest room, if
you would all like to sleep here for the night.>
I smirked. <Well, I doubt we would all fit on one bed->
<I have two.> She said quickly. <And one for Wiggly, of course.>
<Still, I doubt we would all fit on two->
“Then I GUESS one of you is going to have to sleep with me.” She hissed in my ear. “Preferably, the one most human.”
“Awww, but I thought you were tire-” Sandy flicked my nose. “Ouch! What was that for!?”
“You know what that was for.” She growled.
---
(Sandy POV)
“Bleh.”
I collapsed on my sofa, with a half-finished can of soda clutched haphazardly in my hand. It had been two days since Josh had been here, and coincidentally also two says since I last talked to a sentient creature. I grabbed a stained copy of my notes off my smudged glass table, from where I spilt my coffee from last night.
I looked over the paper, not really reading it, more just going over the motions. I wasn’t overly confident, or really even confident to begin with. In truth, I was just bored. I didn’t want to do this. Battles should be all gut, not statistics and math.
“Bleeeeeeeh…”
Still, it was important that I win this battle. Otherwise I wouldn’t just be mocked by Palmer, I would be on the news for weeks. Not only did I not want the publicity, I would like to be able to spent that time with Josh. Almost all the time I put aside was taken when Static was in the hospital – not that I’m upset about that, of course. It’s expected that he should spend time with Static when he was injured, and not with me.
…and leave me in the room with Nova all day, watching old movies…
“Aaaaaaaughhhh…” I groaned, and tried to clear my head. I loathed looking over my old notes at his battles, but I loathed not doing it more. Lack of
preparation was the quickest way to fall in a competitive battle such as this, yet…
I’d take the damn movies with the Charmeleon over this…
It was noon, and I had just woken up, and cracked my first energy drink. Instead of actually reading the notes, I flipped on the projector.
…Just five minutes And I’ll be watching the Battle Station. See, I’m still learning. This isn’t procrastination at all.
I slouched lower in the chair, and my stomach growled loudly. It could have been a complaint from my lack of breakfast, or a grievance from last night’s cheap pizza.
Why am I always out of food? Wait, no! I have a slice of pizza left from last night. Awww yeah.
I stumbled over to my refrigerator, and retrieved the last slice. I sat back down on my chair, and greedily consumed the last slice of the cold pizza. My stomach gurgled with contentment, and I wiped my greasy hands on my notes.
Cold pizza and energy drinks. Breakfast of champions.
I hiccupped from the soda, and slouched further into the sofa, content to left my mind drift for a few moments before I began ‘studying’ once more. To my surprise, Palmer was on the projector wall. I begrudgingly focused a bit more.
“…on your fight against Sandy, later this afternoon?” A reporter asked. Palmer smiled, and waved at the camera.
“She is a worthy opponent, but with my fan’s support, I’m sure we’ll have a rousing battle.”
‘The words of one who knows he’s going to lose.’ I smirked, sipping my soda.
“And what do you think of your other, possible combatant?” The reporter questioned.
Other contestant?
“Only time will tell,” He spoke wisely, “But from what I know, I don’t believe he has even finished the Elite Four. I don’t have high hopes that he will be much of a challenge.”
“Bold words!” The reporter smiled.
“We’ll see if they’re earned.” He smiled coyly.
Combatant? Did a trainer make it through his tower? I haven’t been watching television for a few days, which means this ‘trainer’ would have needed to beat
fifty trainers in the span of two days.
My sleep deprived, pizza addled brain slowly began to piece together the clues.
Also, what kind of trainer could beat the fifty trainers in the battle tower, yet not beat the Elite four?
I felt like I was on the cusp of some great discovery, with the answer only a pizza’s breath away.
If they had Pokémon that could beat the trainers, then they would have beaten…they would have beaten the Elite four.
I was so close!
Unless…unless…UNLESS THEY WERE RENTALS!
Ah-hah!
And they were borrowed from the Battle Factory!
I had it!
But who…Only I have access to that.
Oh yeah…
But wait…
Oh?
Josh…Josh made that casual comment about wanting to borrow the rental Pokémon.
He didn’t.
If he had the right Pokémon, and the right items, he’s probably smart enough…Auuugh, now I have to call him.
I reached for my phone on the glass table, accidentally knocking it to the floor.
Auuuughhhhh… |
(Josh POV)
“KNOCKOUT!”
<Heeeellllll yeah!> Static shouted, hopping on my shoulder. I high fived him, and smiled at my Terrakion. Well, the rental Terrakion, of course. Borrowed with permission from Sandy’s Battle Factory.
The Terrakion snorted with triumph, and looked expectantly at his Pokéball. With a quick shimmer of light he was back inside, and ready for another brawl.
<That’s fifty!> Static chimed. <Now we can battle Palmer!>
<See?>I nudged my Pikachu with my head. <I told you this would be fun!>
<…Alright, fine, this was fun.> Static rolled his eyes. <Now we battle Palmer, right?>
<Yup! Let’s get the team out first, though. Then we’ll head downstairs and->
<Enough talking! I wanna tell them we won!> Static yelped excitedly. I smirked, and sent out our team.
---
<So why are we doing this again?> Nova asked, with an air of hesitancy around his voice.
<What do you mean?>I asked.
<Well…> Nova rung his hands, trying to formulate his thoughts. <What is our goal, here? Is this just for sport? Just because we can? Just because we’re here at the Battle Park?>
I thought for a moment. <Well, yes. Beating a brain is a respectable victory. I don’t think I can name a trainer that’s beaten a brain before beating the Elite four.>
<Right.> Nova swallowed again. <But…isn’t that kind of Sandy’s fear?>
<Hmmm?>
<Think of it this way.> Nova articulated, <Sandy doesn’t like being famous, right? That’s one of the reasons she didn’t tell us that she was actually Alessandria. She likes you for you are as a person, of course, but also because she doesn’t feel like you’re pressuring her to be someone she’s not.> Nova looked up at me for confirmation, and I gave him a nod. <Alright. So, and I’m not saying she doesn’t like being in the spotlight, but it’s reasonable to assume that she doesn’t like it all the time. She comes to Kanto to escape all of that, and she’s not widely recognized. But!> Nova paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. <If you become famous by beating Palmer, then you will be put in the spotlight. She will get attention for being with you, and then you both will be in the spotlight, her included, even if she doesn’t want to be.>
I stopped for a moment, and pressed my tongue against my cheek. He had a point. If I were to go through with this, and I won, Sandy and I may have even less time to spend together. Suddenly I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go thought with this. What was I trying to achieve?
I suppose my thought process didn’t go much farther than amusing Static, and trying to get the next big, shiny-
<What if you didn’t win?> Myst smirked, interrupting my thoughts.
<Eh. Even losing now would probably draw attention.> I waved off her comment.
<No, no, no, you misunderstand.> Myst gazed up at me with her hypnotizing red eyes. <What if you didn’t win? What if someone else won? You wouldn’t lose, you simply
wouldn’t be the one competing.>
<…Explain?> I asked.
<What would you like to be?> Myst grinned. <Black? Tan? Brown-haired? Personally, I always believed you would look good with black hair.>
I beamed, suddenly understanding. <You want to disguise me!>
<Great idea, Myst!> Nova grinned.
<There is no one better at disguises then me, my liege.> Myst purred.
<And if I was under your illusion, I would still be the one to claim the victory.> I considered. <Very nice plan.>
<And what shall your guise be then, Josh?> Skarr pondered.
<Something unrecognizable.> I responded. <It shouldn’t just be me with a few scars, or like black hair. It should be something…> I trailed off.
<Grander.> Skarr finished.
<It should be unique.> Myst nodded.
<It should be something people talk about!> Nova chimed.
<I think I have an idea.> I smirked. <But, it might be difficult to pull off. Let me talk to Myst for a moment, and see if this is feasible…>
---
(Sandy POV)
<He’s an asshole.>
<It’s sure damn annoying.>
<When he calls you again, just don’t pick up. Just don’t do it. See how he likes it.>
Wigglytuff sat across the couch from me, looking equally lethargic and disgruntled. Josh hadn’t picked up any of my last calls, and I was getting increasingly frustrated.
<That won’t solve anything…> I sighed. <I actually DO want to talk to him. See what the heck is up, and if he is the one that’s fighting Palmer.>
<I doubt it.> Wigglytuff looked down, and rubbed her belly. <I’m hungry.>
<I knooooowwwwwww.> I moaned. <You’re always hungry!>
<Because you don’t ever have food!>
<I have food sometimes!>
<Leftovers don’t count!>
<You can eat leftovers! Leftovers are food!>
<Leftovers are NOT food! Food is stuff you get at the store->
<Shush! The battle’s about to start!>
<But Saaandy! I’m hungr->
<Shush!>
“Sandy, our next contestant and Frontier Brain will now be facing Palmer, a fellow Frontier Brain in a battle of wits, cunning, and power!” The announcer cheered, shaking the small auditorium. I turned down the volume slightly, and shot Wiggly a worried look.
<The hell? I’m not on till five. Right?> I looked at Wiggly for confirmation. <Right?> She shrugged. I looked at the clock, which read 2:03pm.
“Presenting, Sandy, the Froneer Brai-hhhrm” Abruptly, the announcer coughed roughly, interrupting his speech. He doubled over and held his throat giving way to extremely raspy, harsh sounding coughs. Both Wiggly and I were on the edge of our seats, looking perturbed and worried at the announcer. He continued coughing violently and fell to the floor, with small specks of black flying from his lips, and landing on the floor below. The man shuddered on the floor clutching his stomach as a small pool of black ooze dribbled out of his mouth. His eyes shut closed harshly at first, then relaxed as he slipped into unconsciousness.
Wiggly and I looked at each other, then resumed looking at the projection. Someone in the audience screamed. The auditorium shook slightly, though from the camera or from actual shaking I didn’t know. The lights dimmed significantly, until it was difficult to discern anything on the screen. Suddenly, a low and mysterious voice echoed though the stage.
“There have been rumors though the night, that mortals no longer fear the darkness.” A voice rumbled. The camera panned to the audience, who were all looking horrified. Some tried to run out of the emergency exits. “They tell me that you believe you can hide away, and find safety with the falseness that is your...light.” The screen showed the announcer on the floor, and the small black pool at his lips. Slowly, the black pool began to bubble. “There are those that say that darkness can be defeated…”
“What do you want!?” A woman screamed in the audience. It was a scream of someone who was crazed with fear. The bubbling stopped, and an eerie silence filled the darkened auditorium.
“What do I want?” The voice pondered. “I want…I want to show you the extent of the shadows. There is one by the name of Palmer here, one who is renowned for his battling prowess. I wish to meet this man, and dual him. I wish to prove even he is no match for the dark.”
“N-no one battles Palmer without the sufficient forms!” A receptionist yelled from the back. “Fifty trainers, all in a row! No exceptions!”
“This will suffice.” The voice returned, and mystically, a stack of papers materialized in the air. The receptionist hesitantly walked forward and grabbed the papers, and looked enough them carefully. After a moment, her face grew pale.
“This…this is all in order.” She shivered. “Who…who are you?”
The black puddle began to bubble once more, and slowly, a figure began to rise out of the tar, forming legs, a torso, arms, broad shoulders, and face with glowing red eyes, and spiky hair. The entire being was the same color as the pool; dark and devoid of colors.
“I am the being that will remind you of what the night truly is.” The creature smiled with hauntingly white teeth. “You may address me as Nightshade. Now, bring me this…‘Palmer’.”
After a few moments, Palmer stepped forwards. He stood tall, and wore a light green jacket over a smooth, clean white shirt. His blond hair was slicked back, and he had a determined look on his face, unlike most who were petrified with fear.
“You wanted to face me, aberration?” Palmer glared, a Pokéball fiercely grasped in one hand.
“I do. I want the standard Battle Tower rule set; a three on three battle.” Nightshade smirked, the dim lights reflecting off his pitch black skin.
“What are the stakes?” Palmer looked at the creature with concerned eyes.
“Your SOUL!” The creature shrieked, feinting a diving at Palmer. Palmer jumped back in fright, but the aberration never truly moved. “Or the certificate of victory for the Battle Tower. Either one.”
Palmer took a shaky breath. “And if I should win?”
The creature scoffed. “If you should defeat the darkness itself, I shall disappear forever, and never again shall a human again hear an utterance of the name ‘Nightshade’.”
“…Deal.” Palmer nodded. “Are you ready then?”
“The Darkness is always ready.” Nightshade smiled.
<Duuude what the heeeelllllll?> Wiggly grinned, looking at me with wide, excited cyan eyes.
<I don’t know!> I laughed nervously, content to see how this battle would unfold.
---
(Josh POV)
“Go, Weavile!”
“Arise, one who has abandoned your soul to a shell, and has been birthed anew.”
A Ninjask and a Weavile faced off, each eyeing each other with a practiced caution. I smiled as the shadows melded into nothingness at my fingertips. Myst had truly outdone herself with this guise, and everything was falling into place perfectly. Even the announcer had played his part perfectly – collapsing, and allowing Myst’s illusion to play their role. I made a mental note to thank him later.
But not now. Now, I must focus. First, the painfully, insultingly obvious.
“Weavile, use Fake out!” Palmer shouted.
“Ninjask, Protect!”
The Weavile jumped up, and swung her paw at the flying bug. A silver sheen swept across the Ninjask, and it narrowly deflected the blow.
Now, the game begins.
“Nightshade…” Palmer’s eyes shone suddenly. “…for one born of the night, you make an…odd choice of moves.”
Take the bait, fishy-fish…
“I make the move that I deem necessary.” I quipped.
“You make a move that may have already cost you the battle.” He smiled.
It’s right in front of you Palmer. See the bait, just not the hook…
“Weavile.” He smirked. “Use Beat Up.”
Oh, clever move! One would normally use substitute, but a move like Beat Up hits multiple times, rendering Substitute not only useless, but lethal. In a normal battle, that would have rendered one out of my three Pokémon defeated.
…But this isn’t a normal battle, is it Palmer?
“Return, Ninjask! Terrakion, I summon thee!”
“Terra-, wait, what!?” Palmer shook his head.
“Weava!” Weavile shouted obediently, now attacking her new opponent. A Terrakion appeared out of the familiar red glow, wielding a light blue scarf tied around one horn.
Terrakion instantly received a rain of blows, all cloaked in a dark energy. Only upon the third successful strike did Terrakion manage to throw off the Weavile.
The Terrakion looked well for one that had taken so many blows. In fact, it looked stronger than it once had. Righteous anger burned in its eyes; a memory of a battle long ago. A hard snort erupted from its snout and it smashed a hoof into the ground, hot blooded and ready for battle.
Meanwhile, Palmer’s face grew pale.
“Justified.” Palmer sighed, and slumped slightly. “For every dark type move made against Terrakion, Terrakion becomes more powerful. And since Beat Up hits more than once, you just achieved the equivalent of three Dragon Dances in terms of attack.” He stopped to catch his breath. “You…you turned my strategy against me. You are no ordinary trainer…”
I smirked, but said nothing.
“Setting up to destroy my entire team with one Pokémon is risky…” His cool, calculating eyes burned into my own. “Was the Ninjask just a ploy this whole time?” I could tell he was playing for time, but my next move required his action first. “No…you’re too clever. It may have been a rouse, but your third Pokémon builds off the power the Ninjask. Without it, it will only be…” He gave me a knowing smirk. “A shadow of its potential power. Which means your powerful little plan relies on one crux. You getting that attack boost, and making sure that, if your Terrakion should fall, your Ninjask is the next in the arena.” He concluded.
Woah, he’s right. Well, I suppose that wasn’t an incredible feat of deduction, but…that was certainly more than average. Fortunately, I don’t plan on my Terrakion fainting.
“That is one possibility.” I acknowledged, in Nightshade’s deep, baritone.
“More than just one possibility, wouldn’t you say?” He smirked. “Also, judging by the Choice Scarf tied to your Terrakion, you already have a move selected to use against me. A move, likely, that is super effective to the type you would have previously predicted that I would use against you, and did. Darkness.”
Palmer, I underestimated you...any more inspection, and you’ll find that little hook I have hidden in your bait. My only respite is that I don’t believe a trick like this has ever actually been attempted before in competitive battling.
“And you’re clever.” Palmer nodded again. “You, of course, would pick the move that was not only damaging, but guaranteed my destruction. A fighting type. And with 150% your normal speed, and 250% your normal attack, your Terrakion would be a force to be reckoned with…unless of course…” Palmer gave one last cunning grin. “Return, Weavile! Go, Sableye!”
“Terrakion, use Agility!”
“You fool!” Palmer laughed with a crazed frenzy. “You’ve wasted your choice of moves on a move that not only doesn’t do damage, but doesn’t effect my Pokémon! You’re stuck!”
“Unless of course that was a thrift-store blue scarf tied around his horn, and not one of your league’s precious Choice Scarves.”
Palmer’s grin slowly faded, as realization crossed his face.
“You were so close, Palmer.” I cooed. “You were looking at the bait, and inspecting it from every angle. Your problem was, you were looking at it from the angle of a scholar and a master, not a desperate shadow, hoping for his moment in the light.” I bowed. “You are a worthy adversary, but in this battle it appears I have bested you.”
“What moves does that Terrakion have?” Palmer sighed, and stared at the floor.
“Rockslide, Close Combat, and X-Scissor. Plus Agility, of course.”
My heart pounded in my chest. Had I won? It was rude to ask another trainer their move set, unless the trainer whom asked was about to…
Palmer winced. “…Yes. I-I forfeit. Congratulations, Shadow.” He gave a begrudging smile. “You have indeed bested me.”
It took every ounce of self-control not to jump from excitement.
Deep breaths. For Sandy. You have to keep this guise just a moment longer, then when the cameras are off…
“Your soul, or the certificate then?” I smiled.
“I’ll sign the certificate.” Palmer chuckled. “I’ve become rather attached to my soul…” |
Subsets and Splits
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