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Cassandra Ashton swore vehemently as her car sped down the highway. The rain that the weatherman had said was going to miss the town was coming down in torrents. Why they ever decided to hire a goombah like Thomas Wilkins down at the Channel 9 weather report station, Cassandra would never know. Blowing her auburn hair out of her face, she squinted into the watery dark road ahead of her as she tried to find her exit. Her headlights didn’t penetrate the inky blackness quite as well as she would have hoped. Suddenly, a tendril of lightning illuminated the sky just long enough for Cassandra to see that she’d sped past her exit.

“Great, just f***king great!” she muttered.

It didn’t help that the 4 Big Gulps she’d bought a few miles back was coursing through her like the Colorado whitewater rapids. She crossed her legs and squirmed as she tried to find a shoulder to get over on so she could turn around. As she drove on, she became painfully aware of three things; the rain showed no signs of stopping, she was hopelessly lost, and her bladder was really beginning to nag her now. True, she had a rather large bladder, and was known around her office as Cassie the Supertanker, but even she had a limit, and it appeared that 4 Big Gulps was it. Cassandra drove on, now wedging her hand in between her stocking clad thighs, her red skirt pushed up and opened to allow her throbbing bladder room to expand. She gasped as a small squirt dampened the gusset of her conservative white cotton underwear. Just as she was about to pull over, tear down her underwear and let it rip onto the street, she saw an exit coming up. She veered over to the side and took it, which led her down a narrower, winding lane road. The streetlights became fewer and far between. Cassandra was about to give up and turn around when another bolt of lightning lit the sky again, bringing a large mansion into view. Cassandra decided to stop in, ask for directions, use the toilet, and be on her merry way. She pulled her car up to the wrought iron gate and strangely, it was open. Cassandra had no time to ponder the curiosity of this; she had more pressing matters. She pulled her car up the long cobblestone drive. The mansion was even larger up close, and Cassandra almost decided to drive off. At that very moment a forked blast of lighting split the night sky asunder. For a second before the loud boom of the rolling thunder followed, the image of the house was burnt upon Cassandra's mind. Twisted small shapes which could only be disfigured gargoyles lined the roof and the overhangs of the flung out bay windows. Three stories tall with windows peeking out of the dark slate roof, the building seemed to rise up over the car, pulling it inwards. Shaking her head to dispel the image the storm had created, Cassandra fought back hard to contain the warm pee squirting from her pussy lips and soaking into her cotton panties. It was a stupid notion, she told herself, especially for a grown woman of thirty. She turned off the engine and pulled on her overcoat. She stepped out of her car and shivered as the rain soaked the hands drawing up her coat. Her bladder pulsed with hot urine, a real contrast to the chilling rain falling around her. Cassandra climbed the steps of the manor. It looked deserted; the windows were uninvitingly dark. Fortunately she had left on the car headlights and this provided just enough illumination for her to safely mount the steps to the main door. A quick scan of the dimly lit doorframe provided no sight of a doorbell, so Cassandra resorted to a hard knocking on the thick wood of the right hand door. Echoes of her fist falls reverberated from the other side of the door but there was no other sound apart from the constant drumming of the pouring rain on the porch roof overhead. She beat against the door again. “Hello!?” she called. “Anyone home?”

After several more seconds there was still no response. The wind had begun to rise in the short span of time she had been stood on the steps and already the rain had begun to move in under the porch canopy. Scowling in disgust at her rapidly dampening clothing she decided that if she didn't get an answer in the next twenty seconds, then she would pull up her skirt, let down her panties and simply piss all over the steps. If was almost as if the weather had heard her thoughts. With a sharp increase in strength, a new gust of wind sent a wave of rain in her direction. Enough was enough. Cassandra reached for the door handle. It was to her intense surprise when in slid downwards in response and the heavy front door opened inwards without a sound. Cassandra fell forwards catching herself at the last moment. She tentatively crept inside. The door behind her slammed shut of its own accord, cutting off the sound of clattering rain and howling wind so abruptly, Cassandra jumped, losing another spurt to her already damp knickers. She turned back around towards the main foyer, into a dark, eerie stillness. She stood gasping for a moment dazed by the difference between the outside world and the calm indoors. She had a prickly feeling on the back of her neck that suggested she should really not be here, but Cassandra’s swollen bladder would not be denied relief much longer, and it let her know so by angrily pumping a good long squirt of hot piss into her undies, this time creating a small rivulet down her right thigh. However it took Cassandra a good few seconds to steady her beating heart and finally turn around from the door and survey her surroundings. Through the gloom she could just make out that she was stood in an imposing entrance hallway. Cold stone slabs covered the floor leading off to a sweeping staircase leading up and off to the right. Dark doorways fed off at intervals along the wall no doubt leading to various rooms inside the mansion. For now all that mattered was that the house was deserted and that Cassandra still 
desperately needed to piss a bloody quart. She looked around even more, but the house was most definitely empty. She considered going off in search of a restroom; it definitely beat standing here in the foyer, shivering her ass off and trickling pee down her legs. She gave herself one more quick squeeze and set off towards the large spiraling staircase in the middle of the room. As she ascended, she noticed that the rain sounded strangely muffled, as if the walls of the mansion were soundproof. She came to another hallway. She started down it, when she swore she saw a shadow move. She gasped and squirted again. She had a prickly feeling along her neck that told her that she was not alone, but she decided to press on. She felt her way about in the dark for a while, then pulled out her iPhone and turned on the flashlight. The light didn’t stretch very far, almost as if the darkness were swallowing it, but she managed to illuminate enough of the hallway to go on. She began opening doors and peering inside them to see what was inside them, and more importantly, if any of them contained a toilet. To her surprise, every room was exactly the same; two twin beds at each side of the room, with a bedstand and a lamp upon it. To the right of the bed closest to the door was a closet. Cassandra shone her light around the room and it fell upon the contents of the closet; little dresses that looked like maid uniforms, but they couldn’t have been for girls any older than 12…maybe 16 at the oldest. She continued to search down the hallway, coming upon room after room like this. Her bladder was spurting quite frequently now, to the point where she literally had to hop up and down to keep the flood inside her from gushing all over her twitching thighs. Finally, at the end of the hallway, she came to a room that was surrounded by curtains. The floor was tile, and her heels made a clacking sound that echoed eerily in the darkness as she made her way in. She was immediately startled by a portrait on the far wall. It was of a woman, who looked as if she may be a few years older than Cassandra, with bright, intelligent eyes, and a beautiful but haughty expression. Her raven locks were done up in a delicate bun, and her half-moon spectacles sat on the bridge of her slender nose. She wore what looked like a grown woman version of the maid-clothes Cassandra had seen, except rather than being lavender and white, these were black. She pulled back the curtains, and each one revealed an empty cubbyhole. Cassandra looked into nearly all of them; every cubbyhole shared one thing in common. There was a circle in the floor of each one that was lighter than the surrounding ground, indicating that something usually occupied the space. The last curtain she peered behind proved her suspicions. Sitting on the ground was a squat little cauldron-looking object. Cassandra looked into it…It was about a quarter full with some sort of liquid.

It was no toilet, but it would have to do. Cassandra set her iPhone down and hiked up her skirt dancing on the spot, trying to drag the pot out to where she could use it. Her pee was pumping faster than she could stop it; her panties were soaking it up as best they could, the wetness running all the way from her pussy lips to the crack of her ample behind. She positioned herself over the pot. “Care to watch?” she told the portrait sarcastically as she got it into place. Seeing the pot there, ready for her use, only seemed to triple Cassandra’s desperation. Hopping up and down frantically, she kicked off her shoes. She didn’t even have time to pull down her underwear as a torrent of piss jetted from her pussy. Finally, after quite a few hours of torment, Cassandra’s bladder was finally able to relax and pour its steaming contents into the pot. She peed for what must have been minutes, and her audible sigh of relief echoed around the chamber. Once she had finished, she rose up and slid her panties off. They were too wet to wear now, so she merely folded them up and slid them under the now nearly 4/5ths full chamber pot, a little present for whomever owned this house in exchange for her relief. As she snuck back into the hallway, another shadow moved next to her. She hardly had time to register the flash of a little lavender maid dress before she felt hands grip both her arms and blindfold her. She yelped and fell to her knees in surprise before feeling a wad of cloth being shoved in her mouth. The arms began slowly dragging her away, as her screams welling up in her throat were stopped cold by the gag between her teeth.

To be continued….

Edited by Foxlover

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Oh wow this is good,  can't wait to see what lurks inside the mansion!

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Great suprise for the new year that you, Foxlover, wrote something again. I love your work and can't wait for more.

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If you don't mind me asking what sort of insperation did you have went creating this?

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Chapter 2. 
 

 One thing about imagination; it does funny things to you when you’re robbed of your sight and cast into darkness. Cassandra imagined she was being taken to a dungeon, where she’d be tortured for her trespassing. She imagined she was being taken to the owner of this house’s bedroom, where he would rape her until he deemed her debts of breaking and entering paid in full. Maybe she was just going to be thrown outside.

This seemed like the best option; she’d be able to at least scuttle away towards her car. Alas, this seemed like the least likely scenario. The already muffled sound of the rain on the mansion’s doors became fainter and fainter as the hands, which felt surprisingly small, dragged her further into the gloom.

 

A particularly nasty thought entered Cassandra’s racing mind. Surely…surely whomever was dragging her along wasn’t going to killher? She calmed herself by reminding herself that the only reason they would have to kill her is if she saw their face. She was blindfolded, for Pete’s sake, it’s not like she would have anyone to point out to the police in a line-up.

 

Suddenly, Cassandra felt whomever was dragging her halt, and she found herself being roughly shoved to her knees. She landed on something surprisingly soft, like some sort of carpet; certainly a torture chamber wouldn’t have carpet. Still, this didn’t rule out the rape theory, so she decided to wait and gather more information. She could tell that the room she’d been brought to was lit; a faint yellow light managed to permeate the cloth around her eyes.

 

“Bind her,” spoke a deep but feminine voice in a lazy drawl.

OK, so it seemed there was no man waiting to forcefully extract sexual favors from her.
Cassandra would’ve sighed in relief had it not been for the gag in her mouth. The voice’s accent was definitely American, and it was melodious and rich, like molasses. The voice seemed to be bereft of hostility, but it still possessed a commanding undertone.

 

Cassandra felt terrified and yet somehow reassured at the same time. Her muscles tensed as she heard footsteps approach her kneeling form. Her arms were brought rather gently behind her back, but they were secured roughly with a tough, scratchy rope. She heard the footsteps leave her side, and her ears prickled as she began to hear whispering voices.

She wriggled her wrists, trying to free herself, but the rope was knotted so tightly, Cassandra doubted that even Houdini himself could manage the feat of escaping it.

“Remove the blindfold, and take that gag out of her mouth, for goodness sakes, girls,” the woman’s voice said, sounding slightly annoyed. “Have you all forgotten your senses of hospitality? Honestly!”

 Cassandra vaguely wondered what part of hospitality dictated that a guest’s hands be tied behind their back, but she figured she was in no position to question it. She mentally prepared herself for what she might see once the blindfold was removed. She imagined all sorts of places waiting for her beyond the blindfold, and she subconsciously bit down on the gag in anxiety. She was surprised as it was lifted.

 

The room in which she found herself looked like an old-fashioned living room, like from the ‘40s or something. A merry fire (which wasthe source of the light, no doubt) crackled warmly in a hearth.

The soft floor turned out to be a large intricate rug in the middle of the room, deep and red in color, like a fine wine. A crystal chandelier twinkled in the firelight above her, and all around. Various paintings adorned the walls, whilst trinkets and other ornaments stood on a large oak book shelf across from the hearth.

 

She coughed as the gag was removed from her mouth. As she finished perusing the room, her eyes came to rest on the source of the voice. Cassandra gave a startled gasp; it was the woman from the painting, in the flesh, from the raven-haired bun right down to the half-moon glasses.

She looked a bit older than she had in the artwork…maybe early forties, but it was definitely the same woman, every bit as beautiful as the painting depicted. Cassandra figured this must be the owner of the house.

Cassandra also took the time to notice the 50 odd girls standing around the woman’s chair, ranging from age 13 to 22, all decked out in the maid outfits she’d seen in the rooms. They looked innocent enough, but Cassandra noticed a strange tension in their faces that she couldn’t decipher.

 

The woman smiled. “Hello. My name is Mathilda Mulberry, but my girls call me Madame Mulberry."  “This…” she said in that luscious tone of hers, gesturing delicately around the room.  “…is Mulberry Mansion. And you are?”

Cassandra swallowed hard. “Erm…m-my name is Cassandra…Cassandra Ashton.”

Madame Mulberry’s smile was sweet enough, but there was something off about it…something that Cassandra couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

“Well, Ms. Ashton, might I ask what caused you to stumble upon my humble abode?”

 

Cassandra was painfully aware of the maids’ eyes trained on her, almost like she was under a sniper’s scope. “Oh…um, well, I-I….uh…I was driving to a friend’s house…you know, after work, and, uh, it was raining really hard, and I got lost, and I really needed to pee, and-”

Madame Mulberry’s eyebrow arched. “If I may stop you there, dear…you said, you had to pee? As in, you had to pass urine?”

Cassandra really didn’t know why this was what Madame Mulberry was choosing to fixate on, but if it kept her from calling the police on Cassandra for trespassing, Cassandra was more than happy to indulge her. “Um…yeah, I-”

“Yes what?”

“Huh?”

“’Ma’am’, Ms. Ashton. Here at Mulberry Mansion we strive for the utmost excellence in decorum and respect.”

Cassandra gulped and continued. “S-sorry…Y-yes ma’am.Anyways, I had to pee, I had 4 Big Gulps while at work…My office is close to a 7-11…They were pretty big, I had to take a quick slash before I even started on the 3rd. I-I didn’t mean to intrude, it’s just, I reallyreally had to go, and-” 

“’A quick slash?’” Madame Mulberry interrupted again, her face showing a slight hint of annoyance.

“Ms. Ashton, I’d really prefer if you used less vulgar language…But as it’s your first night here, I suppose I’ll let it slide for now."

Cassandra blinked. “What do you mean, ‘first’?” she asked slowly.

Madame Mulberry ignored her question. “Now these ‘Big Gulps’, as you call them….How much liquid do they have in them?” Madame Mulberry asked.

 

Cassandra could’ve sworn she heard a bit of suppressed excitement in her voice.
She frowned at the change in Madame Mulberry’s tone. “Uh…I dunno, like 32 ounces?”

Madame Mulberry continued to stare at her. “And you drank 4 of these, with two bathroom visits between the time you drank the first and now, correct?”

Cassandra nodded slowly, a look a confusion on her face, not sure where this was going.
Madame Mulberry turned to a slender black-haired maid with freckles and large round glasses to her right. “Susanne, do the math.”

Cassandra watched as the girl began mumbling under her breath.

 

Susanne cleared her throat. “Each Big Gulp contains 32 ounces, or 1.3 litres of liquid. Thirty-two times four makes one hundred and twenty eight ounces, or 5.2 litres. Provided that she relieved herself of the first two Big Gulps before starting on the 3rd, that would mean that before she relieved herself both times, she would have to have to be carrying a maximum of 64 ounces per bladderful, or 2.6 litres.”

Cassandra was stunned. “Wow…that was incredible! What are you, some sort of whiz kid or something?” Susanne smiled but grimaced slightly when Cassandra said “whiz”.

Madame Mulberry nodded and looked back at Cassandra.

“You have quite the large bladder, Ms. Ashton,”  she said.

Cassandra shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so…I mean, it’s what I’m known for at work…got a nickname and everything.” She couldn’t help but smile a bit with pride, but her grin soon faltered under Madame Mulberry’s intense gaze.

“Yes…” the woman muttered. “I think you’ll do nicely.”

Cassandra didn’t like the way Madame Mulberry was staring at her, and out of the corner of her eyes, she saw the maids beginning to get restless. It dawned on her that she just might be in a hostile environment after all.

“‘Do nicely?’ Look, Madame Mulberry, this has been fun and all, and I really thank you for allowing me the use of your…erm…facilities, but I really should be going… my friend is probably wondering where I am…As a matter of fact, I should probably call her…”

Cassandra reached into her pocket for her iPhone; it wasn’t there. She sifted around her pocket with some confusion.
Madame Mulberry smiled once again, but this time her grin was devoid of any fabricated geniality.

 

“Looking for this?” She asked coyly, holding up Cassandra’s sleek black device.

Cassandra blinked. “What the…How did you…” She continued to splutter in sheer abject incredulity until a harrowing realization turned her blood to ice; she’d left her iPhone next to the chamber pot in that room.

“Tsk, tsk, Ms. Ashton…You should really learn to be more careful with your belongings…But, all is well…you won’t be needing this for some time anyway.”

Madame Mulberry’s cold smile persisted as she slipped the device into the folds of her robe.
Cassandra definitely didn’t like where this was going.
“Now, Ms. Ashton, let me explain why you’re still here; it’s for quite an important purpose indeed."

I’ll bet, Cassandra thought angrily to herself. Who does this bitch think she is, keeping me captive up here? As much as her head was screaming at her to run away, she didn’t dare try to make a run for it; even if she did get on her feet and to the door without any of the maids stopping her, she had no way of opening it; her hands were still tied firmly behind her back.

Madame Mulberry merely smiled. “You see, Ms. Ashton…here at Mulberry Mansion, our girls work very hard to maintain the elegance that you see around you. They cook, clean, and tidy up, and in exchange, they are allowed to enjoy the mansion to its fullest extent. Around 3 months ago, however, there was a complication. The gates surrounding this manor have stood here for decades, and were beginning to fall apart. With all of my resources allocated to keeping the mansion up and running, I had no extra funds to repair them. After quite a bit of calling and searching, I managed to find a man who would fix them for free, provided we would give him the necessary materials.

"As it turns out, the metal needed for the gates’ restoration was a pewter-iron alloy, a very hard substance to find. Luckily, we had a large supply of this alloy. Unluckily, it was from the chamber-pots that we use to relieve ourselves during the day. Our chamber pot cache was severely depleted in order to resolve this matter, and now only a few remain around the mansion. Because of the workload of the maids and the fact that there was simply no time to empty the chamber pots frequently enough to accommodate the strain, each girl was cut down to two respites a day; one after breakfast in the morning, and one before bed.

Cassandra finally realized why the girls looked so restless…They were all laboring under bladders of varying fullness; and Cassandra had gone and nearly filled one of the few places these hard-working young women could relieve themselves each day. Cassandra winced a bit when she heard about the “two-break” rule. Most of her coworkers wouldn’t be able to last to the end of the morning before a trip to the loo, much less sunup to sundown; Not everyone was blessed with Cassandra’s large bladder and strong holding muscles.

Madame Mulberry continued. “Many of our younger girls had trouble adapting to this new schedule. You see, their young and developing bladders are not strong enough to withstand a whole day devoid of relief. My older maids, having better control of their bladders than my younger ones, have often allowed the little ones to use the few chamber pots we still had.

Of course, in order to keep the pots from filling too quickly, many have had to limit themselves to a few seconds of relief, releasing justenough urine to take the edge off, unable to allow themselves the same full relief as the young girls.

Some of the maids even tried to sneak a second pee break in, but I quickly shut all that business down…Anyone who relieved themselves more than once a day was forced to forfeit her pee break for the next day. Of course, some girls were harder to train than others. Gloria…”

 

A particularly fidgety red-headed maid of around 19 stepped forward, shaking slightly.

“Please lift up your skirt.”

Gloria did as she was told, and Cassandra gasped. Gloria’s lower stomach protruded profusely, a clear indication of the swollen bladder pulsing behind it.
Madame Mulberry smiled. “When was the last time you had a completely empty bladder, dear?” she asked sweetly.

 

 

 

“About 4 days ago, Madame Mulberry,”  Gloria replied and then clenched her jaw.

 
“And why is that?”

“Because…because I was greedy, Madame Mulberry.”

“Yes. And now you’re aching to release your waters, aren’t you, Gloria?”

“Yes, Madame Mulberry."

“And you understand that for the time being, I can’t let you, right?”

 Gloria bit her lip. Cassandra could see that she was close to crying.

“Y-yes, Madame Mulberry.”

Madame Mulberry nodded curtly, and Gloria stepped back.

Madame Mulberry then turned back to Cassandra. “You see? My maids are strong, but one can only go so long without full relief…”
Cassandra looked up at Madame Mulberry from her place on the ground.
“I-I’m sorry, Madame Mulberry, really, I am,” she stammered. “But…what’s any of this got to do with me?”

Madame Mulberry simply smiled. “Well, our system worked for a week or so, but there simply weren’t enough chamber pots for my girls to use…accidents became frequent with our young ones, and even began to extend to our older ones…Until one fateful day, we discovered the concept of a human chamber pot.”

Cassandra wasn’t certain she’d heard correctly. “A human…wait…a what!?” she spat, glaring at the ever-so-composed Madame Mulberry.

Madame Mulberry smiled and reached into her bosom, pulling out a long, thin piece of tubing.

 

“Do you know what it is, Ms. Ashton?”

Cassandra shrugged. “A bendy straw?”

Madame Mulberry pursed her lips. “It is a urinary catheter, specially outfitted for the transfer of liquids from an overly-pressured container to another, emptier container. You are not the first woman to stumble upon my estate, Ms. Ashton. Many others have come here, lost, bound on journeys that took a wrong turn, looking for a place to stay the night, to rest, and perhaps relieve themselves of a copious amount of liquid, as you have. When the first young woman entered our house, tired and lost and bursting to relieve herself, I was kind. I gave her a place to sleep for the night, and even gave up my break for that day to allow her to use my chamber pot. My maids waited on her hand and foot, a marvelous feat considering the drawback of serving with a full bladder. The next morning, she ran into Madeline here.”

She put a hand on the shoulder of a young blonde girl who looked about 13.
“Madeline was on her way to a chamber pot, for the second time, mind you. Her urine was threatening to soil her uniform. The young woman, puzzled, asked Madeline where she was going, and of course, Madeline informed her that she was about to burst and was heading to violate a simple rule in exchange for temporary relief. The woman showed Madeline the utmost kindness; she knew the maids were only allowed one pee break a day, and despite the ramifications for violating this rule, it was apparent that Madeline was going to need another one. Rather than leave young Madeline to choose between either giving up the next day’s pee break or wetting her uniform, the woman took pity on her, and pulled out this catheter from her duffel bag; she was a urologist in the city before her time here.

She connected one end of the catheter to herself and the other end to Madeline, and voila, the poor dear were able to ease the strain on her overly taxed bladder. Madeline went and told my girls about this miracle woman. However, it became readily obvious that this would need some modification as well. The maids became greedy even with this new outlet.”

Cassandra saw quite a few of the maids lower their heads or avert their eyes in shame as Madame Mulberry continued her strange tale. 
“More and more girls began requiring the use of the woman, completely ignoring the discipline that I’d worked so hard to instill in them. The woman was overwhelmed; even with her vast special accommodations, she wasn’t able to accept so much urine. We needed more.

And so, my older maids began putting up signs in the nearby towns, seeking grown adult women for maid positions, offering lavish living conditions and nice pay; the only stipulation, of course, being that they had a larger than average bladder. Call it false advertising, but we were desperate.”

 

She paused to giggle at her play on words.

“Between the time when the first woman helped Madeline and your arrival, we added 2 more women to our collection, and they have aided us well… So well, in fact, that the chamber pots became less and less visited, many of the girls instead deciding to make use of our new women, who were only supposed to be for emergencies.

Such a lapse in hospitality, of course would not be tolerated…Each girl you see here has not been allowed to urinate since dinner.”

Cassandra could hardly believe what she was hearing. She just continued to stare at Madame Mulberry.

“Originally, I was just going to let you go after you properly thanked me for the use of my home…”
Cassandra caught the tiniest bit of lust in Madame Mulberry’s smile.
“…but since your bladder can hold roughly 2.6 litres…Certainly more than the women we have now…that would greatly ease the pressure on my girls to limit their relief to the few chamber pots we have left, and the women charged with carrying their loads.”

Cassandra narrowed her eyes, trying to decipher what Madame Mulberry was saying. A chill ran down her spine as she put the pieces together.

“Wait…you mean…t-the girls are gonna…they’re gonna…”

“…Relieve themselves into your bladder, yes. Now, don’t worry about having to take everyone’s urine just because you’re new…Our other human chamber pots will show you the ropes…How to maximize bladder strength, how to clench the catheter if a girl starts to get greedy, etc. You’ll be meeting them shortly…But first, I think it’s time we made use of our newest human chamber pot.”

Cassandra’s face reddened. “Y-you’re crazy if you think I’m gonna let someone piss into me! Who in the hell do you th-”

Cassandra felt a hand clasp around her mouth. It was Susanne.
“You shouldn’t speak to Madame Mulberry like that.” She muttered viciously, her voice so full of venom that it took Cassandra aback.

Madame Mulberry frowned. “I tried to be a gracious host, Ms. Ashton, but if you insist upon disrespecting me…Gwen, Felicity...put the gag back in her mouth.
Madame Mulberry laughed as Cassandra’s mouth was bound once again. “Do not worry, Ms. Ashton…After you’ve learned some proper decorum and have accepted your position here, I’m sure we’ll become fast friends.”

Not fucking likely, Cassandra thought darkly.
“Gloria…” the woman called, beckoning to the red-haired maid yet again. “Come here, my dear.”

The trembling maid stepped forward once again.
“Gloria, do you need to relieve yourself?”

Gloria inhaled deeply. “Y-yes, Madame Mulberry, very badly,” she responded, now positively dancing with desperation. After 4 days of non-stop fullness, Cassandra was surprised the girl could lasted this long.

Madame Mulberry smiled even wider. “Of course you do, dear. Would you like to empty yourself?"

Gloria looked at Cassandra, then back at Madame Mulberry.
“I would very much like relief, Madame Mulberry.”

Madame Mulberry stroked Gloria’s arm. “Are you sure I should let you? I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson… And you still have 15 minutes on your lockdown.”

Gloria bit her lip. “P-please, Madame…let me pee…I promise I’ll be good…I-I can’t hold it another 15 minutes…” she pleaded, her fidgeting becoming more and more pronounced, her hand now wedged firmly under her skirt.

Madame Mulberry put a finger on her chin, as if pretending to think.
“Well, Gloria…you have been a good girl…You may pee, dear.”

Gloria’s face broke out in a smile as she started excitedly towards the chamber pot near the bookshelf.

“Ah ah ah…” Madame Mulberry taunted, her ruby red lips curled back in a coy grin.
Gloria turned around, her fingers inches from the chamber pot by the shelf, her face tight with desperation.
“If you want to pee…” Madame Mulberry said. “You’ll have to use her.”

She was pointing at Cassandra now.
Cassandra wanted to protest, but the gag robbed her of her powers of speech.
Gloria looked at Cassandra, and Cassandra could tell she was torn between not wanting to inconvenience Cassandra, and desperately wanting to empty her bladder. After a few minutes of hesitation, Gloria took the catheter from Madame Mulberry with trembling fingers and walked over to Cassandra. Cassandra tried to scoot away, but Madame Mulberry snapped her fingers, and suddenly, two maids were on either side of Cassandra, holding her in place.

“Prepare her, please…” Madame Mulberry told them, smiling at Cassandra.

“Mmmph!” Cassandra’s cry of protest was muffled by the gag as one of the maids grabbed the hem of her skirt and pushed it up around her hips, exposing her stocking clad thighs and naked shaved pussy, which gleamed slightly in the firelight.
 

Madame Mulberry clucked her tongue, her eyes gazing intently at Cassandra’s smooth thighs.

“How indecent, Ms. Ashton, traipsing around my mansion without undergarments…” she breathed, her voice lower and a bit huskier than before. “Go on, Gloria…”

Cassandra squeaked a bit as Gloria gently pushed one end of the catheter into her urethra.

As Gloria pulled aside her panties and inserted the other end into herself, Madame Mulberry motioned to her.
“Oh, and Gloria?”

The red-haired maid looked up, her legs vibrating with desperation.
“You have my permission to relieve yourself fully.”

The little red head pursed her lips and then turned back towards Cassandra.
I’m sorry, she mouthed, her eyes shining with tears. She tilted her head back and let out a sigh.

Cassandra’s eyes widened as she saw the clear tubing fill up with pee from Gloria’s obviously overstretched bladder. Cassandra’s fingers curled behind her back as she watched the yellow liquid steadily make its way through the tubing towards her urethra.

To be continued…

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Thanks for posting the new chapter I now it's going to be great, I've always french maids in stories.

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Hooray ! Another installment of 'Mulberry Mansion'; i love what you're writing, Foxlover.

Keep those chapters coming now, this is the good stuff right here !

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Hooray ! Another instalment of 'Mulberry Mansion'; i love what you're writing, Foxlover.

Keep those chapters coming now, this is the good stuff right here !

I shall not disappoint, milady.

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Sorry it's been such a long time comin' folks, but here it is. 

Chapter 3   
 

Cassandra’s yelp of surprise was muffled by the gag in her mouth as steamy warmth trickled up her urethra. She could actually feel it beginning to drip into her bladder. It was the most bizarre sensation she’d ever experienced; it was like peeing in reverse. Cassandra looked up to see the almost orgasmic look of relief plastered on Gloria’s face. Despite her innate disgust at being used as a toilet, Cassandra could not help but feel the sense of pride that comes from doing someone a favor, strange as it might be. The red-haired maid was obviously bursting, and Cassandra was glad that she was at least able to allow the girl relief from her four days of agony. Gloria’s stream continued full force for fifteen seconds, and Cassandra was surprised at how much the girl seemed to be holding within her slender little body.

 

Madame Mulberry looked on at first with placid contentment. Then suddenly she snapped her fingers. “Alright, Gloria, that is quite enough. Cease your release.”

Gloria’s eyes flew open, and her blissful smile turned into a horrified frown while Cassandra could feel the surging stream flowing into her bladder slow down and sputter before stopping completely. The young maid turned to Madame Mulberry, her face now contorted with confusion and fright.

“B-but…but you said I could let it all out!” she protested meekly.

 

Madame Mulberry frowned.

“I changed my mind. We don’t want Ms. Ashton full to the brim on her first day, do we? Be grateful for what I have allowed you to let out, Gloria. Now, disconnect the catheter and get back over here.”

 

Gloria pursed her lips and slowly, with a trembling hand, plucked the catheter from Cassandra’s urethra. Cassandra was immediately assailed by a subtle but strong need to wee, but she managed to clamp down on her urethra until the feeling passed.

Meanwhile, Gloria stood and smoothed down her dress. Cassandra could see that the maid’s bladder was still bulging a great deal, but the bulge had gone down enough for Cassandra to surmise that she would at least be able to hold on a while longer now that she had been allowed a bit of relief. Cassandra shifted around as her bladder got used to this foreign urine. She felt an urge, but she was nowhere near full. Either Gloria had a bladder the size of a thimble, or Cassandra’s holding muscles were stronger than she’d thought. Either way, she was glad that Madame Mulberry had stopped Gloria when she did; the maid looked like she had enough pee still inside her to cause Cassandra a great deal of discomfort.

 

Madame Mulberry smiled down at Cassandra.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it? Oh, and don’t worry, you’ll get plenty of practice holding others’ pee…After all, my girls do have water and wine coursing through them all day, so I expect you’ll have quite a few visits! Margaret! Dominique!”

Madame Mulberry beckoned to two young girls who looked about 11. One had bouncy blonde curls, pretty blue eyes and a round, babyish face. Cassandra thought she looked a little like Shirley Temple. The other was more modest looking, with a heart-shaped face and brunette pigtails. Madame Mulberry smiled at the pair of them.

“Please untie and ungag Ms. Ashton, and escort her to her living quarters. Our other…special ladies should be awake now. As a reward, you are both allowed to release as much as you’d like into any of our ladies as you wish, provided you only use one, and stay away from Ms. Ashton.”

 

The girls’ faces broke out into twin expressions of glee and excitement. Madame Mulberry smiled.

“Keep in mind, girls, they have limited space, and they aren’t allowed relief again until tomorrow morning, so…pee wisely. The rest of you, back to bed. We’ve all got to get some sleep, we’ve a full day of work tomorrow. Off you go!”

 

The other maids quietly disbanded, heading towards other sections of the mansion, some grumbling or rubbing their tender abdomens, others casting jealous looks at the two pre-adolescent maids who had just been granted what they were all dying to have: a good, hard pee.

Dominique and Margaret happily trotted over to Cassandra. Dominique, the blonde one, set to untying Cassandra’s hands as Margaret pulled the gag from her mouth. Cassandra coughed and spluttered, feeling extremely thirsty. The rough gag had soaked up most of her mouth’s moisture.

“Could I at least get some water?” she asked.

 

Madame Mulberry grinned widely and snapped her fingers. Susanne came forth, clutching a goblet of water. She put it to Cassandra’s lips and tilted it back. Cassandra gulped it down greedily, the soothing liquid in her parched mouth feeling heavenly.

Once her hands were free, Cassandra began rubbing her wrists. Margaret grabbed a candle from the mantle and lit it on one of the other candles. The three of them paraded out of the parlor, Dominique grasping Cassandra’s right hand, and Margaret grasping her left. Cassandra managed to catch one more glance at the parlor before they disappeared into the darkness. She could have sworn that Madame Mulberry winked at her.

 

As they ventured down the dark hallway, Margaret held the candle out in front of them. There were no windows here, and the darkness was so absolute that Cassandra could see nothing outside the small circle of light that the candle provided. She had to take smaller steps in order to allow her body to accommodate the presence of Gloria’s urine. She could hear a faint swishing sound as two sets of tiny legs rubbed against each other as the young girls tried to contain their waters long enough to reach their destination.

 

Finally, they came to a large wooden door at the end of the hall. Margaret pushed it open, revealing a circular room that looked like a dormitory. There was a small furnace in the center and a window on the far side of the room.

Cassandra saw that the window was streaked with rain, and surmised that the storm must still be going on outside. She suddenly wondered where her car was, and what would happen once and her friends and family realized she was missing. Surely, they’d coming looking for her, and find out she’d been kidnapped by some forty-year-old urophiliac and her band of desperate house servants. She need only wait.

In the meantime, she figured she might as well make herself comfortable, which didn’t seem like it was going to be a problem; the room was quite nice. There were four four-poster beds with velvet curtains, and each bed had a small mahogany nightstand next to it with a crystal mirror over it. Three of the beds were occupied, and each bed’s occupant was looking at her. The first was a brunette lady who looked to be about in her mid to late twenties, with a heart-shaped face and green, almond-shaped eyes. Her body was slender and willowy, and Cassandra vaguely wondered how she was able to hold large amounts of pee with such a slight frame.

The second was a bronzed, toned woman in her mid-thirties with flowing chocolate hair and matching chocolate eyes. She was more Cassandra’s build; buxom, but slim.

The third was pale, with short blonde hair and a stocky but curvy figure, with shapely hips and an impressive bust. She was attractive in a plain “run-of-the-mill woman” sort of way, and she exuded a sort of motherly affection that Cassandra warmed to right away. Her intelligent blue eyes regarded Cassandra with a kind of guilty happiness, as if she was relieved that Cassandra was here, but felt sorry for her as well. Cassandra immediately surmised that this woman must have been the original human chamber pot.

 

Margaret and Dominique came around her and sauntered up the blonde woman. Dominique was the first to speak.

“Madame Mulberry said we could have a pee,” she said, in a matter-of-fact tone.

 

Cassandra was amazed at how the 11 year old girl’s eyes seemed to radiate innocence, as if she found the experience to be nothing out of the ordinary.

 

The blonde woman sighed.

“Alright…do you girls have a catheter?”

 

The girls’ eyes widened and they looked at each other with horror. They had forgotten to get one from Madame Mulberry, and they both knew if they returned to ask for one, their pleas would be denied, and their bladders would go unemptied. The bronzed woman reached into her nightstand drawer and pulled one out.

 

“I have an extra, Janet,”  she said.

Janet took the catheter from the blonde woman’s hand as the girls sighed in collective relief.

 

Margaret spoke up.

“We can pee as much as we want!” she said brightly.

 

Janet sighed, but she smiled all the same.

“Well, alright then. Who goes first?”

 

Dominique rushed up to Janet’s bed, already undoing her skirt.

“Hey, no fair!” Margaret protested. “I had a lot more to drink today than you did!”

 

Dominique glared at her. “Yeah, but you had your pee break later than I did!”

Margaret snatched the catheter from Dominique’s hand and began undoing her own skirt.

“No!” Dominique pouted, snatching it back.

The girls began to bicker over who got to go first. Janet rolled her eyes and smiled gently.

“Hey, that’s enough, you two. Why don’t you both just empty yourselves completely? I won’t mind, and I’m sure Madame Mulberry won’t.”

 

The girls both looked at each other again, before looking back at Janet.

 

“Promise you won’t tell?” Margaret said in a small voice.

 

Janet smiled. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

 

The girls’ faces lit up, and Dominique stood back to let Margaret go first. Margaret pulled down her skirt and little cotton panties. Janet leaned over, and Cassandra saw her grimace as the action squashed her bladder. Janet connected the catheter to Margaret’s little flower, and inserted the other end into herself. Margaret sighed, her high pitched little voice squealing with delight as the catheter turned gold with her urine.

 

After a few moments, Margaret’s stream ceased. Cassandra saw Janet smiling gently, but her eyebrows were scrunched in concentration. She heard the older woman grunt, and Cassandra knew she was trying to spare Margaret the knowledge that the younger girl was causing her bladder even more discomfort. Dominique came up next, and Cassandra saw Janet’s smile falter a bit. The older woman must’ve taken a lot of pee recently and was doubting her ability to hold more. The bronzed woman seemed to notice Janet’s distress too. “Hold on, Dom…You can use me, I’ve got some room. C’mere…”

 

Dominique sauntered over to the bronzed lady. Janet shot her a silent thank you. The woman nodded and got Dominique situated.

 

Once the girls were empty, they pulled up their skirts.

“Thank you!” they both said in unison, hugging the two women around the middle. The blonde woman smiled and kissed the girls on the head. Once both the girls were gone, the bronzed woman’s hand flew to her crotch.

“Oh geez….Why doesn’t that crazy bitch let us pee more than once a day!? My back teeth are floating!”

She massaged her peehole vigorously.

Cassandra was surprised about the tone in her voice; it wasn’t indignant outrage, but rather a dull and complacent grumbling usually associated with people complaining about the jobs they had no intention of quitting. She found herself transfixed by the woman’s desperate plight. For some reason, she couldn’t look away.

She was shaken out of her trance-like state as the blonde woman addressed her.

“It seems as if we have a new face.” She murmured genially. “What is your name, dear?”

 

Cassandra blinked. These women didn’t seem to be as freaked out and upset about this whole situation as she did. That made her a bit uneasy, but she decided to reserve judgment for later.

 

“Erm…C-Cassandra Ashton,” she stammered, looking around at all of them. The blonde lady smiled. “Pleased to meet you, Cassandra. I’m Dr. Janet Carrington. This is Patricia-”

 

“Trish.” The bronze woman interjected.

Jan looked at her. “I’m sorry… ‘Trish’ Valdez. And this young lady…” she gestured to the brunette woman, who still had not said anything. “…is Margaret Graham. She usually goes by Maggie.”

 

Trish looked up at her. “Cassandra, eh? How’d they get you?”

Cassandra looked at her, and it took her a minute to realize that Trish was asking how Cassandra had ended up in this odd predicament.

“Oh, erm…Well, I was lost, and I really needed to use the bathroom, so I stopped at this mansion to use the facilities and get directions.”

 

Trish offered up a wry smile. “You were about to spring a leak and they nabbed you, eh? Pretty sure that’s how Janet ended up here…Kinda ironic, considering she was a big name urologist back in civilization…”

 

Janet pursed her lips. “Enough, Trish. We must make Ms. Ashton feel at home for as long as she’s here.”

 

Trish rolled her eyes. “Right, like any of us are ever getting out of here.” She laid back on the bed and squeezed herself again. “Goodness, I gotta piss…It’s all that rotten little Desiree’s fault. You know, I think she drinks a ton all day, just so she can come pee into us, like it gives her some kinda wacko thrill or something. She must’ve used me 3 times today, and her bladder ain’t a teacup…That girl can really hold when she wants to.”

 

Janet sighed and looked back at Cassandra. “I can try to tell you some of the things I’ve learned here to make the transition easi-”

 

“Hold on!” Cassandra interrupted. “There’s not gonna be any “transition”! Once my friends know I’m missing, they’ll come for me!”

 

Janet pursed her lips and placed her hands in her lap. “Madame Mulberry is very good at what she does. She’s managed to keep all ofour relations off the trail with some well-placed phone calls and emails. She’s so thorough that none of our families have come to wonder why they haven’t seen us face to face in a while.”

 

Cassandra felt her breath catch in her throat. She was really stuck at this weird mansion with its weird owner and weird bathroom schedules. She sat down on the bed. She could be stuck here for months, forced to offer up her bladder as a toilet to girls she didn’t even know.

 

“It’s not all bad…” said a small voice in the corner. Cassandra looked around, and saw that Maggie was staring straight at her. “It’s actually quite nice once you get used to it…” she said in a low whisper.

 

Cassandra stared at her apprehensively. Trish just looked at Maggie with plumb repulsion.

“Weirdo,” she muttered.

 

Trish lay there, scissoring her legs back and forth before sitting up.

“Oh fuck it, I gotta piss!” she exclaimed, stumbling over to the window and throwing it open.

It was still raining, but not as harshly. Trish pulled down her black leggings and hopped up on the window sill, sticking her ass out the window. Her face melted into a dreamy expression of relief as she allowed her pent-up urine to rope out of her into the watery night anddown to the ground below.

After nearly two minutes, she cut it off. “That should hold me for a while…”

Cassandra looked at her. “You didn’t empty completely?”

 

Trish stared at her, as if astonished Cassandra would ask such a stupid question.

“What, are you nuts? I gotta have something to show Madame Mulberry in the morning. If she knows I peed before the time, she’d give Jan and Maggie here the day off, and it’d be just me taking every damn drop of urine in this place.”

 

Janet merely smiled, but she was rocking back and forth, her hands in her lap. Cassandra could tell that Trish’s release had made Janet’s desperation more pronounced. Only Maggie seemed not to be uncomfortable. In fact, she merely looked at Janet with an expression that Cassandra could only describe as placid bewilderment…with a tiny hint of lust. Cassandra was definitely gonna keep an eye on her.

 

“So, Cass, whose pee have you taken so far?” Trish asked.

 

Cassandra looked at her. “Only Gloria’s”.

Janet looked up in surprise. “Really? The ornery one? Madame Mulberry finally let the poor dear pee, I suppose.”

 

Cassandra shrugged. “Yes and no. She said she could pee, but about midway, she cut her flow off so I wouldn’t be too uncomfortable.”

 

Janet pursed her lips. “If Madame Mulberry stopped Gloria from filling you with all of her water, it was to inconvenience Gloria, not to help you. Madame Mulberry loves to make examples of maids who step out of line. Abusing their bladders is her favorite way of going about it.”

Cassandra said nothing. Not only was she trapped, but she was imprisoned in a house run by a sadist.

Janet smiled. “Don’t worry, dear. As long as you don’t do anything rash, you have nothing to fear from her. Now, come, let’s all get some sleep.”

 

The three women slid back into their beds and Cassandra took the fourth.  She slowly undressed until she was only in her stockings and bra. It was at that point that she realized she was wearing no underpants. Blushing slightly and hoping she could find some in the morning, she got under the covers and tried to get to sleep despite the dull ache that Gloria had inflicted on her bladder.

 

~Meanwhile~

 

Madame Mulberry sat alone in her chambers, groaning as she bounced up and down on her bed, her bladder absolutely bursting at the seams. Her hands maintained a viselike grip on her crotch as she rocked back and forth, trying to contain her ponderous load.

“P-please, mistress…” she breathed, her voice low and rough with the strain of not soaking her black robes. She gasped as a bead of pee leaked past her clenched muscles, causing her to twist her legs around and bounce around even more. “Please, let me pee…I did what you asked, I only allowed Gloria to pee a little into the new woman, I made sure she had room left for her initiation tomorrow!" She sucked air through her teeth, her eyes shut tight with agonizing desperation. "Please, I've been keeping it in since yesterday morning, as you demanded! I-I can’t hold it much longer!”

A quiet but commanding voice came from the shadows. “Oh, quit your blubbering, Mathilda,” it said, sounding slightly annoyed. “You act as if you’ve never had to hold you waters before. I've trained you better than this! You’re a grown woman, and here you are, writhing about like a schoolgirl! I’ve half a mind to make you hold it for the rest of the night!”

Madame Mulberry merely whimpered and squirmed even more.

The voice sighed. “But, I suppose have done as I have asked, and I am nothing if not a merciful mistress. I’ll let you get halfway to relief. Fetch you chamber pot.”

Madame Mulberry smiled widely, removing one hand from her crotch long enough to bend over and pull the chamber pot out from under her bed. She groaned as the motion of her bending over compressed her achingly full bladder.

“Now,” the voice began. “I want you to sit, legs spread wide, over that chamber pot, but do not release just yet. Just sit over it…and hold. Do this, and I promise that your agony will end quickly.”

Now the voice spoke with a forced calm, as if it was trying to repress excitement.

 

 Madame Mulberry’s eyes widened with horror.

“N-no, I won’t be able to hold it!”

 

The voice grunted. “You will do as I say, or I will not allow you to have your way with the newest human chamber pot!” it said, the irritation in it cutting through the darkness like a blade. Madame Mulberry pursed her lips.

“But you promised,” she pouted.

 

The voice was silent. “Oh, alright…”

 

Madame Mulberry hiked up her robes, revealing sheer black panties that hugged her curvaceous hips. She started gasping from the pain and muscle control it was taking to keep the chamber pot empty. The voice laughed, reveling in how Madame Mulberry continued to keep resisting the ever-inviting chamber pot nestled just under her thighs.

 

“You may release, now, Mathilda.”

The words had barely been uttered when Madame Mulberry’s bladder gave out. She barely managed to get her panties out of the way before blasting scorching volumes of pee into the container. She moaned in ecstasy and relief as she enjoyed the immense pleasure that peeing gave her. As she felt her bladder deflate, the voice spoke up again.

“That is enough. Cease your release.”

Madame Mulberry cut off her flow as the very words she’d spoken to Gloria echoed around in her head with grim resonance. “M-Mistress, I-”

The voice cut her off. “You dare challenge my decision?!” it said, rising with anger. “Be grateful for what I have allowed you to let out, Mathilda! I may not be so generous next time!”

Madame Mulberry bit her lip. She was still uncomfortably full, but she figured she might be able to manage at least the rest of the night. “Y-yes, Mistress. Thank you, mistress.”

The voice chuckled in approval of Madame Mulberry’s newfound posture of subservience.

“Now, get some rest, my servant. Tomorrow, we find out just how strong Ms. Ashton’s bladder really is.”

 

To be continued…

Edited by Foxlover

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Great job on this chapter, Fox !

Pleased don't make us wait quite so long for the next installment, OK ?

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Looking forward to ch 4 keep up the good work, was wondering if there'd be any panty wetting?

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Looking forward to ch 4 keep up the good work, was wondering if there'd be any panty wetting?

Patience, my friend. Cassandra has only just arrived at Mulberry Mansion.

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Ahh... but the real question is, can they ? :blush::lol::smile:

Ah, now that's a good question indeed.

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Ah, now that's a good question indeed.

With all of those girls and all of that holding, there are bound to be at least a few instances

where there will be a loss of control... :blush:

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With all of those girls and all of that holding, there are bound to be at least a few instances

where there will be a loss of control... :blush:

Maybe a massive wetting all at once?  :smile:

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With all of those girls and all of that holding, there are bound to be at least a few instances

where there will be a loss of control... :blush:

Patience, Frosty.... ;)

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Oh, i do firmly believe that all good things are worth wetting for...

oops, i meant waiting for... at least, i think that's what i meant... :blush::lol::smile:

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Oh, i do firmly believe that all good things are worth wetting for...

oops, i meant waiting for... at least, i think that's what i meant... :blush::lol::smile:

Frosty, you sly dog... ;)

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