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Hi once again everyone.

 

<present>

 

The bus driver of the SETC bus hung out of the side of  the bus blowing his whistle as we entered the Salem bus stop at 3:00 AM. This was to be our third and final bus switch for the night. The bus stop was dimly lit and reeked of stale urine and decomposing garbage.

I heard a few of my friends stirring awake as the bus lights came on. I grabbed a smoke and left the bus, edging my way past a restlessly rocking Sanjana. The station was utterly appalling. Garbage lay rotting in large heaps. I looked around for a place I could have my smoke. My eyes fell on the bathrooms, the gutka riddled wall from where the stench originated. I edged my way past the food sellers and into the open unisex shit yard that they called a toilet. 

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At this time of the night there was nobody around and the bathroom looked more than a little creepy. I stood to one corner and lit my smoke, an evil twinkling glistening in my eyes. I took a deep drag, then smoothly exhaled as my heart pounded faster and faster. I knew what was going to happen. I knew what I was going to see. I took another drag off the cigarette. 

The sound of footsteps pattering rapidly, approaching the bathroom stirred me. I took a deep breath and tried to steady myself. The footsteps grew louder and louder as the person running approached. Sanjana's panting was easily recognizable.

Sanjana dashed into the bathroom, a frantic look plastered on her face. She scanned the filthy room up and down quickly, noticing me but in her urgency not caring, and dashed into the closest 'cubicle' (if you can call it that). From my place in the corner, I had a perfect vantage point. I took another drag.

Sanjana unbuttoned her skin tight jeans and began frantically pulling them and her tight white polka-dotted panties off her thigh. The moment she had got them midway, she dropped into an awkward skewed squat over the trough below. Instantly there was a loud hissing sound as a forceful stream of urine shot into the bowl, washing off some of the brown plastered grime in its flow.

But though Sanjana was squatting, emptying herself into the trough, there was no relief on her face, merely determination. Just one glimpse of her sweaty contorted face and the way she was clutching her stomach, I knew there was a much bigger problem shouting in her lower stomach.

Her butt cheeks tensed several times during the coursde of her pee. Yet each time she managed to regain her composure. As her stream tapered off to a drizzle, she hurriedly pulled up her jeans and left the bathroom, buttoning them as she walked out. 

I followed her back to the bus with a sly smile on my lips. This was going to be an interesting bus ride !!!

 

<Two Days Earlier>

"Hey Rohit, where are we. I need to Peeee", Aishwarya whined from the back of the trekking group.

Rahul looked up from the path in front of him. He scratched his head as he replied, "I'm not really sure. We're quite lost, that's for sure. We're in the middle of nowhere! There's just trees and more trees!! If you really need to pee you should probably just use a bush."

Aishwarya looked indignant and sulking with a pouty face murmured, " I can wait."

Our trekking group had gotten lost in the depths of the forest. We stumbled off the main trail less than an hour back and hadn't been able to find our way back. There were 8 of us in total, friends from work and other. We'd come up to Yercaud for a fun relaxing weekend of trekking, not this.

Still we walked deeper and deeper into the jungle. As the sun started to dim, my eyes caught a figure in the distance, behind a forage of vines and branches. I pointed this out to my friends and they shouted to the person for help. The man however, didn't respond, at this distance we wouldn't know anyway so we all moved towards him shouting for help. 

Suddenly,  the figure began to run. Shouting we chased after it for a good 5 minutes. Finally it appeared to be slowing down; we ran forward with renewed vigor. As we drew closer, we saw that the figure was not a man, but a tall beautiful woman, wearing a typical traditional folded saree.

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As we drew closer, we saw that she was fiddling with something behind a large tree. When we approached we were surprised to see a well built shed, about the size of a small public toilet, made entirely out of wood, in the middle of the jungle. The woman was fumbling with a ring of keys in front of the door. Her incessant jiggling and knee-bending gave voice to the nature of her hurry.

Aishwarya had caught sight of the shed and was overjoyed. She outran all of us and reached the shed. Turning towards the village woman, Aishwarya said,

"Toilet? Can .. I?? Toilet??"

The village woman gave just one look of frenzied urgency to Aishwarya and went back to putting various keys in the padlock fastened on the door. 

Aishwarya was not well off. She was having severe difficulty keeping still. These were the final moments of struggle for her. All of a sudden a 'click' sounded as the padlock snapped off and the toilet door swayed open. Inside was a clean and obviously well maintained toilet. 

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Aishwarya was already contemplating running ahead into the toilet before it opened. As the doors swung open though, she felt a long leak (more like a squirt) rush out of her and down her cargo trousers. She held it back but within 2 seconds another squirt escaped, and then another. 

Aishwarya ran ahead, literally pushing the village woman to the side and fumblingly bolted the toilet door behind her as she entered. She could feel drops of urine running down her calf. She tore her cargoes down to her knees as a tidal wave erupted from between her legs, washing the toilet clean in its path. Aishwarya sighed loudly and closed her eyes in bliss.

The village woman trapped outside however was much less fortunate. Shell-shocked by Aishwarya's actions, the village woman, with her legs visibly twisted and in a semi hunch, pounded on the bathroom door. The 7 of us standing there could do nothing, and merely looked on. We were so busy watching her pounding away at the door that we didn't notice the gentle pattering noise of piss falling from her calves onto the soil until she started crying.

When we realized what was happening, we all looked away, feeling incredibly guilty and awkward. The woman sobbed gently as her urine ran down her legs.

Suddenly the wind changed, the sky darkened, the tree leaves rustled ominously. The woman looked up at us, her kajol smeared around her eyes. Her look was one of unadulturated hatred and anger. 

The next thing we knew, she was levitating above us, 5 feet in the air. As she looked at us her eyes glowed with orange fury.

"FUCK YOU!! You bastards will pay for what you've done. You'll feel my pain, my humiliation, my helplessness, ALL OF YOU!!! You WILL pay. You WILL know what it feels like. Every single one of you!!"

With that she disappeared among the foilage. We gazed upward stupidly in shock. The sound of a flush was followed by a relieved Aishwarya stepping out of the bathroom as she buttoned up her cargoes. 

"What happenned guys??"

 

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We stood there, shellshocked, looking up at the rustling leaves. The sky had returned to its normal glow and the trees fell silent. Aishwarya looked at us quizically.

"What happened guys? What are you looking at?? And where did that woman go?"

 It was Rohit who answered her.

"She flew. She fucking flew man."

We then all pitched in to narrate the happenings to an incredulous Aishwarya. Surprisingly, the woman's accident wasn't even mentioned.

"...and then she just fucked off into the sky.", Rohit concluded the story.

There were a couple moments of silence before Aishwarya spoke up.

"What did she mean when she was ranting about the pain and all of that stuff?".

"It wasn't obvious enough to you?", I replied.

 "You know she.... she....", I trailed off awkwardly, "......She kinda pissed herself..". I felt that this certainly warranted a mention. Everyone averted their eyes uncomfortably, scratching their necks, digging under their nails, everyone except a grinning Aishwarya.

"No Way!! Are you serious!?? "

Sanjana piped up from the group, "Yeah it's true. Right where you're standing actually."

Aishwarya jumped out of the puddle she was standing in. The base of her cargoes were now cold and wet, a result of some of the puddle splashing on her.

"Ewwww!! Fucking disgusting!!! Let's leave this place guys. The sooner we find civilization the sooner we can sort all of this out."

Aishwarya stormed off into the woods and we had to jog to keep up. For hours and hours we cut through dense vegetation, pushed vines aside, crossed streams, ate the last few valuable idlis that we had with us and walked on.

We were understandably overjoyed when we heard voices in the distance. Drawing closer, we saw lights and rising smoke as well.We were saved! 

We ran towards the village excitedly. The townspeople were kind and welcoming though they had some difficulty understanding us. 

It was about 2 in the morning and we were ecstatic. We thought our troubles were over.

Little did we know they were yet to begin.

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  • 2 weeks later...

“Oh my God! A village! Thank God!” Sanjana exclaimed, running ahead of the rest of us.

Aishwarya and Rohit exchanged relieved glances, glad that they had reached civilization finally.

 

The sun was in the process of setting over the quiet town. It’s dust streets were empty. The sound of kitchen utensils softly clanging emanated from inside the flickering gas-lit houses. We now found ourselves standing on a dusty street corner. It was evident that it witnessed a fair amount of activity during the day, but now, it lay abandoned. Completely and utterly empty.

 

In the distance, we saw a bullock cart slowly heading up the road, leaving a small cloud of dust in it’s wake.

“Flag it!! Flag it” Deeksha  shouted.

 

We all put our hands out in a saluting gesture. As the bullock cart grew closer we saw that there was an old wizened dhoti-clad man with a smouldering bidi (local-hand-rolled cigarette) held firmly between his scorched lips. As he drew closer, he turned to us, a half smile floating on his lips and asked,

“yen papparachelia? Appadu kranthinayaa?”

We looked at each other confused. I didn’t understand what he was saying, and, from the look of my friends’ faces, they didn’t either. I turned to him,  and was about to say that we didn’t understand when Deeksha piped up from the back.

“Enthu. Haralli Pukkatriya Ahngaeraa?”

A smile cracked the old man’s face. He half bowed and, with a sweeping motion of his hand, ushered us into the back of the bullock cart. We beat the dust off of sacks of rice and grain and sat on them. Once we were all inside, the man shouted and the bulls set off.

We all turned admiringly to Deeksha.

“Wow Deeksha”, I said astonished, “ I had no idea that you speak …. Whatever it is this was…..”

Deeksha laughed cutely. She looked down at the ground as if embarrassed and brushed the excess hair out of her face as she spoke.

“It’s called Pundali. It’s an ancient mix of Sanskrit and Tulu.”

Aishwarya  joined in. “Pundali?? I’ve heard of that before. But… isn’t that a dead language?”

Deeksha nodded her head. 

“That’s right. I have no idea why this guy’s speaking in it. I studied it as my 3rd language till 12th standard though. Lucky us right?”

We all nodded our heads gratefully and sat tight. Following another brief exchange with the bullock cart driver, Deeksha turned to us and said,

“ He’s taking us back to his house. He says after dinner and a good night’s rest, he’ll take us to the market with him tomorrow morning. We can catch a bus from there”

We were relieved and thanked her immensely. Lakshmi’s face however, didn’t share the same look of relief. Rather, she looked somewhat agitated and anxious.

“Hey Deeksha”, Deeksha turned around. “Could you ask him how much longer it’ll be till we reach his house?”

Deeksha looked at her for a while. Her face made it visible that she thought this was a strange request yet still she went on and asked. The wizened old man strained to understand the question and when he did he replied,

“ Pang Kukhth”.

Deeksha  nodded  and sat back.

“So??”, Lakshmi pressed her.

“Um…… well, I don’t really know numbers in Pundali”.

Lakshmi  groaned  audibly and sat back on her rice sack. She glared , annoyed, at the sky, as if it was personally responsible for whatever misfortunes were plaguing her.

The old man reached inside of the folds of his dhoti and pulled out a clear un-labelled glass bottle filled with a golden elixir. With a mischevious grin on his face he took a swig and held it out to the teenagers, all the meanwhile talking merrily. They all looked at Deeksha doubtfully for interpretation.

“He’s offering us liquor.  My Pundali’s not that bad.”

Everyone looked at each other,                as if checking if the group collectively approved.

Rohit however, had no time for that bullshit. He reached out, taking the bottle from the man’s hands and took a deep swig of it. He felt the watery liquid in his mouth change to a bitterness in his throat to a warm burn in his chest. He exhaled strongly. He felt AMAZING!

Aishwarya, who was sitting downwind of him, coughed and covered her nose in disgust and whined,

“That stuff fucking reeks!!”

Everyone’s scrunched faces and wrinkled noses reflected the same feeling. A downcast Rohit took a final swig and handed it back to the happy old man.

Lakshmi popped up from the back again, her face red. She discretely turned to Deeksha who was sitting next to her. In a low whisper she asked,

‘” Is there any way to ask him to pull over, just for a short break…”. The anxiety was visible in both her voice and her trembling legs.

Deeksha asked the cart driver. The cart driver dismissed the request with a flick of his hand and an explanation in Pundali that his house was very close.

“Very close”, Deeksha repeated to a sceptical Lakshmi.

In the meantime, Rohit was beginning to feel strange. The warmth in his chest had long since subsided, transferring their distortion to his head. He felt giddy and loose. Uninhibited. As if there was nothing that could worry him. 

The very moment that this though crossed his mind, he experienced a strange sensation, a tug of sorts, from the pit of his belly. The tug rapidly changed to a sort of soreness, a stretchiness of sorts. The stretchiness changed into its final form: the form of a litre of liquid pressing against the aching walls of his distended abdomen.

The old wizened bullock cart driver was obviously used to travelling some long distances because by the time we reached it was more than 40 minutes later. Stiff legs and aching backs for all, swollen bladders and trembling legs for some.

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The moment that they got out of the bullock cart in the pitch black night, like silhouettes before the dimly flickering windows of the country style house, Lakshmi and Rohit had only one thought on their minds. FIND A TOILET.  They both also knew that they mustn’t do so at the risk of offending their host. With clenched muscles and firm resolve Lakshmi and Rohit entered the simple wooden door of the house.

The house was old. Very old. Above a smoking cluster of incense sticks,  5 framed A4 pictures had been hung. Though the writing was in Pundali, Sanjana was still able to read it as she knew the Devangiri script. The youngest of the men in the pictures was obviously the bullock cart driver, easily identifiable even back when he was 19. The other men had moustaches and were presumably his ancesstors. 6 generations was her conclusion.

As they entered, they saw the old bullock cart driver, greeting an elderly woman, presumably his wife, a man, presumably his son, and two teenagers,a dude and a girl, almost exactly the same age as us.

The elderly woman was cold – or at least she seemed to be. We warranted nothing but icy glares from her wrinkle-laden eyes, accompanied with laughing apologies from her husband. She hid in the kitchen, beating the roti dough and frying up brinjal.

The bullock cart driver’s son was a solid conventional looking man, easily in his late 40’s. A clean shaved face, a tucked in shirt and a fat moustache perched on his upper lip, reflected both the monetary and educational disparity of this generation and the last.

The bullock cart driver came forward, slapping Deeksha on the back playfully. He spoke,

“ Entha punganjuran appudepha.”

Deeksha hastily translated. “He’s saying come. He wants you to meet his grandchildren.”

As we stood in a line in front of them, the old man doted proudly on his two grandchildren, both taller than him. Deeksha stood beside him, translating as he spoke.

Gesturing to the boy, Deeksha said,

“His name is  Hrithik. He’s a wrestler in the local Shale. He’s in his final year of college.”

Everyone raised their hands respectfully and greeted him. It was already obvious though that he had eyes only for Lakshmi.

He made firm prolonged eye contact with her. To say that it was unnerving would be a complete understatement. Lakshmi lost her game completely. Before she knew it she found herself drowning in his rich chocolaty eyes, flying on his deep and husky voice, and riding on his beautifully shaped pecs. He looked as if he had been fashioned from a God.

Lakshmi resisted the contractions in her bladder with all her might. She prayed to God that he didn’t see her flinch. As she bit her lower lip, she felt his gaze pierce inside of her. Through all of her layers, her bull shit, her ego. He was looking at her. He was looking at her, as she wanted to be.

Her heart beat once, stronger than normal. She felt the shockwaves rush through her belly, tingling inside of her. Like a feather drifting over her, it toyed its way down to her navel, brushing lightly, and kept moving down. Lakshmi felt her muscles contracting, all of them. The feeling continued to spread downwards and downwards. All of a sudden, a small patch of gooey witnessed oozed into Lakshmi’s panties. Her muscles unclenched and she looked down panting.

As she moved her leg slightly, her thigh felt the patch. She was instantly rocked with another ecstatic shiver of pleasure.  She bit her lip hard, as hard as she could, to prevent any sound from coming out. All that she could think about was Hrithik, his perfect lips, his high cheekbones, his bulging muscles, his chocolate slab abs, his muscular thighs, and a toilet. Oh how she needed a toilet.

As Lakshmi was secreting her secrets of love, Deeksha had moved on and introduced the man’s granddaughter. Her name was Shruthi. She was tall, dark-complexioned, and slim, with curves in al the right places. Wearing a traditional Kurti with Dupatta, she greeted the guests with a folded palms Namaste. As she scanned their faces, she fixed her gaze on Rohit. The moment that she knew he was also making eye contact, she winked quickly and returned to the kitchen.

Rohit felt his cock rising, even as his urge for the bathroom increased. The combination of the alcohol and his full bladder gave him the confidence to go and ask Deeksha about the toilet.

Deeksha asked the man but he replied quite sharply. Turning back to Rohit she explained.

“He said you shouldn’t go within an hour before eating,” then, as if she was adding it to explain better, “ It’s some kind of a superstition thing. Are you guys okay??”, her eyes flicked over to Lakshmi.

Rohit spoke up,

“Yeah. I think I’ll be okay.” Rohit saw Deeksha’s eyes flitting over to Lakshmi. “Is Lakshmi okay though?”

Deeksha sighed and looked at Lakshmi, sitting with her legs crossed on a stool. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. She didn’t seem okay in the bullock cart.”

Rohit sighed. Though he’d never thought of it before, the idea of Lakshmi needing to pee was arousing. Perhaps it was his drunkenness, perhaps it was similar predicament, but he felt a rush of blood flow below his waist. His mind was now filled with vivid images of Lakshmi grabbing her crotch and running, running as fast as she could, and Shruthi, the cart driver’s sexy granddaughter.

At that point, Shruthi and her grandmother emerged from the kitchen, carrying plates laden with Rotis and vegetables. We all sat on low stools around a low country-style table as we dug in and began to eat. Be it coincidence or not, Rohit found himself sitting directly opposite Shruthi and Lakshmi found herself right opposite Hrithik.

 Rohit, drunk as he was, was unable to take his eyes off Shruthi. His groin felt as if it was on fire. The bulging of his bladder coupled with the sexual excitement tangible in the air was too much for his jockeys to contain. He started to grow, larger and larger every time he looked at her. Shruthi continued to eat as if nothing was happening, though her mischievously glistening eyes said otherwise. Coupled with the beauty and subliminal sex of Shruthi was the idea, playing as if on repeat behind Rohit’s eyes of Lakshmi, grabbing her crotch and running, running just like Aishwarya ran in the jungle, running into the stall, slamming the door, taking off her…..

Rohit was jolted from his reverie by Deeksha nudging him. “ He asked you how the food is.”, she whispered. Rohit instantly smiled and gave a thumbs up, thanking the man. The old man responded by beginning a small conversation with his granddaughter. She appeared to keep saying no but the old man continued to egg her on. Eventually she caved in, turned to us, and began to speak in fluent English.

“My grandfather wanted me to tell you a small story.”

Rohit wasn’t the only one taken aback by the fluency with which Shruthi spoke English.

“He wanted me to tell you the story of Parchavaniyamma and the evil Thakraputras. He doesn’t speak English though, so you guys don’t need to worry about that.”

Rohit felt something rubbing his leg. At first he moved back, away from it, but it persisted. It was warm, firm and flexible. He looked just once at Shruthi’s face and knew that it was her. His alcohol-fuelled heart was pumping gallons of blood to his raging cock.  Her leg moved up, from his calf to his knee.

“Instead, I’m going to tell you a different story…”, Shruthi continued talking.

Rohit felt Shruthi’s foot edge its way past his knees and rub gently across the inside of his thigh.

“Once I was travelling on a bus. It was a government bus, crowded and filthy, travelling to Mysore. I boarded it, and it set off.”

Shruthi’s foot had made contact with Rohit’s firm cock. She began to gently rub her foot up and down against it as she continued speaking. Her voice grew softer with every word. It was almost as if she was telling everyone that she was talking to Rohit and Rohit only.

Aishwarya, Deeksha and I knew what was going on. Aishwarya looked appalled, but did nothing. The rest of us ignored it completely and began desperately trying to engage the doting grandfather in conversation.

“As the bus was speeding down the freeway and the fresh night air blew against my face, I felt a pull.”

Shruthi’s toes grasped Rohit’s cock and he gasped a bit too loudly.

“I felt a pull in my bladder. It was impossible to control.”

Rohit was drunk and in no state to resist. He sat there, his face an orgasmic mess, as Shruthi’s foot rubbed faster and faster against his dick. He didn’t care why she was saying this. He didn’t care why she was doing this. He just didn’t care. He couldn’t care.

“And as I sat their, biting my lip and crossing my legs, I knew, I knew I was going to have an accident. But I’d never had an accident before, and I was determined, determined, not to have one that day.”

Rohit’s erection was in its final stages. Shruthi’s foot rubbed against it with the same (if not greater speed) than he did when he was jerking off. His face twitched as he took deep breaths and tried to regain his composure. His dick tensed and untensed, again and again, straining, gathering the strength for what was to come.

“So I tensed all of my muscles. I walked to the front of the bus, looked the bus rider dead in his eyes, and told him that I was going to piss right there if he didn’t pull over.”

All of a sudden, as if it had just woken up, Rohit’s full bladder began to shout in process. He felt a small squirt of pee escape into his underwear. He instantly tightened his bladder to regain control. He could feel the sperm gathering at the base of his dick. He was mere strokes away from shooting his load.

“He looked at me as I stood there, grabbing my crotch, and opened the bus doors.”

Another squirt of urine shot into Rohit’s grey jockey before he knew it. Enough to leave a small wet dot on the denim blue jeans above it. Simultaneously, he felt his orgasm rising up. He had mere seconds left. It couldn’t be stopped anymore. He felt himself ride those last few seconds before ejaculation with no control over his body or his dangerously full bladder.

“I held my crotch with my right hand, threw open the door, and ran away from the bus, towards the green expanse in the distance. I wouldn’t make it. I felt a bit of dampness on my palm. I wouldn’t make it.”

Rohit had squirted another jet of urine, followed by another jet, followed by another jet, and all of this on the sharp slope of an orgasm. His ejaculatory functions weren’t impaired. He knew he wouldn’t make it.

“Less than 8 steps away from the bus, I tucked my kurti under my chin, hoisted my salwar, untied it in one deft move, and dropped it to my ankles. I squatted there, in full view of the whole bus, and soiled my chappals and the soil with a solid stream of piss that tore up the ground.”

Rohit came in his underwear. Biting his lip and with fists clenched he climaxed, straining as he shot his seed into his jockey L’s.  In between contractions though, his dick overflowed with pee. It dampened his pubes and his underwear. Before he knew it, his jeans had turned into a stained flowing mess.

Rohit was peeing himself.

Shruthi was the first one to jump back in disgust. Her foot had felt the liquid far before the others heard the sound. She jumped back and stood up. Everyone’s eyes turned towards Rohit, including the Old cart driver. Everyone scooted their chairs slightly away from him as he continued to piss, the final drops of his bladder pit-pattering onto the stone floor below. Rohit’s face was flushed bright red with embarrassment. He got up and ran outside, slamming the door behind him.

 

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The room was completely silent. We heard a crow caw in the distance. The steady dripping of the contents of Rohit’s chair filled the empty space, pervading over all the other sounds. It drew all of the room’s attention.

The old woman began to mutter superstitiously to herself. She desperately began to fumble with the oddly shaped  beads on her abnormally long necklace. With a terrified expression plastered on her face, she began to chant softly.

Deeksha tapped the old man’s shoulder.

“What happened? Why is she chanting like that?”, she asked timidly.

The old man turned around with his classic look of nonchalance and waved his hand dismissively.

“He says his wife is very superstitious about such things. In his village things like ….. this …… are thought to bring bad luck.”

Lakshmi’s knees were shaking underneath the table. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths to steady the swaying litres in her bladder. She turned to Deeksha and asked,

“Bad luck?? How so?”

Deeksha turned and repeated the question to the old man. He began to speak, very quickly and continuously, as if he were narrating a story. After no less than 5 minutes, the room fell silent as he finished. The only sound was that of his wife rattling bells and chanting monotonously in the shrine in the corner of the room.

Lakshmi’s  legs were bouncing against each other frantically. Though her trembling legs were hidden beneath the table, the expression on her face mirrored her sense of helplessness. With a trembling voice she turned to Deeksha and uncomfortably asked,

“What did he say?”

Deeksha turned around slowly, and began to repeat what the old man had said,

“There’s a lady who lives in the forests nearby. She’s worshipped by most of the people in this village; they believe she protects them. Things like….like this are the fates that would befall her enemies according to the legends.”

The significance of what Deeksha said wasn’t lost on anyone. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at each other warily, aware that one wrong word could be the end of them. Luckily, they all kept their mouths shut. Lakshmi, who’s legs were now tightly crossed, turned to Deeksha and asked,

“What legends??”

A minute later, once the old man had answered Deeksha began to translate.

“They say that long ago, back in the days of the King Dathabra and Queen Janthasri, she was an assistant of the queen. Her name was Aparna……..     

All of a sudden a hypnotic aura seemed to fill the room. The chanting of the hunchbacked woman coupled with the rhythmic clanging of the bells, fell like a stifling mist on the teenagers’ minds. They felt their eyes begin to droop. The words of Deeksha’s story became blurry and distorted, as if they were rushing past them as they fell into the story, drawn by the power of the tale.

Though their eyes were closed, their minds’ eyes were clearer than ever. It was as if they were watching a play being enacted right in front of them. They felt as if they were in a dream, a very very lifelike dream. They couldn’t speak or feel; they could only watch and listen. Dissociated from everything else, <INSERT NAMES HERE> drifted into the silenced halls of the past. Watching. Listening.

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Spoiler: Historical chapter coming up :)

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Warning: Graphic pooping, explicit sex , light bondage

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< 1398 Chaitra (Month of the moon) >

The flickering orange lights of hundreds of candles illuminated the cold stone hall of the palace. Pindrop silence and fresh chilly air filled the hall. In the distance, a sari clad figure hurried down the hallway, clutching her Dupatta tighter.  When her efforts to walk faster failed, she broke into a half run.

From the end of the corridor, a voice boomed out,

“Aparna!!”

The running woman stopped, a look of anxiety plastered on her face as she turned and looked in the direction of the voice.

From the shadows stepped a portly overweight middle aged man wearing royal robes.

“K….King Dathabra”, Aparna bowed slightly, “What do you desire your highness?”

“You,” Dathabra stepped close, one ominous step at a time. “You,” the smell of wine was thick on his breath.

Aparna’s face mirrored her feelings of helplessness and defeat. She had known that this day would come. Ever since the King had made eye contact with her as she poured wine for him last Diwali, she knew that one day he’d want her. To refuse a royal command meant certain death. Aparna’s mind ran in overtime, searching frantically for an escape from her situation: there was none.

Strangely, Aparna wouldn’t mind having to sleep with the king. She was a young woman having just turned 19. She knew that there was just one thing that men wanted. Ever since she had stumbled across the brutalities of a downtown brothel as a child, she knew that one day she too would be required to lie with a strange man whom she didn’t love. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was one brewing inside of her.

Aparna’s bloated stomach had been the one to wake her up at 2:00 in the morning.  Quickly she had donned her sari and raced out of the servant’s quarters to the fields outside of the wall to relieve herself. Unfortunately, the king’s drunken presence, was an unforeseen problem.  A big problem. A tell tale cramp began to squeeze her insides like squeezing toothpaste out of the tube.

Under the countless folds of her sari, Aparna crossed her legs tightly, clenched her buttocks, and through tight teeth spoke to the King bashfully, while looking down,

“My Lord…..”

The king gave a drunken laugh and put his arm around her. The wafting fumes of alcohol made her eyes water. Lustfully he placed his other arm on her hip and pulled her towards him. He pulled himself up close to her and she felt his small erection pressing against her stomach. In disgust and desperation she tried to push herself away from him, turning her head frantically from side to side to avoid his embrace. The king paused, looking at her with a mix of anger and shock. He raised a hand and shouted a command.

At once, a small group of soldiers silently stepped out of the shadows and begun moving towards her, a bag and a rope in their hands.

Aparna couldn’t see  with the bag tied around her head. Stumbling over her feet and the dusty rocky roads, she trudged behind her captors. Even with the bag over her head she could tell that it was still night; the cool breeze and the pindrop silence gave it away.

10 minutes had passed before the bag was pulled off of Aparna’s head and she was kicked roughly, falling onto the dusty forest floor. At once she got up and looked around frantically, inspecting her surroundings. All she could see was an entangled mattress of roots above that loped over branches and hung down, doubling as both walls and a ceiling. She was in the centre of a Banyan tree, surrounded by at least 6 other terrified women in saris.

Pale slivers of moonlight cut through the branches, floating around wistfully on the clumpy mess of roots below before disappearing, as suddenly as it came.

 Aparna felt a bubbly watery feeling in the pit of her stomach. The brisk walking had made her need much worse. The pressure on her bowels was so severe, it was all that she could think about. She crossed her legs deftly and sat quickly, placing as much pressure on her butt as she could.  Her need slightly alleviated, she inspected the other 6 girls.

They were all young and dark, no doubt slaves or servants of some sort, their skin toned by long hours in the sun.  It didn’t take long for Aparna to notice that the other girls were in predicaments similar to her. They all fidgeted urgently, crossed their legs, or sat on their heels. Many of them rocked back and forth slightly, too desperate to control otherwise. They had probably been abducted by the king’s men on while on their way to perform their morning duties.

The King stumbled through the banyan roots, still drunk out of his mind. The guards who had accompanied him remained outside. The King walked towards the side of the room of roots, leaned against a tree, and began to remove his Dhoti. As he fumbled with the knot, he shouted out,

“Two Girls! Come here, two girls!!”

Aparna noticed the girls eying each other furtively, no doubt suspicious. Out of the corner of her eye she saw two girls exchanging glances, obviously considering the offer. Stockholm syndrome had already set in. Determined that aggravating their captor wasn’t a good move, the two dark farm girls, no more than 19, stepped forward towards the king.

“Off with your clothes! Remove them!! Take them off now! Not just you two, all of you!!”, the King bellowed drunkenly, still fumbling with his Dhoti.

The girls timidly looked away. Once they realized that the King would not be swayed on this issue, they began to timidly undress, slipping the plaits of their saris over their shoulders. The cloths that covered them flowed off, onto the ground, exposing their dark naked bodies to the moonlight.

A shocked Aparna looked at the dark brown bodies of the girls around her contrasted with the pitch black hair covering their crotch. Aparna had initially been resolute in her decision not to disrobe, but a look at the drunken glimmer in the King’s eye told her that her only way out was to bide her time. Her stomach rumbling uncomfortably, she stepped out of her emerald green sari, and stood with her head bowed, the dark skin on her trembling ass shining in the moonlight.

Aparna felt a wave of pressure run through her like a sword. She clenched her buttocks but it required all her concentration and muscle strength to hold it in. She knew that she wouldn’t last long unless somebody intervened.

The King had finally managed to tear off his Dhoti. He stood there, wearing only his shirt and his chappals. His legs got hairier as you went up. He swung his erect cock from side to side.

The two girls that had volunteered for the king, now looked away uncomfortably.  Bellowing the King shouted out his orders.

The two girls that had come forward were made to crouch on their knees. The taller of the two made no attempt to resist as the King, thrusting his pelvis forward, placed his cock in her mouth. The other girl was made to lie down, naked, on her back, on the forest floor. She scooted forward once or twice so that the taller girl thighs met right above her mouth. The King instructed her to start licking. He instructed her not to stop until he said so. As the King stood there, the woman blowing him getting sucked off, he continued bellowing his orders.

Aparna was made to stand in the centre of the clearing with her legs spread. Her hands were tied to a solid root dangling from the canopy of roots above. Another girl, a fair girl that Aparna recognized as Tanya, a baker from the village, was instructed to stand behind Aparna and to ‘rub her till she comes’. Tanya looked down, tears welling up in her eyes as she silently walked behind Aparana. With her feet she separated Aparna’s legs by about an arms length. She pressed her naked body against Aparna’s. Her right hand reached around Aparna’s slim curvy waist, down over her black clumps of pubic hair, and finally settled between her legs. Tanya’s fingers began to hum at a barely noticeable pace. 

Aparna stiffened. She felt another wave of pressure working its way down through her. She tightened her buttocks quickly, but with her legs so far apart, it didn’t do much.

The King, drunken orgasmic bliss on his face, ordered the two remaining girls to squat on the ground. He ordered them to stay there squatting until he told them to stand.

Minutes passed silently, interspersed with only soft moans. Tanya’s fingers were magical. They seemed to know when to go slower and when to hurry up. They toyed with the sweating struggling Aparna who writhed in magical agony and painful cramps. Very soon, Tanya’s fingers had reduced Aparna’s crotch to a wet hairy mess. Aparna’s  natural lubricant dampened her upper thighs and splashed on her pussy when Tanya increased the pace.

The girl who was sucking the King’s dick wasn’t doing all that great a job. She kept writhing desperately, and pulling back to utter,

“Please, my  Lord! …..”, before having his dick pushed back into her mouth. The girl beneath her was licking frantically. She even had her hands up, over the girls waist, as if trying to pull the pussy closer to her mouth.

The moans of one of the young farm girls  was far from ecstatic however. For Shrishi, the poor girl who’d been made by the King to squat, It was a loud jarring tearful moan. A moan of relief and defeat. A moan that did little to cover the hiss of her pent up piss tearing through the dusty rooted floor.

Everyone turned and looked at the river escaping from Shrishi’s groin. Even the full-bladdered girl with the King’s cock in her mouth turned a little to the side, her eyes at the corner of her head, to see what was making all the disturbance. The King noticed it too and bellowed,

“STAND!!!”

Shrishi tearfully and slowly rose to her feet. Her stream faltered, for just a moment, as she tensed every muscle in her body to hold back the flood. She looked at the ground with her scrunched up face and sobbed for just a matter of seconds.

Just like that Shrishi’s bladder gave way once again. The stream continued with the same strength as before as it torrented down her legs, dripping off her calves onto the roots. As the sound of her bladder emptying itself filled the early morning air, Aparna felt another wave run through her bowels with intense force. She clenched her muscles and her fists tightly, determined to hold off this wave.

As the pressure drew closer and closer to its endpoint, Aparna began to waver. She was clenching so tightly that her face was red, yet she still knew that it wouldn’t be nearly enough for the shit storm raging inside of her.  In the background she could hear some commotion from the two girls who were with the king. Her bowels though, were to urgent to distract.

A long high pitched moan followed a soft whimper from the girl sucking the kings dick. Almost immediately the girl lying beneath began to squeal and shout, flailing her limbs in an effort to get out from between the other girl’s legs. Despite her desperation, Aparna turned to look.

Aparna watched as a river of piss began to flow out of the girl sucking the king. From the angle at which Aparna was, all that she could see was the girl’s large brown ass, the thick yellow stream bursting out of it, and the smaller girl squirming out of the thighs’ chokehold. As the girl underneath got up, drops of piss spilled from her mouth. She spat violently on the ground repeatedly. The other girl, was crying loudly, as she sucked the Kings dick faster and faster.

A small squirt of liquid shit had made it past Aparna’s defences, dampening the hairy space between her two brown round butt cheeks. Determined not to soil herself like the other girls, she forced her legs together and tensed her buttocks. Tanya however, had her hand trapped in the vicelike grip of Aparna’s thighs. With her feet, Tanya separated Aparna’s legs and began rubbing her pussy with renewed vigour. She pressed her pubes and her breasts against Aparna’s back and whispered,

“Just fake it. Quickly! The sooner the better. It’ll all be over then.”

If Tanya had seen Aparna’s face though, she would have known that there was no chance. As she didn’t know though, Tanya kept rubbing faster and faster. Aparna was forced to face the wave of desperation with her legs wide open, a hand on her crotch and a hairy pussy on her ass.

Aparna was able to delay the wave by just 2 seconds before it shot out of her. A loud unfeminine groan spilled out of her as she emptied her liquidy bowels on Tanya’s feet. Wave after wave of diarrhoea shot out of her, some even getting on Tanya’s thigh.

At first, Tanya probably mistook the warm liquid for piss, as she continued to rub with unhampered intensity. It was only a second or two later, once the smell hit her nostrils, that Tanya stepped back horrified.

Aparna grunted once more and, in her standing position, spewed a semi-solid squirt of shit onto the roots below. The King’s face contorted as he shot his load into the soiled girl’s mouth.

The King wiped his brow, retied his Dhoti, and turned to leave. As he was  on his way out he saw Aparna, still tied up and shitting manically onto the growing pile atop a clump of roots. He gave one final look of lustful malice and disappeared through the wall of roots.

 

 

The moment that the king was out of the rooted chamber, the girls jumped to their feet and running into a  corner, relieved themselves. The loud hiss of 4 bladders being emptied in unison drowned out Aparna’s pitiful cries.

It is well known by all the ancient religions that banyan trees share a deep spiritual connection with the divine.  As Aparna stood there weeping, a force entered her, a force that all watching could feel but none could describe. It was something life changing. Aparna felt revitalized.

She looked up once more, but this time her face was not one of shame and humiliation, it was one of vengeance. She would right the wrongs perpetrated against her! She would punish the man that had done this to her! She would make him feel the way that he had made her feel! She would have revenge!!

As the girls’ streams were winding off, Aparna let a weak stream that she had been holding in out of her. She spread her legs and watched, a wretched smile on her face, as the stream of piss pit-pattered on the mossy roots below. She began to laugh, a manical righteous laugh!

She would have Justice!

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

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  • 2 weeks later...

The teens snapped back to the stuffy smoky dining room in the farmer’s house, looking at each other bewildered. All of us, Lakshmi, Aishwarya, Shruthi, Deeksha and I were feeling disorientated.

The family however looked completely nonchalant. Hrithik, the old man’s son sat quietly on the side. Shruthi, the daughter, was nowhere to be seen.

The old man laughed in his usual careless manner and told Deeksha that this happens whenever one hears the story for the first time. He patted her on the shoulder jovially, and made a pakka sign with his fingers while chortling. Deeksha told us but this did little to help our disorientation.

Less than a minute after waking up from the dreamlike trance, Lakshmi’s need made itself felt again. It began as a swollen bulge, gigantic yet subdued. But as the its minutes went on, urgency increased exponentially till Lakshmi was forced to rock back and forth in her awkward sit / squat position. It took all of her concentration to keep her bladder in check.

Deeksha and the rest of the teens were asking question after question to the evasive old man. He in turn would repeat the questions to his hunchbacked wife, lighting incense sticks and mumbling to herself in a dingy corner of the room. Lakshmi was far too desperate to sit around and act like nothing was wrong. Already her incessant rocking had earned her a curious glance or two from both the old man as well as the others at the table.

The stifling heat in the room accumulated beneath the tight denim fabric of her jeans and added to her discomfort. She felt a small leak escape from her, not a forceful squirt but a warning dribble. Her dark olive green underwear dampened noticeably.

Lakshmi coughed once or twice to try and get Deeksha’s attention, but Deeksha was having none of it. As if on purpose, she ignored Lakshmi’s signals. Finally, unable to hold it any longer, Lakshmi interrupted the conversation,

“ Uh… Excuse me…Sir?, the old man turned around.

Unsure of how to ask, Lakshmi stuttered,

“Um… Bathroom?? Toilet????”. The old man smiled and nodded but it was clear that he wasn’t understanding anything.

Hrithik, the man’s fit muscular son, spoke up.

 “You need to use the bathroom?”, Hrithik asked in fluent English.

Lakshmi nodded. Hrithik gestured for her to follow him and led her outside of the house.

Lakshmi was on top of the world. She felt as if her bladder would give out any moment. She honestly hadn’t expected to be able to hold it this long, or to make it to a toilet. After witnessing Rohit’s humiliating accident inside, she had resigned herself to such a fate. This was a welcome change for her.

Hrithik led her to a small shoddily crafted shack about a minute away from the house. Hrithik gave a heart melting shy smile and said,

“Well, that’s it. It’s nothing fancy but it’s better than nothing right?”

Lakshmi, so close to relief began to waver. Her defences down, her aching bladder shot a high pressure second long squirt out of her, dampening her now soaked olive panties. Her hand involuntarily shot between her legs.

She prayed desperately that Hrithik hadn’t seen her. As she turned towards his face though, she knew that he had seen her hold herself. He had averted his eyes politely as she looked but had done it a fraction of a second too late. Lakshmi had seen. And he had seen her.

Embarrassed as Lakshmi was, her pounding distended bladder took priority as she sheepishly smiled and wordlessly turned away from Hrithik to open the door. She reached out and put a trembling hand on the cold steel handle of the outhouse door and pulled, but it didn’t budge.

Instantly her heart beat faster. She wouldn’t make it. Her panicking bladder involuntarily released another long squirt of liquid, soaking her damp panties to the point that it appeared as a small strip on the inner side of her left thigh.

Hrithik had already stepped up to the door and knocked on it, asking who was inside. From inside, his sister’s voice sounded clearly. Hrithik turned to Lakshmi and , with a troubled look on his face, said,

“I’m sorry, but my sister’s inside. I think she’s showering … or something. She said she’ll be out in 5 minutes. Could you….???”

The streak on Lakshmi’s thigh grew noticeably larger as another longer squirt was forced out of her. She felt almost as if she had no control over her body anymore. She turned her face to Hrithik and struggled to speak,

“I….”

Hrithik saw the hopelessness on her face before he saw the widening patch on her jeans. He heard her surrender before he heard the sound of her urine falling off her legs onto the grass.

Piss shot out of Lakshmi in unimaginable quantities. Her face was blushed bright red with shame as she breathed heavily. She could feel herself emptying the contents of her bladder into her Levi Jeans. She felt the burning warmth on the joining of her thighs as it rushed out of her, an uninterrupted stream. She felt it flow down her legs, accumulating near the hollow of her knee only to spill off her claves onto the cold grass ground below.

Hrithik’s kind and welcoming attitude had been discarded completely. He took a step back, and scanned Lakshmi from top to bottom with his eyes several times, and incredulous expression plastered on his face.

The sound of the house door opening crushed the awkward silence between Hrithik and Lakshmi. Aishwarya stepped out of the house, accompanied by the kind old man. The old man pointed towards the outhouse and walked closer, accompanying Aishwarya. As Aishwarya and the old man drew closer, the reality of what was happening struck them.

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  • 2 weeks later...

As the old man and Aishwarya walked closer and closer towards the outhouse, Lakshmi remained transfixed, still clutching her crotch tightly as a dying stream of urine ran down her legs. Hrithik stood aghast, watching in horror and at a loss for words.

Lakshmi was past the point of caring. The prolonged agony of her desperation had made her involuntary release blissful, almost orgasmic. For just a moment she didn’t care about Hrithik, about Deeksha, about the stream running down her thighs. For just a moment she was content. But as her stream dripped to a faltering halt and the cold tight wet denim of her jeans clung to her legs in the midnight forest air, she was forced to return to the humiliating reality.

 The old man and Aishwarya were now less than 5 paces away from her. The realisation of what had transpired dawned on Aishwarya before the old man. Her steady pace faltered as she slowed down, stopping a metre or so away from Lakshmi. Even in the darkness of the forest night, Lakshmi’s wet jeans were clearly visible, illuminated by the flickering yellow bulb that hung by a wire from the dilapidated toilet shack.

Aishwarya was at a loss for words. She knew that this didn’t bode well for them, for any of them.

Sure enough, when the old man realised what had happened, his expression darkened considerably. His tell-tale carefree face was noticeably ashen.  He stood there, stunned for a matter of seconds, before hurling a volley of Pundali abuses at Lakshmi and Aishwarya before storming away from the duo, back into the house.

The moment that the old man was out of earshot, Aishwarya turned to Lakshmi and asked accusingly,

“What the Hell Lakshmi!! You know these people are superstitious about …… that kind of stuff”. Aishwarya trailed off, looking awkwardly at the ground.

Lakshmi was in no mood to be judged. A day wandering around lost in the forest, followed by a nerve wrecking  four hour wait to use the bathroom and now THIS, had left her nerves and her decorum frayed.

“What the FUCK are you trying to say Aishwarya? Do you think I did this on purpose!?”, Lakshmi shouted, tears welling up in her eyes as her voice cracked.

The girls’ argument was interrupted by a commotion coming from the house. The door of the house was flung open. The light pouring out from within the home silhouetted the figures of Deeksha, Sanjana, and the other members of their group being literally pushed out by a livid old man and his screaming wife.

The group converged with the two girls near the outhouse. The old man stepped back and continued to shout relentlessly, not even pausing to take a breath. Everyone turned to Deeksha to interpret but it was clear that she didn’t understand half of what was being said.

Hrithik stepped forward from behind Lakshmi and spoke up.

“Leave. Now. All of you.  You’ve brought bad luck to our house and our village. You’ve disrespected our shrine and our goddess. You’re lucky to be leaving here in one piece. Now go.”

Lakshmi stepped forward and implored, “But please Hrithik! Can’t we just stay the night?? We have nowhere to go…..”

Hrithik gave Lakshmi a firm shove and storming past her, walked into the house with the old man and his wife.

The teens were enveloped in complete and utter silence, interspersed only by the chirping of the crickets in the forest.

“Well…..”, Deeksha spoke up, “ That happened.” She cast a condemning look at Lakshmi.

Given the mood Lakshmi was in, she was not going to let this slide. She shot back angrily,

“If you have something to say then fucking say it Deeksha!”.

It was obvious that this was about to turn into a full blown fight unless someone stopped them. Sanjana stepped up from the back and spoke,

“Alright guys calm down. Put your heads back on your shoulders and let’s try to figure out what to do.”

Nobody said anything in protest so Sanjana continued.

“Maybe it’s just me ….. but I genuinely feel that something …… strange …… is going on. I’m not one to believe in ghosts and witches and whatnot, but I really feel that we may have been cursed.”

Deeksha laughed and condescendingly replied,

“Ha! What’s wrong with you Sanjana… Cursed it seems! Why would you think that??”

Sanjana looked at the ground and scratched the back of her neck awkwardly.

“Well……for starters, two of us did have ….. accidents ….. tonight. Just like the witch, predicted we would…”

Everyone looked down at the ground awkwardly. Sanjana continued,

“Alright. How many of you guys feel that something supernatural is involved in all of this. I mean, that lady did fucking FLY.”

Lakshmi and Rohit were the first to put their hands up, followed suit by Aishwarya and the rest of us. Only Deeksha remained, stubbornly keeping her hand down.

Sanjana surveyed the hands held high and concluded,

“Okay. So, if there is a witch who is using some supernatural force to make us ….. humiliate ourselves, it seems logical that the best way to prevent it is to not allow ourselves to get desperate. Whenever any of us feel the need to go, we should all help that person find a way to go. It may not always be conventional, or even socially acceptable, but I think that we can all, Lakshmi and Rohit more than the rest of us, agree that it’s better than the alternative. Ensuring that we never allow ourselves to get desperate is the only way to foil the witch’s plan. So guys, from here on out:

when in need, relieve.”

 

We all looked astonished at Sanjana, amazed by her brilliance and her oratory skills. She had made not peeing our pants sound as epic and bad ass as going into battle against a supernatural flying witch. Everyone apart from Deeksha nodded their heads in agreement.

Sanjana smiled ever so slightly, glad that somebody at least was finally taking her advice. Spurred on, she continued, lowering her voice just a little.

“Good. Now that we’ve got that sorted, does anyone need to use the bathroom?” Sanjana gestured towards the toilet shack.

“It’s locked”, Lakshmi butted in. “I think Shruthi, you know, the old man’s daughter, is inside.”

There was silence for a matter of seconds before Sanjana spoke,

“Well……we’ve got to leave here now.  I for one don’t think we should hold it. That’s pretty much the same as giving ammunition to the witch you know…..I think we should….I think we should……”.

Sanjana took a deep breath and repeated,

“When in need, relieve.”

In light of Sanjana’s motivational speech given mere minutes earlier, nobody raised any objections. Sanjana took the silence to be a positive response. Her eyes began to scan the forest hill around them for a large bush or a hedge of shrubs: something that could double as a bathroom wall. A large banyan tree caught her eye. Its trunk was wide, easily about 5 feet in diameter. To its left there was a small bush, extending the overall cover to about 7 feet.  It would be a tight fit, but Sanjana realised it would have to do.                                                    

Sanjana didn’t need to say anything. She began walking towards the large trunk of the banyan tree, a light hurry in her steps. Everyone quickly caught on and began following her 1 by 1.

Aishwarya, who had earlier asked the old man for the whereabouts of the washroom, was far more desperate than she seemed. Much the same as the rest of them, she hadn’t had a proper chance to relieve herself in a while.  The moment that she saw Sanjana heading for the tree, she began to follow suit, already untying the strings that kept her salwar tied oppressively around her waist.

The moment Sanjana was in the cover of the tree, she yanked up her T-shirt and frantically unbuttoned her khaki hiking shorts. She too, was much more desperate than she had appeared. All that water she’d drank during the hike couldn’t go nowhere!

As soon as her shorts were unbuttoned, she pulled them down, till her mid thighs, while simultaneously dropping into a low flat-foot squat, with her dark brown ass hovering just an inch or two from the muddy forest floor. Immediately a gentle yet never-ending stream began to quietly trickle out of her, almost silently forming a small puddle beneath her in the mud. She softly exhaled with relief.

Aishwarya neared the corner of the banyan tree and was in the final stages of untying her salwar. She bit her lower lip lightly, distorting her face cutely. She didn’t understand how she suddenly had to go so badly. Sure, she’d gotten off the bullock cart needing a pee, but once she realised how low the chances of that were, she’d resigned herself to hold it. Maybe it was just the proximity of relief that was responsible for squirting her panty -less thighs with a sudden explosive burst of urine.

As Aishwarya turned the corner of the banyan tree, she was in the last seconds of her hold. Her flawless damp brown thighs rubbed together frantically under her baggy salwar as she wiggled agitatedly. Her undivided attention was allocated to tensing her bladder, to hold it in for just a second more. The outside world flew past her, as if in a daze; so much so that a quietly pissing Sanjana to her left didn’t warrant even a second glance.

Aishwarya took just one step from the corner of the tree. She was still almost on the corner as she untied the last knot in her salwar, letting it fall. The baggy salwar kamiz, no longer tied oppressively to Aishwarya’s waist, fell to her ankles in the blink of an eye. As the salwar fell, revealing her naked legs inch by inch, Aishwarya deftly dropped into an athletic squat as her bladder sprayed another jet. She perched herself on her toes rather than on the soles of her feet, subsequently rendering her more manoeuvrable.

Immediately, Aishwarya allowed her tortured bladder relief. A thick solid stream burst out of her, flying a foot through the air before noisily splattering into the mud. However, her pressurized pee stream was flying over, rather than under, her salwar pants, which lay crumpled around her ankles. At the current speed with which she was pissing, the stream was passing cleanly over the crumpled pants, without as much as a drop touching the fabric. Aishwarya knew though, that she should be peeing underneath. Towards the end of her pee, as the stream would begin to falter, the pants would get torrentially drenched by the remaining contents of her bladder.

Aishwarya took a deep breath and cut off her stream. All at once the loud splattering hiss of liquid tearing up the forest floor was silenced. Holding her breath (lest her bladder control escape with it), she deftly reached out with her right hand, grasped the salwar dangling between her ankles lying in the mud, and yanked it upwards in a fluid motion. At the same time, using the flexibility her toe-squat allowed her, she spread her legs slightly, increasing the distance between her knees by at least a foot. This held the salwar taut around her calves, safely out of danger.

The very instant that Aishwarya’s salwar was out of danger, her stream resumed. As the piss burst out of her underneath her stretched salwar, and onto the grassy roots, Aishwarya involuntarily let out a loud moan. Her heart rate began to subside and she took deep breaths. Her notice of her surroundings increased as her bladder emptied: it was as if she was finally returning to reality.

She saw Sanjana about an arm’s length or two to her left, smiling amusedly at her. Aishwarya weakly returned the smile. Her piss had formed a small stream, overflowing its way through the mud and circling downhill around the corner of the banyan tree.

The soft squelchy sound of someone walking through mud made Aishwarya and Sanjana turn towards the corner to see who was approaching. As the figure turned the corner, Aishwarya and Sanjana could easily discern the figure of Lakshmi, holding a pair of jeans out in front of her and walking strangely.

Lakshmi turned, and noticing the two girls pissing, quickly averted her eyes. She meekly spoke,

“ I just needed to change… my jeans are quite fucked.”, she laughed softly.

“Go ahead, it’s cool.”, Sanjana spoke up from the corner.

Lakshmi nodded and gingerly walked past the squatting Aishwarya who’s stream still splashed about a foot in front of her. Deftly dodging the stream, Lakshmi stepped over a patch of grass and into the cover of the bush of shrubs that extended the cover of the tree.

Lakshmi took the clean pair of jeans that she’ been holding out in front of her, and draped them over a protruding branch. She began to unbutton her jeans without as much as a hint of hesitation. Aishwarya remained squatting, the reservoirs of piss still shooting out of her made it impossible for her to leave. She felt extremely uncomfortable, though she was unsure why. Her eyes flittered from left to right, not sure of where to look.

Lakshmi began to peel off her tight wet jeans. In the breezy forest night, they clung to her skin like ice. She pulled them down to just below her knees, and then began to hold them in place while she stepped out of them. Her waxed shapely thighs were fully on display, all the way from her knees to her green panty-line.   As she got her second foot out of the soaked jeans, she kicked them off and draped them over the banyan branch, right next to the clean dry pair of jeans.

Lakshmi reached for her panties, obviously hoping to get this part over with as soon as possible. Aishwarya’s heat began to beat faster. As if drawn by some irresistible force, her eyes kept drifting back to the sensual figure of Lakshmi reaching for her panties. Eventually, her self-constraint lost the battle.

Her eyes snapped onto Lakshmi as the latter yanked her panties down to her calves and kicked them off into the mud, revealing an unexpectedly hairy, yet well maintained bush. In the dark night, the pitch-black curly pubic hair was all that Aishwarya was able to see before Lakshmi had pulled on the clean pair of jeans.

Lakshmi smiled weakly at Aishwarya who was in the last seconds of her piss. Aishwarya reciprocated the smile and, looking up at Lakshmi from her squat, spoke.

“Hey Lakshmi, sorry about what I said back there…. Outside the outhouse. I really didn’t mean to be that rude….it’s just….I don’t know what came over me…. I’m really sorry.”

Lakshmi smiled back kindly and replied,

“Don’t worry about it Aishwarya. I understand. I’m sorry for shouting back at you ….. I was just… kind of pissed…”, Lakshmi broke off giggling softly at the unintentional pun. Aishwarya couldn’t help but laugh as well and a chuckle from her left showed Sanjana had found it quite funny as well.

Lakshmi turned and walked away, down and around the corner of the banyan tree, taking care not to step in the small river formed by Aishwarya’s pee. As Lakshmi tip-toed down the slope, Aishwarya rose to her feet, pulling the salwar back up around her legs.

Aishwarya felt light and happy, both physically and emotionally. Apologizing to Lakshmi was like a massive weight lifted from her chest. She smiled at Sanjana, who was still squatting to her left, a steady trickle still flowing from between her legs into the large puddle that had now formed beneath her. Sanjana reciprocated the smile. Aishwarya turned and walked don around the banyan tree, striking up a conversation with Lakshmi who was standing there.

Sanjana, still peeing, ended her stream by lightly tensing her bladder. It had always been like this. Ever since she was a young girl, she’d always been the last to finish peeing, regardless of who she was with. Sometimes, when she was really desperate, she’s peed for a good four minutes straight! The thought of her peeing for so long instinctively gave her a flashback of the time that she had unintentionally let her ex-boyfriend mess his jeans as she sat on the commode pissing after a long night of drinking. She hasn’t even known that his stomach was upset but he was convinced she’d done it intentionally. She sighed with guilt at the thought and quickly pushed it out of her mind. She shook her butt, wiggling it from side to side to shake off an clinging drops of urine, and standing up, pulled up and re-buttoned her khaki shorts.

The entire environment had change drastically in a matter of minutes.  From a bunch of unhappy teens at each other’s throats, the group had gone to joking around with each other as they walked through the forest. Chatty and jolly, one would never be able to guess that they had just been thrown out of a house.

But there was one among their company who’s countenance was far from such. Deeksha paced ahead of the group unhappily, arms crossed across her chest. For reasons of her own stemming from forgotten places deep in her childhood, Deeksha absolutely hated being forced to relieve herself in the open. For her, there was no greater impunity. In addition to that, her period had started this morning, before they had left to trek in the woods. Her clothes sticky with grime and sweat, her stomach racked with cramps, and her bladder uncomfortably full, Deeksha was on the verge of tears. She felt absolutely horrible and annoyed with everyone and everything. She would give anything, anything, just to be back at home with a bed to herself.

A tear fell down Deeksha’s right cheek as she walked. She tried her best to breathe quietly so that the people behind her wouldn’t hear her sob. Sympathy was the last thing that she wanted right now. This day had been the worst, the absolute worst! Another tear rolled down her cheek. All that she wanted, all that she needed was for things to get a little bit better. Was that really so hard??

__________

Meanwhile, back at the banyan tree, the shadowy sari clad figure of the witch approached. Ever since the traumatising event involving the king and the countless other farmer girls had happened hundreds of years ago beneath a banyan, the witch found that she shared a special link with these trees. Sometimes she could hear what they hear, feel what they feel….. but it was iffy to say the least. There was no telling when this link would come or go, even for her.

However, this time, the link had been crystal clear. A speech to the extent of “When in need, relieve”, had played in the witch’s mind. From the moment that it started, she knew that it was coming from a banyan tree. She had listened in shock and horror as that human whore (Sanjana , her friends had called her) plotted to thwart her plans, plotted to derail the revenge she’d worked so hard for. Then as if to confirm her suspicions, the witch had felt what the tangled roots of the banyan tree had felt: warm piss running over, around, and through them as the girls had relieved themselves behind the banyan tree.

The witch walked behind the banyan tree, turning the corner. She saw a puddle of liquid further away escaping through countless small rivulets that drained down the embankment. Her eyes fell on the abandoned green panties that lay discarded beneath a thorny bush. Reaching down, she picked them up and lifted them to her nose. Piss. It smelt like piss.

The witch trembled in anger. The banyan had been right! There was no doubt about it!! Those girls, led by that fucking whore Sanjana, were out to thwart her!!!

  A livid tight-lipped smile lit the witch’s face. Those girls had no idea what was coming for them. The witch cracked her knuckles as she broke out into a twisted megalomaniac laugh.

Shit was about to get Real!

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