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female The Poles (3rd Zelda story)


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Hey all -- the Zelda series is back :)

Links:  1st story     2nd story

 

THIRD STORY

PART 1/5

Daisy sat in class.

It was 6:50 PM, ten minutes before class ended. Although the professor was ignoring the fact, almost all the students in class were getting ready to go – they were gathering pencils, closing books and binders, and chattering amongst themselves.

Daisy sighed. Even in college, such immaturity ran rampant among her idiot peers.

Well, that wasn't fair. This was only the generic history class, not part of anyone's major; it was full of sophomores and AP- and IB- carrying freshman. Daisy was a senior; she had put off her history requirement twice. She didn't regret doing so, as her reasons had been sound, but she sure didn't enjoy sitting through the class now. She noted with satisfaction that her friend Luna, who had also put it off, was still sitting as raptly as Daisy herself was.

“Psst. Hey, Astra,” Luna whispered.

'Astra' was the only nickname Daisy answered to, and only when it was coming from Luna. It came from 'Asteraceae', the scientific name for daisies (Luna studied botany).

“What?”

“Are you okay? You've been shifting around in your seat.”

Daisy quickly uncrossed her legs and stopped moving them around. Imagining herself as appearing a bit ruffled, she re-arranged her hair, then pulled the bottom edge of her shirt down around her waist and smoothed it.

“Yeah,” she said. Luna turned back to the lecture.

No. Daisy badly needed to empty her bladder, and she had for some time. It was becoming unbearable. She'd calculated ahead of time that she would be able to hold it until she got back to her dorm – the place with the cleanest bathroom and therefore the logical place to pee – but that didn't lighten the burden of such a full bladder.

But Daisy had confidence. She knew exactly what her bladder could handle, and right now she was definitely in the OK zone. She would wait until the end of class, walk to the bus stop and wait for the bus, endure the five-minute ride to the dorm building, and pee in her own dorm's toilet. The thought made her bite her lip in anticipation despite herself.

Daisy realized she hadn't been paying attention, and with a little blush she turned her attention back to the professor.

At the end of ten minutes, Daisy heard seven distant rings of the large town bell announcing that evening had set in. She, Luna, and a few other diligent students tidied up their things into neat, practical packages while everyone else, having already swept their piles of stuff into their backpacks, stampeded for the door. The diligent students were the last ones out, but they didn't mind; virtue was its own reward.

Daisy parted ways with Luna at the doorway. Luna had another class and went right, while Daisy, headed for the dorms via the campus bus, went left. She stood by the but stop's bench and absent-mindedly held the railing. No one else was there, but she still didn't want to sit; her butt hurt from sitting in class for two hours, and the bench was probably dirty anyway. And if she was honest with herself, changing position first to sit and then to stand back up to board the bus would have made it harder to contain her pee.

Daisy recognized four stages of a hold, although her stages were purely nominal. The first stage was when her urgency could be described as a “1” on a scale from 1 to 4, the second stage a “2”, and so forth. Nothing was qualitatively different between the stages; she only enumerated them because it was a useful basis for creating mental shortcuts: I can practice violin at 3 or below; the bulge is visible at 2 and above.

She was in stage 4 right now, but of course at any stage she kept her composure; it wasn't logical to distract others with one's own needs.

She crossed her legs and awaited the arrival of the bus.

Roughly across town, in Amperage theater, a magician materialized in the center of the stage and took her place at the microphone, unphased by her sudden change of existential status, to the great amusement of the crowd, who cheered.

“Good evening, good evening!” she called. “I, Jill the Chill, will be entertaining you for the next two hours with various acts of questionable possibility!”

A bowling ball fell out of her sleeve and crashed into the floor. Jill picked it up and balanced it on her pinky finger, demonstrating that it was now feather-weight, then tossed it up in the air, where it became a raven and flew away. More cheers.

The show continued for an hour. Imperceptibly to the audience, Jill was becoming more and more uncomfortable.

“There will be a brief intermission now,” she announced. “Get food, get water, pee...and then come back for the second half!” The crowd cheered once more, then about half of it made for the refreshments/bathroom area.

The curtain closed, and Jill wiped some sweat off of her forehead. The first part of the show had gone splendidly, especially considering how badly she'd needed to pee. She'd wanted to go before the show began, but she had arrived a little late and got caught up in preparation, so she hadn't had time. Now she had to get ready for the next segment, and wouldn't have time to use the backstage toilet. Aghh, she had been holding for over three days! Couldn't she be granted a break?

But no, no matter how hard she tried, she could pull only rabbits out of hats, not extra prep time. She loaded up her sleeves with cards, her shoes with coins, and her bosom with colored cloths. She looked longingly into the bathroom as she passed it on her way to get the last thing she needed – stilts – but alas, only two minutes remained until it was time to go back on. A pee like this would require at least four minutes to release, probably five.

But no matter! Jill the Chill was a magician, and magic if not luck had always come through for her in the end.

She tried to keep her hands away from her crotch as she awaited the rising of the curtain.

When Daisy got back to her dorm, she avoided making a beeline for the toilet, even though there was no one around to hide her urgency from. She just wanted to delay peeing until the next half-hour multiple to make the numbers work out more nicely for her notebook.

For a lack of anything else to do, she took out the notebook to record her entry early. Below the previous entry, dated January 10, she drew a separating line, and below that she wrote:

January 14, 2015

Time: 19:30

Duration:

Volume: not recorded

She would fill in the duration after she peed. The reason she put 'volume' at all when she knew she wouldn't be measuring was that she did measure about every four holds or so, and it made the whole page cleaner and more consistent to put in a place-holder for it every time.

She looked up at the wall clock: 7:25 (her roommate wouldn't let her set it to 24-hour time). For a moment she thought she'd made a mistake and would have to wait another hour before she peed, but then she realized she'd just converted the time from the wall-clock wrong. Daisy wondered idly what she would have done. She supposed she could have waited – humans erred, yes, but intelligent humans could avoid urinating on themselves – but she felt no guilt in going now anyway. After all, she would have to go eventually, lest her bladder explode inside her.

Actually, when she thought about it, she wasn't sure if she could have waited another hour. The load inside her was swelling threateningly, paining her more by the minute. Perhaps this was the hour in which her bladder would burst if it wasn't emptied.

Finally, it was time. Daisy took her notebook under her arm, stepped into the bathroom, and closed the door behind her. She pulled down her pants, sat on the toilet, and peed.

A minute later, she heard something over the sound of her stream which made her elf-like ears perk up: it was the sound of the bathroom door handle being turned just a bit before getting stopped by the lock. Someone, probably her roommate Kendall, needed to use the bathroom.

Daisy didn't usually let herself get excited in situations like this. An ordinary person would just wait for Daisy to get out of the bathroom, and then go in. But things were different with Kendall, as Daisy had realized a while ago. Kendall would not wait for the bathroom; she would just go on with her day and hold it. Furthermore, Daisy had learned a bit of the girl's schedule, and knew that her roommate would be going to bed right around now.

Excited and full of curiosity, but empty of pee, Daisy stood and pulled up her panties and jeans. She washed her hands, then plucked a single blonde hair off of her head, closed the toilet lid, and placed the hair on it so that it would fall away if anyone – if Kendall – opened it, but would otherwise stay in place. Kendall didn't like to use any bathroom except this one (Daisy liked that about her), so Daisy would be able to track reasonably well whether Kendall had peed even if she couldn't follow her the next day. She burned with curiosity about how long the other girl would last.

Just before leaving the bathroom, Daisy put her pencil to the blank space in her notebook entry and wrote 4 minutes, 22 seconds.

7:54 PM came and Jill was getting desperate. She paced about the stage as she moved various objects between upside-down cups, then revealed that they had teleported to other cups. This penultimate routine was almost over; she finished it off by turning over all the cups, revealing that the colored cloths had disappeared entirely, then, after a moment of suspense, reached into the front of her black suit and began pulling them out (their numbers having multiplied and their colors having brightened since their disappearance).

“And now,” she said into the microphone. “For my final trick...”

The crowd held its breath, and for a moment Jill forgot about her bladder situation, lost in the euphoria of performance.

“I will personally...disappear into thin air!”

She couldn't get distracted now. This was the hardest trick to pull off, and if she messed it up it would mean that all of her successes earlier tonight, despite being numerous and impressive, would be meaningless. The show as a whole could be no better than its final trick.

Therefore, as Jill readied herself to disappear, she clamped down on her bladder, allowing herself a one-second crotch-grab to make sure she was in control beforehand. So what if some people in the audience saw her? They loved her. She could get away with it once or twice.

Jill had control. The clock read 7:59, and the second hand was ten seconds away from the top of its arc. She held her breath and waited for the moment.

Backstage now, Jill heard the audience cheering loudly. The show had been a huge success, even for her, and she and her backstage helpers had pulled off a flawless end. But she had no time to stand around and exchange congratulations with them; another 30 seconds and she would be peeing her pants. She dashed to the bathroom backstage, but saw to her fright that it was occupied! She paused and danced on the spot, unsure how to proceed, when, as luck would have it, the occupant finished up and vacated the toilet.

Jill slipped past him and closed the door in one smooth motion, then leaped over to the toilet, yanked down her costume bottom and sat down.

Pee jetted out for over four minutes; Jill was immensely relieved.

On the morning of January 15, Daisy woke up feeling refreshed. It was a Thursday, meaning she only had one class. She pulled the covers off of her small body and swung her legs around to the side of her bed. Even though she had peed (and emptied her bowels) only 12 hours ago, she felt a mild fullness in her belly. She stood up and padded over to the bathroom in sock feet, taking a look at the sleeping Kendall as she passed. The hair on the toilet lid was undisturbed, so the other girl still had not peed.

Daisy took her showers in the evening, so her morning routine was only to brush her short blonde hair until it was nice and neat, then to apply a minimal amount of makeup. Once upon a time she had skipped makeup altogether – why be vain? – but gradually Luna had convinced her that, although it was vanity, it was the good kind.

Daisy looked at herself in the full-body mirror that she and Kendall had saved up for in their sophomore year. She saw a short, thin girl with blue eyes and a sharp chin, whose partly-combed blonde hair just touched her shoulders. There was also a coffee-colored stain on the front of her shirt, which was rare, since her small chest didn't stick out far enough to catch many drops.

She finished combing her hair in the mirror, then headed out to her dresser to get a new shirt. She picked out a purple polo with a breast pocket, and while she was at it, khakis. It was a young, how-may-I-help-you-today look that only nerd girls could pull off, according to a single, kind remark from Luna, and countless, countless snide remarks from others.

When Daisy went back into the bathroom to change and closed the door, her bladder finally spoke up and asked to be emptied. It used a quiet voice, which was proper: it had only been about half a day since her last pee, so, using her terminology, she was still in stage 1 of her hold. She poked herself in the belly when she had her shirt and pants off, and felt the urge worsen for a moment with each poke. She giggled, and put her clothes on.

She was just about to leave the bathroom for the morning when she remembered that she still had business in there: keeping Kendall out. Kendall's Thursday schedule required her to get out of bed now, then more or less stay out of the dorm until the end of Calculus class with Daisy, except for lunch. Daisy had just begun to ponder how long she should stay in here to wait for Kendall when she heard that beautiful sound of the doorknob turning an eighth turn, then catching on the lock and stopping. Oh, how Daisy had come to love that sound! She knew Kendall would still be here for a few minutes to brush her hair and gather her books and so forth, but she also knew that Kendall wouldn't be taking a shower today – she did that only every other day – so she had no excuse to wait for the restroom. She squatted in the bathroom until she heard Kendall leave.

Back out in the main living area, Daisy checked her planner and saw that she was to study both scripting and botany today. Her Calc IV class wasn't until afternoon, so, ever the early bird, Daisy grabbed the two textbooks and set out for the library.

Once there, she studied for two hours, sipping from a large cup of coffee all the while.

Jill didn't have a show today. Therefore, she slept until noon.

When she awoke, she sludged out of bed and rubbed her eyes, then stretched her arms and legs as far as they could go, yawning gigantically. She had slept in the previous day's clothes, as was her norm on show nights; when she finally arrived home at around midnight (shows typically ended at 8 or 9, were followed by a signing or some other meet-the-magician event, and then required cleanup) she was always exhausted enough to simply collapse onto her bed as she was.

She stood. “Routine” was too strong a word to describe her morning actions, but even she had a few things she did regularly: shower, change, comb hair. Naturally, peeing wasn't on that list, but she already felt a little liquid in her abdomen. After leaving the backstage bathroom the previous evening, she had realized just how thirsty she was and had more or less chugged a bottle of water, then grabbed a second one to have while signing shirts and talking to guests, and finally refilled the second one to drink while she worked on cleanup with the crew.

That made three bottles of water in her, minus whatever she might have sweat out since then. She ran her hand over her tummy, applying pressure to her bladder and trying to judge how long she'd make it if she kept that rate up. Not long, she guessed.

She stepped into the bathroom of her one-bed one-bath apartment, which was technically a stand-alone house. She rented it alone; the peace and quiet let her make shows of high enough quality that they paid for their own working-condition luxuries.

Jill undressed and stepped into the shower. The water was freezing at first, but she ignored it; it helped wake her up. So with the water making her shiver and need to pee, Jill washed herself. She first rinsed her hair, then began washing her body while it soaked. When she was washing her tummy, she pushed a little extra hard on her bladder for fun, and, despite the water being warm now, shivered again.

Once she had rinsed herself clean of the soap, she began on her hair. Her hair was long, prone to tangles, and made of thin strands, meaning, contradictorily, that she had to be both rough and delicate with it. She had mastered the art; no hair was lost in the process of cleaning it and applying a round of straightening.

After a total of 5 minutes, Jill stepped out of the shower. She stood on the shower mat, feeling its soft fur with her bare feet while swiping drips of water off of her skin. Some water ran down her front in a peculiar way such that it lept off of her skin just as it got to her lower belly, for a moment making it look like she was peeing.

What fun would she have with this hold? Her mind wandered to various possibilities – spend Sunday in public, lock herself out of the bathroom, etc. – and she began to get excited and impatient to get on to the good part. She took a glass from the sinktop and filled it with water, then chugged it down eagerly, spilling a little on her bare chest.

She was tempted to chug down four or five more glasses, but she resisted the urge. As much as she liked to torment herself, she wanted the hold to last four days this time. And on this special occasion, she knew exactly when her last pee had been: 8:01 in the evening, Wednesday night, right after her show had ended.

Jill stepped out into her living room, dry now, and walked to her dresser. She picked out a t-shirt and sweatpants, along with a purple bra and blue underwear. Then, not wanting to forget, she walked naked to a piece of paper lying on the table and wrote “Wed evening, 8:01” on it. Below, she wrote her goal: “Sun evening, 8:01”.

Then she put her clothes on.

After her initial study session, which lasted until 9:45, Daisy walked back to the dorm area and took the bus to the coffee shop for a break, a donut, and another coffee. The rationality of the bus system was pleasing to her: one pair of buses circulated between the main campus, the dorm area, and the mall in the center of town; another pair circulated up and down Main St., which was the backbone of the town.

At the shop, Daisy ordered a butternut donut and another large coffee. She had brought her laptop, and once she had her food she grabbed some napkins and sat down at a table to work on a paper that was due next Monday.

But wasn't she supposed to be taking a break? Yes; exchanging the plodding Botany book for an exciting mathematical essay had been, to Daisy, a break. Besides: she had been out of coffee for the last half hour, and having more allowed her to enjoy not only its flavor, but also some early fantasies about how it would feel when it got to her bladder.

Now it was noon. Daisy had returned to the library at 10 and worked through another 2-hour study session. The coffee had long since gone through her system, and although, she mused, a normal girl might be bursting to pee right now, Daisy herself felt only a small urge.

She piled her things up neatly, and walked back to the dorms. Hunger had set in; she considered eating at the dorm diner, but then decided to go out to eat instead. So, after putting her books back in their places, Daisy took the bus to the mall, then walked a short distance to get on one of the Main St. buses.

What did Daisy want to eat? The restaurants slid by slowly. Pizza? Tacos? Sub sandwiches?

Actually, tacos sounded good – she got off the bus and walked back to the restaurant.

When she walked in, five or six people were ahead of her. She thought she'd have to wait a while, but the adept cashier handled them all in well under three minutes. When it was her turn, she ordered her usual two soft tacos and large coke. She vaguely recognized the cashier from when she'd been here before: a small African-American girl with large green eyes. A bit of a belly...was that usually there?

To her left, she heard a piece of paper flapping in a draft, and by leaning slightly over the counter she could see that it was an “Out of order” sign on the bathroom door. She chuckled to herself upon reading it – who needed public restrooms anyway?

Daisy's food was ready soon.

Jill sat at her work table, which was also her food table. It was two in the afternoon; she had spent the first two hours of her day surfing the internet idly and chatting with some of her friends. She had thrown together a plate of nachos and now she was snacking on them as she got caught up on where she was in her latest show, a short play. She had been working on it for a couple of weeks now, and it was getting pretty close to done. It was at the stage (pun intended) where Jill could contact her co-workers and begin giving them preliminary orders for what props and costumes would be needed.

She couldn't have described the process she used to catch up, but she had one. There was this character, and that one, and there was that thing that he said to her, and…

…and then Jill was working away, unaware of the passage of time, unaware of the uneaten portion of her nachos, unaware of the feeling in her bladder of a little bit of pee already building up.

Daisy didn't like to study in the early afternoon, and since finals weren't for a while, she didn't have to today. She sat on her dorm bed, having just returned from lunch, and wondered what to do. Perhaps Luna was free to hang out? Daisy looked at her calendar.

It was not to be; a red line labeled “Luna dance class 1:30-3:00” ran through all the Thursdays. Maybe she would just practice violin.

Daisy heard footsteps coming up the hallway. She didn't really notice them at first, but when they stopped at her door she became interested. Who was it, she wondered?

As the doorknob began to turn, it clicked in Daisy's mind. She dashed across the room and into their shared bathroom just as Kendall swung the door open. Kendall would know she'd just gone in, but probably not that she'd done it in such a hurry.

She waited for the turn of the doorknob.

It didn't come.

She looked at the clock and saw it was forty-nine seconds past 13:40. She looked down at her feet and tapped her sneakers together idly a few times, counting the taps on her fingers to make sure it came out to a multiple of five. She thought about the slightly full state of her bladder and wished it would fill faster. The usual temptation to chug four liters of water descended upon her, but as usual she ignored it. She used to succumb to it, but she learned quickly that it always lead to a worse hold in the long run; the sheer quantity of liquid would make her feel sick to her stomach, and then the water would go quickly to her bladder, rushing her through stages 2, 3, and early 4 before she could enjoy them. Then she would be left in late stage 4, totally unsatisfied with the amount of holding she had done, but already needing to pee too badly to focus on getting work done, and thus being forced to go before she wanted to.

No, the early stages of a hold were necessary, if boring. Daisy needed them to get preemptively caught up on work that she wouldn't be able to do during stage 4, when she would be–

The doorknob turned, and clicked against the lock. Daisy put her ear to the door just soon enough to hear a breathy “dangit!” as a pair of feet stepped back from it. The floor creaked once, then again and again, but Daisy heard no footsteps...somebody was shifting their weight back and forth. Daisy's mouth went dry.

A minute later, the footsteps left the bathroom door, and Daisy heard the main door being opened and then closed. Kendall had needed to pee since at least last night, and this had been her last chance to go for several hours!

It was a while before Daisy could focus enough to play violin.

Jill emerged, as though from a long tunnel, out of her work. She had not finished the play today; an unexpected turn of events in the fictional world had delayed its end for a little longer while additional loose ends were tied up. It would probably require another two days of work.

Jill's first thought was of how she missed the days when she could begin work on a project with a more or less empty bladder and emerge only hours later bursting for a piss. Sure, she would need to drink a lot beforehand to make that happen, but it had been doable. Nowadays, the most she could hope for was a considerable, but not emergency-inducing, increase in urgency.

She went to get herself a bottle of pop from the fridge, intending to drink the whole thing. She knew the dangers of drinking too much too soon, but this seemed like it would be fine to her; she was thirsty anyway.

When Jill opened the fridge, she realized with a start that she was not only parched, but also starving. She looked at the clock and found to her surprise that it was 5:30 in the afternoon. She had worked for a solid three and a half hours. That was good time, even for her.

Well, this deserved a treat. She grabbed the pop and headed for the door; she was going out to eat.

What did she want? There was pizza, tacos, sub sandwiches...

Tacos sounded good. There was a Mexican restaurant near the end of Main St.

Actually – pizza.

Daisy considered camping out in her room to make sure Kendall couldn't slip in and pee before their class together commenced.

...She usually didn't get like this, but today she had her eyes dead set on seeing her roommate desperate to pee.

She decided not to do that, however. For one thing, she knew Kendall wouldn't have a chance to get back to the dorm to pee, as the girl had complained that she always had to rush from her last class to this one, and for another, she didn't want to be late herself. So, with a sigh, Daisy gathered up her books and pencils and headed for the door, hoping she hadn't made some error in calculations that would have allowed Kendall a chance to use the bathroom.

In the final hallway before her arrival at the classroom, it occurred to Daisy that she had to sit next to Kendall if she wanted to enjoy her desperation. She could only control this variable if she arrived after Kendall did, but before the seats around her were taken by randoms. She didn't know if Kendall was there yet, so when she got to the door she slowed to a crawl and peered in as she passed by, trying to see every seat at once. She didn't see Kendall.

Alright, plan B. Daisy would walk around a loop in the hallways and see if Kendall was there when she returned...but no, there was a flaw – if Kendall arrived very soon, all the seats near her could be taken by the time Daisy came around again.

Instead, she hatched another plan: she would stand outside the restroom until Kendall arrived. No one would take notice of a girl they didn't know waiting her turn to pee, and she could reasonably give up on waiting and head into class when Kendall arrived. (The reason Kendall couldn't use the very restroom that Daisy stood by was that it was quite unclean, and like Daisy Kendall was a little germaphobic).

Daisy backed up into the wall and leaned against it, then took out her phone and pretended to look at it as she kept an eye out for Kendall. She usually hated the thought of being seen waiting for the bathroom, but this time she didn't mind, because she didn't actually need to go. Well...she mostly didn't need to go. It wasn't urgent.

Finally Kendall came down the hall; Daisy looked only out of the corner of her eye, to avoid getting the girl's attention. She was one of the last ones to arrive, so although Daisy wanted to be more subtle, she had to dart in right behind Kendall in order to guarantee herself a spot. She did this, and, seeing that Kendall had taken a seat with only one empty seat next to it, hastily took that one.

The roomies made eye contact. Kendall smiled politely, and Daisy waved and said “Hi.”

“Hey.” Kendall shifted minutely in her seat.

The class was two hours long. Daisy still didn't know how badly Kendall needed to pee, and if she was going to enjoy watching she would need to keep an eye on that to find out soon. The larger girl hadn't noticed how uncharacteristic Daisy's wave had been – was she distracted already?

It didn't take as long as Daisy had expected for the level of Kendall's urgency to become clear. She had toughed out the first five minutes so stoically that Daisy feared she had managed to find a place to pee. But before long she had crossed her legs and began bouncing them up and down in place. Another minute later she stilled herself, but kept her legs crossed, and placed her spare hand in between her lower thighs; after yet another minute, she uncrossed her legs, leaned forward in her seat while biting her lip, and clutched her stomach. She sat up straight quickly and glanced around, then crossed her legs again with as much dignity as she could manage.

Daisy's mouth went dry. This was it. She had done it!

But Daisy wasn't one to wallow in success. No, her next step was to see if she could prolong Kendall's plight any longer. If she could get back to the dorm before Kendall, by being early or by making Kendall late, she might be able to make her skip yet another toilet visit.

Alternatively, even though this was Kendall's last class of the day, Daisy might be able to invent a reason that the girl couldn't return directly to her dorm when it was over.

She pondered the three options. Getting to the dorm early was easy: just excuse herself from class a bit before it was over. Making Kendall late was harder, but possibly more subtle: if Daisy left class early and ended up in the bathroom, Kendall would be suspicious – anyone could see that Daisy wasn't one to value bodily functions over education.

The third option offered endless possibilities, but there wasn't a clear path to take, nor even a clear question to be answered. How exactly could Daisy keep Kendall with her and away from their room? What kind of plan would she need to come up with?

After a moment's thought, it occurred to Daisy that she could ask Kendall out to dinner. Not necessarily on a date, just as friends (Daisy herself was bisexual, but she wasn't sure about Kendall). Were the two close enough for that to be feasible? Daisy didn't have the intuition to tell, but she suspected not; she hadn't made any prior efforts to forge a friendship with the girl.

What would it be? The seconds ticked away, and Daisy thought, and Kendall held.

“Kendall?”

Daisy snapped out of a trance, noticing first that Kendall had been called on, then that she had been raising her hand. Was she asking to use the bathroom??

Kendall asked a question about what the prof had been lecturing on, and as the prof answered, Daisy realized it had been safe all along. This wasn't high school. You didn't ask to go to the bathroom, you just went. And Kendall didn't go, she just waited. She even did so properly, without squirming, when someone like the prof was looking at her...but as soon as the prof went back to his lecture, Kendall began tapping her foot impatiently, and she bit her lip nervously from time to time. Besides turning Daisy on tremendously, this also worsened her need to pee, by the power of suggestion. She didn't need to do a silly bathroom dance, but her bladder stayed on her mind.

An hour passed, and Daisy was pretty sure Kendall's need had worsened. She kept her thick legs pressed together or crossed at all times; she kept biting her full lower lip; her wavy brown hair, left unattended while she squirmed, was beginning to get tangly; her pretty blue eyes darted around, as though a toilet would materialize on the wall or ceiling.

But only 30 minutes remained in class. Daisy would see some good holding action, yes, but it would be over before it could possibly result in a wetting – which Daisy would relish in. Obviously Kendall needed to pee badly, but it wasn't clear just how badly, nor whether she could be convinced to keep holding for longer. Normally, as thrice so far, if Kendall was denied access to a bathroom, she just skipped that visit. But of course, those had all been when she hadn't needed to go as urgently as she did now. Daisy would need a plan to make sure Kendall didn't insist on a bathroom break, or (even harder to prevent) use a bathroom besides the one in their dorm.

And how hard it was to think with Kendall squirming in her seat sexily right beside her! Such is the plight of a pee fetishist, Daisy mused.

She considered her options. A dinner date was the most viable among the outings to convince Kendall to go on. Even it had two complications, though: keeping Kendall from stopping for a pee at the dorm before they left, and keeping her from using a public bathroom while they were out. If Daisy had more time, she could take a stab at the latter issue by touring various restaurants and seeing if they had bathrooms or not, but lacking that, she had no way of knowing.

She was just about to scrap the idea when she remembered something with a start: the bathrooms had been closed at the restaurant where she'd eaten lunch! It wasn't a particularly dinner-y place, but they were college students; no one would blame her for taking someone there. She knew it was open late, too, having eaten dinner there before. Her bladder pricked her gently in memory of the time she'd had an accident there.

Only one problem remained: keeping Kendall from stopping at the dorm first to pee. And, of course, convincing her to come along in the first place. The former she could solve with a well-timed visit to the bathroom of her own, as long as Kendall kept to her normal method of trying once to get a bathroom break, then giving up immediately if she failed. Daisy couldn't know if she would or not, but she didn't think there was another way, so she had to wager everything on the hope that she would.

Finally, getting Kendall to come along at all. The direct approach was usually Daisy's favorite – “Hey Kendall, do you want to come get dinner with me?” – but she knew from experience that this wasn't always the most effective, nor was it the favorite of her audiences. Yet the only thing she could reasonably adorn the question with was a reason that the two should meet, and Daisy could think of none. To study? Not while eating. To plan a co-op project? No such project was assigned.

To get to know one another?

Why?

No, the only way to do it would be to ask directly. Ask directly, execute perfect timing to keep Kendall out of the bathroom a fourth time, then go to dinner and hope the bathrooms hadn't been repaired yet.

It was settled. Daisy would ask right after class was over, only twenty minutes from now.

Kendall's bladder seemed to be getting dangerously full by now. Daisy looked over to see that her legs were crossed and bouncing up and down slowly, and one of her hands kept wandering into her lap. As she watched, Kendall uncrossed her legs with something like determination, indicated by her light stomp after doing so, but after a minute of stoic stillness she was biting her lip and shifting this way and that, and after another her legs were crossed and bouncing again.

Daisy watched with increasing fascination as the reality of the situation sunk in deeper and deeper. She had butterflies in her stomach for the first time in as long as she could remember, thinking about taking Kendall to dinner and watching her squirm for as much as two hours more.

“Kendall?”

Daisy jumped again, and chastised herself for not being more attentive. Kendall had been raising her hand.

“How come taking the integral of the square isn't the same as taking the square of the integral? I mean, if you just...if you rearrange.” She flipped through some pages in her notebook.

The professor watched her for a minute, then said “I think I know where you're going with this, and I think a lot of people have the same question. Do you want to come down here and write what you're thinking on the board?”

Daisy looked back at Kendall just in time to see her hesitate for an instant before she rose from her seat, walked carefully up to the board, and began drawing some diagrams and equations. She stood perfectly upright with straight legs at first, and held this posture the whole time she was writing.

But Daisy too knew where she was going with this, and she knew that the explanation would be a long one – especially since it involved a subject they hadn't covered yet. Moreover, this prof was fond of bringing students down to the main platform to have little (or long) dialogs with them, for the purpose of explaining something to the whole class. Kendall had been daring to initiate a dialog in her current state (if she had even known she was doing it).

Kendall put the chalk down calmly and listened attentively as the prof spoke about the question. But as the minutes ticked past, Kendall's control started to slip. At first, she only crossed her legs slowly in place and put her hands on her hips, but by the end she was squirming around enough that others besides Daisy might have noticed that she needed to pee.

The professor said nothing of it, however, and before the last twenty minutes of class were up, Kendall returned to her seat. Daisy saw that she was red in the face and sweating – neither one obvious from a distance, but both quite clear now. Her control didn't rise above the bouncy crossed legs level for the rest of the class.

Finally, class ended. Daisy had, for once, gathered her things together a little early, so that she was ready to leave before Kendall. She met her at the door.

“Kendall!” she said.

Kendall stopped awkwardly and regarded her. “Oh...hi!”

“I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner with me tonight...?” It had come out with neither disastrous awkwardness nor suspicious glibness, but Daisy suspected she could have done better.

“Oh!” Kendall thought about it. Daisy wasn't sure what to say, but she suspected the cleanest option was just to let Kendall have a minute.

Her patience was rewarded. Kendall said “Uhmm...sure! Just let me stop by the dorm, I have to...drop off some things. Then we can go. Sound good?”

Daisy nodded. Phase one was complete.

They walked most of the way back to their dorm together, walking rather than waiting for the bus – Kendall's decision. Once within 100 paces or so, Daisy executed a plan she had come up with during that walk.

“Do you mind if I run ahead? These books are kinda heavy.”

“Go ahead.”

“Thanks.” Daisy closed the rest of the gap hastily and ducked inside. She darted about the room, doing several things in quick succession before Kendall arrived: put her books down, straighten her desk, grab her coat, and duck inside the bathroom. There, she put on her coat, brushed her hair, and generally tidied herself; she would need to be ready to go out as soon as she left the bathroom.

Kendall arrived. Daisy heard her footsteps go from the door to her bed, stand there for a minute while books were plunked down, then head for the bathroom. The handle didn't turn, but it might as well have; Kendall's footsteps stayed right outside the door, shifting back and forth as they had earlier that day, but more vigorously.

Daisy didn't budge. As planned, Kendall eventually left the door and opened her dresser to get her own coat, stood still for a minute to put it on, then began returning to the bathroom door. At that moment, Daisy came out, and just as Kendall was about to head into the open doorway, Daisy stepped into her path and interjected “Ready??”

It was the most beautifully timed social gambit Daisy had ever pulled off. Kendall visibly looked for a way to turn down Daisy's innocent, excited question in the negative, but gave up after three seconds.

“...yeah. Should we go?”

Daisy smiled – she couldn't not – and nodded.

They headed for the door.

END OF PART 1

Edited by SecretPerson
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PART 2/5

Back from dinner, Jill flopped onto her couch and tried to decide what to do. Her thoughts were interrupted by the unpleasant realization that flopping wasn't a great idea when she had just drank a large, fizzy drink with dinner. Her stomach churned and moaned, and only allowed a relieving belch with some encouragement.

Back to evening plans. What could Jill do tonight? She'd already done all the writing she could do today; it was an exhausting process.

Well, she could go get blackout drunk with her friends. Drunk-Jill wasn't as bad as someone who had just met Sober-Jill might think.

No, Jill remembered that her best friend Matt was busy tonight. Maybe tomorrow.

She looked reluctantly over at her piano, not wanting to practice, but unable to come up with an excuse.

...Fine. She walked over, sat down, and took out a music book – Chopin's Nocturnes. While playing, she remembered something she often forgot: how hard it was to focus on the music when she needed to pee even a modest amount. Piano-playing made her urge to pee twice as powerful.

She lapped up the feeling, and enjoyed the anticipatory mirage the doubled desperation showed her as her fingers played the familiar, beautiful melodies of the Nocturne in B-flat minor.

Daisy and Kendall stepped out into the night air hanging over the parking lot of their dorm. The girls could see their breaths, but their coats kept them warm. The bus wasn't in the lot, which would mean as much as a 15 minute wait.

“Do you want to walk?” Kendall asked.

Daisy looked at her. It would be a longer journey overall if they walked, but probably a more pleasant one too; the bus didn't always smell great.

“Sure.”

They set off in the direction of the restaurant. Sunset would be in front of them until they got to the mall and turned onto the other street. Daisy wondered if she could get somewhere by commenting on it, but she couldn't think of anything to say.

Then she recalled what the ambiance had made her forget: Kendall's bladder. She looked at her roommate, and tried to discern how she was feeling discretely. It didn't seem like Kendall was struggling to hold it, but she did look a little nervous – perhaps because of the deliberate way she looked ahead of herself, as though her only goal were to get where she was going.

When they reached the mall, the sun had set completely, and there was only a dim stroke of red lying on the horizon.

Daisy spoke up. “That was a...nice sunset.” The cold had taken her breath away.

Kendall responded at length, and distractedly...more so than could be explained by the cold.

“...yeah.”

They got to the restaurant. Immediately after walking in, Kendall began looking around. But due to the restaurant's odd shape, the bathroom door would be out of view even after they got to the counter, and could only be seen if they took a seat to the left. When another customer walked in, though, Daisy could hear the “Out of order” sign flapping around in the draft again.

Kendall crossed her legs tightly as she looked over the menu, and Daisy realized she was wearing sweatpants now. Daisy herself was still wearing her khakis, but she approved of the other girl's choice. Choosing comfort over fashion was the logical thing to do.

Kendall settled on a taco salad. Daisy usually got soft tacos, but having just had that for lunch she decided on nachos instead. When the cashier – a different one from earlier – came to the counter, Daisy ordered for both of them, and in doing so decided for Kendall that she wanted a large drink. Their order was ready soon, as the restaurant was almost empty. Daisy directed them to a table on the right, whence the bathroom wasn't visible, and sat in the seat that faced the bathroom, inducing Kendall to take the one facing away.

They ate slowly, Daisy slowed by a desire to prolong the evening, and Kendall presumably distracted by an increasingly urgent need to find a bathroom. Daisy watched the larger girl's stiff movements with fascination. Twice, Daisy dropped something on the floor in order to get a look at what Kendall was doing down below – crossing her legs? holding between them? – and both times she'd had her legs crossed. The first time, her hand was in her lap – the second time, in her crotch.

Finally, most of the way through the meal, Kendall stood up and said to Daisy “I'll be right back.”

Daisy nodded coolly and kept eating, but began to watch her roommate like a hawk the moment her back was turned. When she found the bathroom door, she grasped the handle before she noticed the sign. Finding it locked, she doubled over and clutched her stomach, and noticing it was out of order, she let out a moan that Daisy guessed she wasn't supposed to hear. She composed herself with a sigh, smoothed out her shirt in a self-calming way, and headed back to the table.

“Never mind.”

Daisy had already planned her response. “We can start heading back to the dorms if it's urgent.”

Kendall would have loved to do that, but Daisy knew she couldn't admit the pretense. “...No,” she said at length. “It's not that, I was just stretching my legs.”

“Okay,” said Daisy.

They continued eating. Kendall already hadn't been enthusiastic about her drink, but now she avoided it entirely. Her movements had become pained. When Daisy pulled her drop-the-spoon trick again, she saw that Kendall's legs were double crossed and her hand was jammed into her crotch, the whole mass bouncing up and down. Daisy tried to hide her immense interest, but at this point she was sure some had shown through.

When they were finishing eating, another idea occurred to Daisy. She didn't have time to think it through, but there wasn't much damage to be done if it didn't work.

“Do you want to go see a movie after this?”

Kendall looked at her, but broke eye contact quickly, biting her lip and looking down to one side. Conflict swam across her eyes.

“...No,” she said miserably. “I mean...I really do want to see a movie with you, but...it's late, and...and I have a lot of work, and...I just kinda wanna get back to the dorm at this point. Okay? Maybe some other time.”

Daisy nodded. “I understand,” she said, and hung her head a little. It was time to let the poor girl go. “Are you ready to get out of here?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

Daisy didn't know what to say, so she didn't say anything.

They left.

Lying on her bed that night – Kendall a few feet away on her bed, having peed intensely as soon as they'd gotten home – Daisy struggled to fall asleep, unable to push the day's events from her mind.

Jill usually slept in. But today, when she woke up and willingly got out of bed, it was only nine in the morning. She had gone to bed early last night, right after practicing piano, feeling generally distracted by something she couldn't put her finger on.

She made her way to the kitchen and searched for breakfast food. Two eggs? Sure. She took out a frying pan and put it on the burner, cracked the eggs, and sloshed some milk in to make them fluffier. She poured herself some tea too, knowing perfectly well it wouldn't go, but needing the calming-down.

As her hunger subsided, another feeling came to light. It had been a day and a half since she had gone to the bathroom, and it was starting to feel like it. The weight in her abdomen couldn't be brushed off, ignored, or otherwise slighted; Jill had to allot attention towards making sure she didn't pee herself. Not a lot of attention – the urge wasn't strong – but some. And she wouldn't be able to stop paying attention to it until she finally decided to pee, at least two days from now.

She finished her eggs and tea, and sighed happily. What to do with the morning? She wondered if maybe she could get some writing done, and went to her work table. She tried to ignore the dishes stacked all over it, but when a plate fell on the floor and broke she went to work gathering dishes from all over the house.

Once the broken plate was cleaned up and the other dishes were collected by the sink, Jill set about washing them. The water running on her hands brought her bladder to the forefront of her mind, and rather than push it away, Jill embraced it. She was tempted to do a little mock pee-dance. The dance always made her crazy, even if it was she herself doing it.

What the heck. She allowed herself to cross her legs and bend at the knees a couple of times. Only the fact that her hands were wet kept her from grabbing her crotch.

By the time Jill dried her hands, she was ready to be serious. She returned to good posture – which meant not straight shoulders but uncrossed legs – and walked back to her work table, grabbing her laptop on the way. She opened the messaging program and clicked over to Matt's tab.

“hey matt”

When Matt didn't respond, she wrote:

“do u wanna go to the bar tonite with the squad”

No response appeared, but neither did the green circle to indicate that Matt was online at the moment. She closed the laptop, sat at her work table, and slipped into the flow of writing.

Daisy had slept through her alarm, and when she finally awoke it was at the late, late hour of nine in the morning. She panicked when she noticed, but then realized that it was okay, as she didn't have a class until eleven. Besides, the extra sleep was good for her. And it meant she didn't have to awkwardly avoid eye contact with Kendall, since she'd already gone out for the day.

Daisy slunk to the coffee maker and started a pot brewing, then went into the bathroom. She was tempted to just pee right now – did she really deserve to hold? – but she didn't do it. Her rationality would not be disrupted so easily. Still, seeing the toilet made her bladder ache prematurely; it felt like late stage 3, but in fact it was only mid stage 2.

She took a long, hot shower.

An hour later, the girl sat on her bed cleaned, dressed, warmed, fed (she'd had a muffin), and back in decent spirits. The thing with Kendall was still on her mind, but now she could frame it as a mere problem to be solved, like thousands before it and thousands to come.

Her bladder ached again, and this time she embraced the feeling.

The day passed calmly. Daisy went to her classes by an alternate route to avoid encountering Kendall, and took both her History book and her Botany book with her to Botany, so she wouldn't have to swing by the dorm between classes. During Botany, she sipped at a large cup of coffee. Luna, who shared both classes with Daisy, mentioned that she needed to pee, but Daisy, conditioned by last night, wasn't much interested.

Meanwhile, Jill worked on her show until early afternoon, when she went out to eat at a restaurant close to the one Jewel worked at. Returning home at two-thirty had been a strange experience, but she had just screwed around on the internet for a couple of hours, then gone to practice piano.

At around five in the afternoon, Jill's laptop sung the familiar note of an incoming message. She left the piano and opened up the laptop.

It was Matt:

“Yes. Does 7 P.M. work for you? I've got Joe and Ava on the line.”

Jill responded: “took u long enough lol...and yeah 7 works”

“Great, I'll let them know.”

“see u then”

Jill closed the laptop, and wondered if they would be eating at the bar or before meeting up. Probably beforehand, she thought. Besides, she wasn't sure if her bladder could withstand a stomach full of both food and beer sitting on top of it. Better to eat dinner early so it would be digested by the time she started drinking.

Soon after eating, it was time to go. Jill changed into sweatpants – more comfy! – and headed out the door. In the car, she remembered another thing she usually forgot: how hard driving could be on a full bladder. It wasn't a problem yet, but...she wondered if she should arrange to be dropped off after the meet-up. She supposed it was an issue for later – it wasn't like she would have to come up with an elaborate excuse to get a ride after a night of drinking.

She arrived at the bar early, but Matt and Ava were there already. She approached them, and the three shared a hug. It was an awkwardly positioned hug, since she hadn't given them time to stand, and Ava's knee ended up digging into her bladder. There wasn't enough of a bulge to tip Ava off, but it still hurt kind of a lot.

They caught up with each other while they waited for Joe – always late – to arrive. When he finally did, Matt paid for the first round of beers, and everyone celebrated him with high praise, which he accepted gracefully.

As the evening wore on, their conversation went from sober and loud (initially) to drunk and loud (when all had had five beers, except Matt, the dedicated driver) to drunk and quiet (when the beer really got to them). Among the drinkers of five, Jill was the least out of it; she knew how to hold her beer in more ways than one. Joe and Ava were a little on top of each other, and Jill and Matt exchanged knowing looks. It was getting late.

“All right,” said Matt. “I think it's about time to start heading home.”

Joe and Ava were resistant, but Matt worked with Jill to peel them apart. Ava had come with Matt, but Joe had come alone, and was now insisting: “I can drive, I can drive! I cannot crash car, there is too much gum on the road!” This could have been his English failing him – he was natively Russian – but Jill suspected it was the alcohol. Matt patiently insisted that he would drive Joe home, pointing out that he could sit with Ava if he let Matt drive. This convinced him.

“What about you?” he asked Jill. “There's still a seat left in the car.”

Jill wanted to say she was okay to drive, but she wasn't. Neither the alcohol in her blood nor the pee in her bladder was enough to take her down, but the combination defeated her. Do not take with alcohol; do not take with piss, she mused, and giggled.

Yeah, she was drunk. And Matt well knew it; he was only asking to humor her. In a way, it made her mad, but...this was Matt. He was just doing his Matt-y best to keep things civil.

“...Yeah,” she said. “I'll go let the owner know that my car and Joe's will be here overnight.”

“Don't worry about it. My brother is gonna help me drive the cars back to practice driving.” He almost let the ambiguity stand, but he saw the objection building on Jill's face. “That is, I'll drive your car home, then he'll pick me up and bring me back here so I can get Joe's car. He'll only drive my car.”

Jill relaxed. “Okay,” she said. “Thanks bro. You're the best.”

Matt allowed himself a little indulgence. “I know.”

On the ride home, Jill had trouble sitting still.

After spending the afternoon on unnecessary errands to avoid her dorm, it occurred to Daisy that she was probably being silly. There was nothing stopping her from returning right now – Kendall would be there – and apologizing. Errare humanum est.

But, she couldn't go now. History class wasn't for another twenty minutes, and the walk there with a stop at her dorm would take only fifteen, but Daisy wasn't stupid; she knew a good apology would take more than five minutes.

She milled about for a few minutes, then went to class early, and seeing that Luna wasn't there yet, sat where she had two days ago. The last time she'd been there, she had been in late stage 4 – that is, her back teeth had been floating. Now it wasn't so bad, but she was definitely more than half full. And that didn't mean she had half an urge; it meant she was half of desperate, which was a strong urge.

Soon, Luna showed up and sat next to Daisy. They exchanged hey-theres, then sat quietly. It was still a few minutes before the lecture began.

“Ugh,” Luna said. “ I still haven't gotten a chance to pee since Botany class.”

Daisy perked up, then tried to backpedal by waiting before answering. “Uh...oh?”

Luna shook her head. “Yeah. I was gonna go before class started, but...I think I'm out of time.”

Daisy looked her up and down, and Luna crossed her legs pointedly. She shifted back and forth from time to time, as if to tease her friend. Daisy's bladder didn't feel any better for seeing this, but Daisy herself enjoyed it. Luna didn't appear to be bursting yet, but subtle, lesser desperation was hot too. She fidgeted in her seat about every five minutes or so.

By the time class was over, both girls were feeling more pressure in their bellies. Daisy's was still under control – she would be holding until Sunday, after all, and today was Friday – but Luna's seemed to be getting out of hand. She had even packed up early to get out sooner. But when class ended, she still waited, antsy, for Daisy.

“Uncomfortable?” Daisy asked, with her eyebrows raised.

“My back teeth are floating,” Luna said.

Daisy forced a laugh to hide her arousal. She wouldn't make Luna keep holding; Luna was her friend. They left class together.

“There's a bathroom,” Daisy said, unsure if Luna had noticed it right outside the door.

Luna hesitated. She seemed to want to tell Daisy something, but instead of speaking, she silently went into the bathroom. Two minutes later she returned, her bladder clearly empty.

Back at the dorm, having parted ways with Luna, Daisy took the stairs to her room and approached the door. Kendall would be inside, and Daisy would apologize to her. Her bladder would soon be to the point where she wouldn't be able to make a proper apology without fidgeting insultingly, so she'd have to do it right now, or not for two days.

She inhaled, and opened the door.

Kendall was on her bed reading when Daisy entered the room. She glanced up, but Daisy avoided her eye. Daisy put her things down on her bed and sat there awkwardly, waiting for a good moment to speak.
None came.

“I'm sorry about how last night went!” she blurted out.

Kendall did a double take, then marked the place in her book and looked at Daisy.

“Wha–?” she said.

“I'm sorry about making you...I'm sorry about how last night went. I know it was really awkward and, and I didn't know how to...well, I shouldn't have–”

Kendall interrupted her. “Hey, hey!” she said. “It's no big deal, it's no big deal! It was my fault anyway, I just had to go...back to the dorm to sleep. I was really tired.”

Daisy looked up, distressed.

“I'm sorry, hun,” Kendall continued. “I didn't mean for you to take it personally. I actually kind of l–” She stopped mid-sentence. “Listen, do you want to go to the movies tomorrow night? I was already thinking of seeing something, and I'd love for you to be there.”

Recalling the method's success earlier, Daisy chose the direct approach.

“Okay,” she said. And Kendall's genuine smile told her that it was okay. She couldn't help mirroring the expression. “But, I'll pay. Deal?”

“Nonsense,” said Kendall. “My plan, my treat.”

Daisy was still up after Kendall had gone to sleep. She hadn't been tired at her normal bedtime, since she had woken up so much later than normal, so she spent some time working on the Botany paper. It was going a little slower than normal; the symptoms of a full bladder were beginning to develop.

END OF PART 2

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PART 3/5

Matt dropped Ava off first, then Joe. They lived near one another, and Jill lived a little while away from both of them.

Matt had noticed that Jill hadn't used the bathroom all night again, but Jill sat quietly, either unaware of the issue or doing a great job faking it, so he said nothing.

When they got to her house, Matt said he'd still be in the driveway for a minute while he texted his brother to get ready...which Jill smelled immediately as nonsense, since Matt had explained that his brother would only be driving Matt's car, which they were currently in. But Jill appreciated having an eye kept on her until she got inside the house, even if she didn't appreciate Matt's coyness about it.

There were no issues, and once Jill was inside Matt left to deal with the cars. She owed him one.

Jill took off her shoes by the door and hung up her coat. She shambled towards the bathroom, but remembered halfway there that she had to keep holding. Drunkenness could bring out old habits in her.

She stared at the toilet, clutched at her stomach and groaned, then slunk off to bed, knowing she'd feel better in the morning.

Morning came, and Jill felt much better!

Well, it was technically still morning.

And her bladder! Jill sat up and clutched her swollen belly proudly, admiring the work the beers had done in her sleep. She got up out of bed and walked to her bathroom, ignoring both the dresser and the toilet on the way to the shower. She took her pants, shirt, and panties off, then paused, clad in only socks and a bra, to cross her legs to suppress a rising urge (she needed to pee very badly now). She undressed the rest of the way and turned on the shower.

In the shower, the water pouring over her made her bladder's complaints even more urgent, but still she resisted them. Right now was the easiest time to pee, and she had given in to it before, in the earlier stages of her interest. Now she pretty much held to her limit every time – whether at home, in town, or on a plane.

As she lathered up her washcloth, she looked down her front and saw her bladder bulging out of her tummy just an inch or so. From her point of view, it was screaming for relief, but to an outside observer, it was simply there, a side effect of the fact that she hadn't peed in two and a half days. It made her wish she had someone to share it with.

Jill wasn't careful with her bladder at all; she washed her belly roughly several times, and enjoyed the urgent sensation it gave her. She tried not to dance around, but she couldn't resist clapping her thighs together and wiggling her hips and butt.

After her shower, Jill toweled off, again being less than gentle with her sac of pee. She hadn't brought her clothes into the bathroom, so she stepped out into the living room naked. Having no house-mate, her only precaution was to close the curtains. She enjoyed nakedness; it felt natural...and also sexy. Having a full bladder encouraged her to remain clothesless by putting her in that mood.

Jill didn't get dressed for a while, but when she had wasted enough time on the internet she reluctantly put her clothes on. It didn't work to be horny while writing; at best it distracted her, and at worst it made her writing way so irredeemably focused on sex that it had to be thrown out and rewritten.

She entered her writing mindset and got to work.

When Daisy woke up on Saturday, thoughts of the last two days and thoughts of pee battled for her attention. She tried to ignore her bladder while she could – the urge was always disproportionately gentle right after waking up – and remember what was important: Luna had needed to pee, Kendall wasn't angry, they were seeing a movie tonight.

Daisy stood up, yawned, and stretched hard, pressing out her small chest, which was covered only by her B-cup bra. She turned around to make her bed, and thought for a second she saw Kendall peeking out at her. But at a second glance, she seemed sound asleep.

In the shower, Daisy finally allowed herself to think about her bladder. It was unavoidable, really: the bulge in her tummy would have reminded her either way. She sucked air in through her teeth as she went through a kind of admittance of the fact that she needed to pee. She couldn't help but bend forward as the first urge washed over her, but she stood up straight for the rest of her shower.

Drying off, the girl maintained her composure, but she had to be delicate with her bladder to do it. She stood with her legs pressed together while she used the hairdryer, since two-handed tasks annoyingly increased her urge to pee simply by removing the option of using her hands to hold.

It occurred to her as she was about to leave the bathroom that making Kendall hold again was a possibility, since the girl apparently hadn't realized she was doing it before. She froze, paralyzed by indecision, and ultimately decided to just act normal, reasoning that she could always make Kendall hold another time if not today, and that her own bladder would be enough entertainment today. Her hand had brushed the doorknob when she'd reached for it the first time, so tapped it with her fingers four more times to make an even five before exiting the room for real.

Kendall was still asleep when Daisy slipped out to go to the library for a study session. On the way there, Daisy stopped at the coffeeshop. She noticed while waiting in line that the store would be doing some kind of cross-promotion deal tomorrow: coffee brought to the taco place at the end of Main St would be paid for by the taco place if you bought something there, and tacos brought back here would be paid for by the coffeeshop if you bought a coffee too. It didn't strike her as genius, but she loved free coffee as much as the next girl. She decided to bring her coffee to the taco place tomorrow and maybe work on her Botany essay there.

It was her turn to order. “Large coffee with one cream and one sugar, please.”

When Daisy took her break tomorrow, she would be firmly in stage 4 – bursting to pee – but she would have her free coffee.

She left for the library.

“Hey.”

Daisy looked up from her books to see Luna standing by the table. “Oh, hi Luna,” she said.

“Mind if I sit with you?”

“Go ahead.”

Luna sat down next to Daisy and put down her Botany book. She crossed her legs and began reading and taking notes. Daisy wondered what her friend was doing here, but she enjoyed the girl's company, so she didn't complain. She had been studying for an hour, and now the two of them studied together for another hour.

“Whew,” Luna finally said. “I need to pee.”

Daisy looked at her. Usually, she would be feeling perky and interested at this statement, but...she felt more quizzical than anything. Why did Luna keep bringing this up? Did she share Daisy's fetish or...what?

She made an attempt at dismissive humor. “You've got my permission.”

Luna smirked, but didn't go anywhere. Daisy was bemused, but she could think of nothing more to say, so she went back to her work. Normally she would leave to take a break, but her friend's presence was enough of a change of pace that she felt she didn't need one. Besides, she kind of wanted to keep an eye on the status of Luna's bladder, and if she left Luna could pee without her knowing.

They studied for yet another hour. Daisy managed to focus well even though she wanted to think about Luna's need to pee, and even though her own urge was getting stronger each hour now. Finally, curiosity got the better of her, and she turned to Luna and asked:

“How come you don't just...go to the bathroom?”

Luna shrugged. “I can hold it.”

The question continued to burn in Daisy's mind, but she didn't want to press further and risk discouraging Luna from whatever she was up to, so she bit her tongue.

A few minutes later, Luna stretched, and said “I was wondering if you'd want to go on an outing with me today.”

“Sure,” said Daisy. Yesterday she might have been afraid that she was making Luna hold her pee, but she could no longer contrive a situation in which Luna's holding was anyone's decision but her own. “Do you have a time in mind?”

“Some time around now? If that works.”

“Sure. Let me just put my books back in my room.”

“I'll come with you.”

They left the library and walked back to the dorms. It wasn't clear which girl needed to pee more urgently, but Daisy suspected it was herself; neither of them was squirming, but Daisy certainly would have been if she hadn't trained herself out of it.

Luna came into the room with Daisy and stood right by the open bathroom door, clearly aware of its existence. Daisy looked significantly at it, then at Luna, but her friend just shrugged.

“Shall we take the bus or walk?” Daisy asked.

“Let's take the bus if it's there,” Luna said.

It was there, and they boarded it. When they arrived at the mall, Daisy made a note of the time: 14:00. They would start with lunch, as neither girl had eaten yet. As far as Daisy knew none of the stores had toilets available – only the food court did. Could she steer them away from the toilets?

No, she was being passive this time. Luna would hold her pee if she wanted to.

They got off the bus.

Jill emerged from flow at around two-thirty in the afternoon. She had been writing furiously – she was so close to being done now! – and her wrist hurt. But alas, another character had gone and done something stupid, and she had to clean up the mess before the story could be over.

Famished, Jill thought about what to do for lunch. She'd eaten out the day before and didn't like to do it too often, but...c'mon, she was writing a lot, and she needed easy sustenance. I'll write again in the evening, she told herself, and considered lunch out justified.

She decided to get tacos. She felt like walking, so she grabbed her coat as she headed out the door. Hers was one of a few streets in town not blessed by a sidewalk, but it connected to Main St. soon enough.

By the time she got to the intersection, she was freezing and regretted walking, so when she saw a bus right at the stop, she jogged up and got on. The cold hadn't done any favors for her bladder, which now felt as uncomfortable as if the pee had frozen solid. Jill sat still, though, and didn't cross her legs. She knew the urge would lessen as she warmed up.

When the bus got to the stop nearest to the taco place, Jill got off and jogged inside. There were a few people in line, so she had time to catch her breath. As she moved forward in line, she caught sight of the cashier – a small black girl with noticeable green eyes – and a large white girl standing to the side. The line went quickly, and she was the last one in it. She sat at a table near the counter, and overheard some snippets of the cashier's conversation with her friend:

Cashier: “...blonde hair, kind of [something], just to her shoulders...”

Friend: “Which one was [something]?”

Cashier: “The [something] one. But I think the blonde one was [something something].”

Jill tuned them out. She wouldn't be able to make sense of it, and it wasn't her business anyway. She got up to get her food a minute later when it was ready, and noticed a sign on the wall saying that this place and the coffeeshop near the mall would be doing a cross-promotion tomorrow where items bought at one place would be paid for by the other if you bought something there too. She was about to ignore the sign – she hated coffee – when she noticed in the corner a note mentioning that they sold tea too.

Well, it was heresy, but Jill decided she would take advantage of the bargain and try their stupid we-sell-tea-too tea if it would be free.

She ate her hard-shell tacos and sipped at her soft drink, feeling the latter pungently as it hopped on the track to her bladder.

Daisy and Luna started with lunch in the food court. They went to a vegetarian restaurant with the aim of finding decent salads, and weren't disappointed. Coffee wasn't readily available, so Daisy just grabbed a water bottle; Luna asked for blueberry juice, and amazingly, they had it.

They sat in clear view of the bathrooms. Luna seemed uninterested in them, like Daisy, but she must have been getting rather full now...like Daisy.

Daisy kept an eye out for information on Luna's bladder. She saw the that girl was crossing her legs (inconclusive) glancing at the bathroom every now and again (more substantial) and a little uncomfortable in her seat (highly suggestive, but possibly Daisy's imagination).

Daisy didn't have to poll her own bladder to calculate how she herself was feeling; the answer was “full”. She was only in stage 3, but she was nearing the beginning of stage 4. She allowed herself to cross her legs. After all, who would suspect a thing? Her goal wasn't to keep her legs uncrossed, it was to stay discreet, and this was discreet.

Both girls downed their drinks, but it was Luna who would be more strongly affected by hers, since her bladder had less room to begin with. Soon they were done, and made for the exit of the food court. Daisy's interest flared and she couldn't stop herself from asking:

“Weren't you gonna...pee?”

She saw Luna struggling to answer. Finally her friend just said “...No...” but Daisy knew she hadn't had a chance to go since she had complained of her need in the library.

They shopped where things were cheap and window-shopped where they weren't for two hours. Daisy noticed her need increasing, but she kept it hidden. Luna, on the other hand, grew antsier and antsier. In the first half hour, she was mostly fine; in the second, she would press her legs together or cross her legs at the ankles occasionally; during the third, she crossed her legs fully at almost every stop, and paced around at others; by the fourth, she was practically doing a full pee-pee dance, though she desperately tried to mute it when she knew Daisy was looking. All this aroused Daisy, partly because it heightened her own need, but it concerned her too. Luna didn't seem to be having fun.

Another half hour passed similar to the last one, and they decided it was time to leave. The bus stop was outside the food court, so they had to walk through it to get back. Luna looked longingly at the bathroom as they passed, but made no move use it. At this point Daisy wanted to punch her, but she resisted the urge and walked to the bus stop with her calmly. The bus had just left when they arrived, meaning they would have to wait a full quarter hour until it returned. Luna sat on the seat under the shelter and held herself between her crossed, bouncing legs, apparently having given up on discretion.

Daisy looked at her almost angrily, but told herself to soften up, and put a hand on her friend's shoulder instead.

“Luna...” she said. “What are you doing?”

Again Luna struggled to answer. She turned away, startling Daisy, but turned back quickly and blurted “A while ago I noticed that you hardly ever used the bathroom so I started paying attention and I realized that you hold your pee all the time, so I looked it up and figured out it was a fetish and I wanted to give it a try.”

Daisy was aghast that someone had noticed her hobby, but she hid it. Or tried to. She blushed, but realized after a moment's thought that she didn't need to be embarrassed: for one thing, this was Luna – her best friend Luna, who would never mock or degrade her – and for another, Luna had tried the activity herself, so she couldn't think it was that weird.

“Oh,” Daisy said. Both girls were blushing now. “But...it doesn't seem like you're enjoying it anymore. How come you didn't use the bathroom in the food court?”

Slowly, Luna pulled up her shirt to reveal a metal chain where her belt would normally go. It was fastened by a padlock. She looked longingly at it, then at Luna. “The key is in my room.”

Daisy sniffed harshly to stop what felt like a nosebleed. This was something she hadn't thought of before, and it excited her hugely. But, that didn't stop her chain of logical deductions:

“All right,” she said. “How did you go after class yesterday?”

“I didn't have the chain back then. In fact, that's the whole reason I put this on this morning: so I couldn't be tempted into peeing again. I wanted to make sure I really got...desperate. That's also why I wanted to get away from my apartment.” She paused, then added “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have used you like that.”

“It's okay,” Daisy told her. “I'm happy to go on errands with you any time. Besides...I...don't just like it when my own bladder is full.”

Luna's blinked her eyes dry. “I figured,” she said. “That was mentioned on the wiki page.”

Daisy's heart was pounding. If anyone else had found this out, she would've despaired, but since it was Luna, she didn't see the harm in revealing even a little more. She lifted her shirt, exposing her bladder bulging four centimeters out of her tummy. Luna was confused at first, but then she looked to Daisy in realization and wonder. Daisy had only to nod.

“Wha– how long...?”

“Going on three days now.”

Luna swallowed. A question seemed to be on the tip of her tongue. Daisy answered it:

“You can...feel it, if you want.”

The girl looked around cautiously, and, seeing no one, turned back to Daisy for confirmation. Daisy nodded again, so Luna lifted two fingers and dragged them along the surface of the protrusion, pressing it inward at different places. Daisy winced when Luna began to experiment with whole-hand pressing, but she stayed strong for her friend.

Both were breathless by the time Luna was done. “It's...harder than I thought,” she whispered.

“My bladder?”

“No. Well, yes, that too. But...it's harder to not...go...than...I thought it would be.” She blushed.

“Aha,” Daisy said. “Yeah, it gets difficult after a while, doesn't it?”

“Yes...” Luna mused. She tightened her legs and gripped her crotch, squeezing her eyes in pain. “I...haven't gone since last night,” she said.

Daisy put a hand on her chest and took a slow breath, trying to stay calm enough to be there for her friend. “You...you're doing great,” she said.

“No,” Luna said. “I already really needed to pee when we got here. Now I'm...not sure I can make it back to the dorms.”

A few red drops dripped from Daisy's nose onto her upper lip, and she licked them off. The taste of copper distracted her enough for her to compose herself. She laid her arm on the other girl's shoulder.

“You can probably do it,” she said, favoring as always the direct, honest approach.

Luna tensed, but no puddle formed under her. Ten minutes or so remained until the bus would arrive, and then the ride to the dorms would be about five minutes.

“It's only another quarter hour,” Daisy told her.

Luna relaxed partially and sat up. “I know. I think I can hold it. It just...phew...really hurts.”

Daisy tightened her grip on the girl's shoulders.

The friends waited for the bus in silence, save for an occasional groan from Luna. After a few minutes, Daisy said “It helps if you sit still.”

Luna had been trying to keep her hands away from her crotch as she scissored her legs and stomped her feat. She slowed her actions down, but couldn't stop them entirely.

“That makes it worse,” she said.

Daisy shook her head. “It's like...good posture,” she said. “It's more comfortable once you get used to it.”

Luna took a breath and slowed her legs to a complete stop this time. She bit her lip and twisted in her seat, but stopped when Daisy scolded her. A minute passed. Tears came to her eyes. She would wet herself if she didn't do something. She jammed a hand in her crotch and allowed herself to move again.

Daisy smiled. “Like that,” she said. “How did it feel when you went back to moving...?”

Luna recovered, thought, and said “...not that great, I guess. It didn't help much.”

Daisy bobbed her head, as a flower blown on. “Exactly. Squirming–” she sighed and grasped her bloated belly as her bladder made its fullness known “–squirming doesn't help.”

The final minutes of waiting were an alteration of tense still and frantic movement. The bus arrived during the latter, but Luna managed to stop fidgeting when she stood to board. The girls shared a two-seater on the almost-empty bus. Daisy practiced perfect posture pristinely; Luna slipped and slumped, struggling.

When the bus arrived at the dorms, Luna tried to run, but Daisy stopped her.

“Good posture...” she said.

Luna obeyed, and slowed to a limp. Daisy guided the girl to her room, and they entered it. Luna hurried to retrieve her key, and Daisy didn't try to slow her, reasoning that if the girl soiled herself now, she might face difficult clean-up or, worse, difficult explanations to her roommate. But when Luna began frantically tossing things off the table to see underneath them, Luna stepped in.

“Calmly,” she said. “That's the–”

But Luna interrupted: “The key is gone!”

Jill had a meeting with the Props manager in the theater building at five today. As usual, she wasn't quite done writing yet, but she didn't have to be; all that the meeting required was a good idea of the cast and themes. And Matt, the manager, would understand.

Jill's bladder was too full to allow for safe driving, so she left her house on foot at quarter to five, and arrived on time.

“Hey,” she said, walking into the room at around the same time as Matt did.

“Hello Jill,” Matt replied. Birdy, his assistant, waved. “Tea?” Matt offered.

“I'd love some,” Jill said. She took her seat across from Matt's and Birdy's. While he was looking the other way, Jill gave her bladder a couple of rubs, and let slip a quiet moan. Birdy looked over, but Jill looked away quickly, and the girl said nothing.

Matt sat down and pushed Jill's tea over to her.

The meeting began with pleasantries between Matt and Jill, then delved into discussion about major plot points and characters, important visual aspects and totems, and so forth. The rapid-fire discussion was punctuated by an occasional fidget from Jill. And she wasn't faking it: at this point, she genuinely couldn't hold her pee without shifting in her seat every now and then. It was bad enough to distract her from the task at hand. She tried to push it from her mind, but she couldn't. The best she could manage was to let it sit on the cusp of release, where, paradoxically, it was easier to hold without squirming. However, when a wave of pressure came over her and threatened to spill it over the edge, she abandoned the strategy.

In forty minutes, they got about halfway through the discussion. Jill had drank two cups of tea, and Birdy three. And Birdy was seeming distracted in a way that Jill recognized: she needed to pee. Badly. It had been getting more and more obvious, and at this point she was red-faced and constantly fidgeting. Finally, when Jill sensed Birdy was about to excuse herself, she cut in:

“I'll be right back,” she said. “Just going to the bathroom.”

Jill stood and walked down the two short hallways that lead to the theater's bathroom, and stepped in. Seeing the toilet made her bladder ache, but she had no intention of using it. Rather, she propped the poorly designed lock in a precarious position, then stepped out and closed the door swiftly and quietly, hearing the lock fail at its one job by clicking into place when no one was in the bathroom. Then she returned to the meeting room and, as Birdy was standing up, informed her:

“It's out of order.”

“Oh,” Birdy said. Then, to herself: “...I can wait.”

...But Jill knew that she was shy about her bathroom needs and wouldn't have brought them up unless she was desperate.

The meeting continued; Jill's movements stayed rare and subtle, but Birdy's became less so. A bit over an hour into the meeting, Birdy was sitting on her heel, rocking back and forth slowly.

Neither woman said anything more about it until they wrapped up, at which point Jill thought she heard Birdy whisper to Matt “[something]...I'm dying to wee.” Jill was tempted to prolong the meeting even longer to make Birdy wait. She had plenty of excuses to do so – there was this character and that amulet design and those details – but she didn't want the poor girl to have an accident. (Okay, she did, she just didn't want Matt or Birdy to suffer).

As they were leaving, Birdy dashed down the hallway to the bathroom, and it occurred to Jill that she hadn't thought to put an “out of order” sign on the door. It was fine, though; the other girl hobbled back and said nothing of it.

But Jill couldn't resist delaying Birdy's flight just once. When they had gone outside, Matt had gotten into the car, and Birdy was just climbing in, Jill called to her. The girl froze, then stood up stiffly and crossed her legs.

“Ah–! Hmm?”

Jill tried to think of what to say. Birdy, the shorter of the two, looked up at her nervously, and bent at the knees. Her curly, light brown hair bounced when she did.

“I just wanted to say...” Jill began, dragging the sentence out to watch Birdy's not-so-subtle dance. A wave came over her bladder, making her wince. “Sorry about the bathroom. If I'd known I wouldn'ta let us both drink so much tea.”

Birdy exhaled a strained breath. “Um, that's okay,” she said.

“Okay,” said Jill. “Bye then!”

Birdy nodded and got into the car with Matt, and this time Jill let her go. Jill walked home and looked at the clock. It was about seven: time for today's second writing session, which she hoped would be the last in this play. She grabbed herself some cheese puffs and a soft drink, and sat down at her work table. She eyed the drink warily, waves of pee crashing against the dam, but she clamped her legs shut and popped the drink open.

She wrote for three hours until she fell asleep at the table, the last words of the show wet on the page.

“What?”

“The key is gone!”

“How?” Daisy asked. “Is that were you left it?”

“Yes,” said Luna, bending forward and holding her crotch. “I'm...phew...sure of it.”

Daisy went over to the desk to help Luna look, torn over whether to hurry and help her friend, or not hurry and see more desperation. She straightened the table, which sat on a rug, and while Luna looked around on the nearby floor, Daisy lifted a corner of the rug and found a small silver key. She opened her mouth to tell Luna, but stopped, and instead just pocketed they key.

Luna, meanwhile, was hopping on one foot.

“Stop being silly,” Daisy said to her. She wanted Luna to hold properly, yes, but she also needed something to say: she was terrible at keeping secrets quietly.

Luna looked at her, but didn't stop. “I can't,” she said. “I'm gonna pee myself if we can't find that key!” She almost returned to looking, but she realized she recognized Daisy's face. Daisy turned away and pretended to keep looking, but Luna knew her better than that.

“Please give it to me,” she said. “This was fun to try out, but...I really am gonna have an accident.”

Daisy sighed. She supposed that Luna was in her own tiny version of stage 4, so she would need permission sooner or later. She looked at the clock and realized that she would have to go meet Kendall pretty soon, so, with reluctance, she handed Luna the key. Luna lifted her shirt and snagged the rim on her breasts, not caring that Daisy saw her white bra (though she knew the girl was bisexual) and shoved the key into the padlock. The key resisted turning at first; Luna took care of it on her way into the bathroom and slammed the door. A minute later, Daisy heard a loud hiss that lasted 20 seconds before slowing to a 10-second trickle and stopping completely. Then, a flush.

Now Daisy's own bladder was the most pressing thing on her mind, and she realized that she was herself in stage 4: her need had increased beyond “very urgent” and into the territory of “bursting” and “desperate”, and her bladder was sticking out more than four centimeters now.

Upon exiting the bathroom, Luna said “Wow. I really needed that.”

Daisy smiled stiffly. She needed it, too.

“You wanna use it?”

Daisy slid her shirt up to rub her bladder bulge meaningfully, then smirked at Luna. “What, to empty this thing? Nah, there's hardly a drop in there!”

Luna smiled. “Okay,” she said, and with visual consent from Daisy, she gave the bulge a few pats. “But hey. I had a lot of fun trying this, and I was thinking I'd give it another go sometime. Would you wanna...be there when I do?”

“Yes,” said Daisy. “I'd like that a lot. Will you let me know?”

Luna nodded. “Yeah.”

When Daisy got back to her dorm room, Kendall was on her bed reading.

“Hi hun,” Kendall said.

Daisy waved. “Hey.”

“Still on for the movie?”

“Yes. When do you want to leave?”

Kendall took out her phone and pulled something up – the movie listings for the nearest theater.

“I was thinking we might see this one,” she said, pointing to a comedy. “It starts in fifty minutes, and it's about a twenty minute drive, so I was thinking we'd leave in fifteen?”

Daisy nodded. “Sounds good to me.” She sat down at her desk and took out a token assignment to do meanwhile.

“Ready to go?” Kendall asked.

Daisy nodded. While working, she had remembered what she always forgot during the early stages of a hold: just how very urgent her need to piss could get. She'd had a hard time focusing because of it.

Kendall didn't use the bathroom before leaving. Daisy didn't know how recently the girl had gone, but she suspected it would have been more recently than the previous night.

They rode mostly in silence to the theater, taking Kendall's car. As promised, Kendall bought the tickets, and Daisy bought snacks for both of them – popcorn, two candy bars, and two large soft drinks.

Daisy was curious if Kendall needed to pee, but for once she shirked the direct approach and instead told Kendall that she herself was going to go use the bathroom.

Kendall smiled politely and said to go ahead, and that she would wait. Daisy ducked into the bathroom, wondering whether Kendall had gone earlier today or if she just normally held for more than a full day. Since she had the restroom to herself, she lifted the rim of her shirt up over her breasts and inspected her bulging tummy in the mirror. It was worthy of its position in the early final stage: wide, curvy, and protruding out almost five centimeters. She gave it an affectionate pat, making it hurt more than the sight of toilets already had, and savored the pain.

The girls rejoined outside the theater, then went to their seats and prepared to watch the movie. They exchanged small-talky comments anticipating the movie during the ads; then the lights dimmed and the screen displayed a request that cell phones be turned off. The movie began, and Daisy settled into her seat, looking forward to the battle she would fight with her bladder for the duration of the movie...and for another full day after that.

The first pang of urgency of the night took a jab at her, and she resisted it with a contented sigh.

END OF PART 3

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PART 4/5

Jill must have gotten up and moved to her bed sometime during the night, because that's where she woke up, even though she remembered falling asleep at the table. It was only ten in the morning, but she felt rested; last night's lucubration had been killer, so she had slept deeply, and had probably been woken up by falling off the couch. Either way, the interruption had been either so brief or so subconscious that she'd forgotten it entirely.

She went out to her work table to make sure the story really was done. She'd been getting drowsy near the end, so she feared that the last chapter or so would be the nonsensical ramblings – or worse, illegible scrawls – of someone already committed to sleep. But no – as she read over what she'd written, it still made as much sense as it had last night. And it was rather clever, if she said so herself.

This resolved, she turned her eye to something her body had been telling her since she'd woken up: her bladder was going to explode. If yesterday morning she had needed to pee very badly, then this morning she was dying to. But still, she held on. She searched in vain for the scrap of paper with her goal written on it until she was sure that any more crawling around would make her pee herself.

Jill puffed. She thought her goal was to hold for the rest of today, but it would be difficult enough to get through the rest of the morning, let alone the whole afternoon and evening too. Luckily it was Sunday, so she couldn't be blamed for not getting much work done.

She got clothes from her dresser and went into her bathroom for a shower. The urge to fidget finally overcame her, and she swung her hips back and forth as she unbuttoned and unzipped her pants to pull them off. This seemed only to disturb the previously calm waters of her bladder, and she cringed as the agitated liquid tried to escape. Jill grasped the bulge, which protruded out well over two inches from her tummy, and squeezed it gently. It barely gave at all. She squeezed harder, hard enough that it compressed inward a little, and held it like that for as long as she could bear it. Afterwards, she danced on the spot until she got her urge back under control.

She took off her shirt and took a look at herself, clad only in underwear, in the mirror. Her red hair needed a wash; its waviness had been turned practically into curls by the sweat of her efforts. Her eyes traveled up and down her own body, making sure she was okay, seeing first her fidgeting feet, her swinging thighs, and her moving hips; then her thin torso (with a giant bulge at the bottom) and her gently bobbing bosom; and finally her small chin and green eyes. And, turning around, she took a moment to look at her own butt as it writhed around with her hips.

In the shower, Jill managed to remain mostly still, but whenever something bumped into her bladder, she had to do a little dance to regain control, lest she need to wash her legs again.

She opted to drip dry, rather than to towel off, so she wouldn't have to bend over or press a towel into her belly. She squeezed out her hair to a satisfactory degree and swiped the visible drops off of her skin, then just walked out into the main room without clothes. Next on her list was some relaxation – the completion of her first draft not only merited it but demanded it – so she switched on her laptop and opened up a sandbox game, hoping that building towers to protect herself from kamikaze walking plants would distract her from the immense pressure in her belly, and thus help her contain it.

Daisy opened her eyes when her alarm went off. She'd been awake for almost an hour now, trying in vain to get back to sleep after her bladder had woken her up. If anyone was good at sleeping, it was Daisy, but even she could not stifle the disruptions of her bladder at this point.

She got out of bed, not as rested as she liked to be in the morning, but able to get up and get going. She'd stayed up later than normal last night talking with Kendall about the movie; they'd hit it off pretty well, but what pulled Daisy in was the fact that Kendall still hadn't used the bathroom after they'd returned, despite having drank a whole large soda. Now the girl lay in bed, undisturbed by Daisy's alarm, and apparently not full enough of bladder to be woken up.

In the shower, Daisy beheld her bladder bulge with a mix of pride and indignation. Here she was, holding her pee for three and half days, keeping all six centimeters of the bulge at bay from hour to hour. And rightly so: what right did this piss have to distract her from her life? And to take up time by forcing her to void herself when she could be doing something else? A bladder was like a trashcan, to be filled throughout the week and emptied only when it becomes unbearable not to, so as not to waste time. Batch processing – the words were music to Daisy's ears.

Daisy got out of the shower, dried off, and put on her clothes, including her favorite turquoise skirt. Its waistband was tight when her bladder was full, but Daisy refused to get her priorities backwards by changing clothes to suit her bladder. Leaving the bathroom, she saw that Kendall was awake, though still in bed, and not looking like she wanted to use the bathroom.

At that moment, a scale tipped in Daisy's mind, suddenly favoring curiosity over caution. She spoke up:

“Kendall.”

Her roommate looked up. “Hmm?”

Daisy felt herself blushing and her heart pounding. She felt the adrenaline being pumped through her, making her want to run away from the situation she had just thrown herself into, but she stood her ground. She knew her voice would be shaky now – a fact she hadn't accounted for when weighing the potential risk of asking about Kendall's bladder – but she couldn't back out now.

“...H–” Daisy swallowed, and tried to smooth out her voice into a casual tone. “How come you hardly ever go to the bathroom?”

The words had come out somewhere between the two extremes of perfectly casual and intensely awkward. Would Kendall notice Daisy's nerve, or had she had the charisma to cover it up?

Kendall looked at her queerly for a second, then shrugged and laughed. “I dunno hun, I guess I just have a big bladder!”

Daisy smiled awkwardly and shrugged, then went back into the bathroom to recover her equilibrium, pretending that she had forgotten something. Behind the locked door, she looked at herself in the mirror, straightened her swath of blonde hair, and stared at her own blue eyes. It was especially difficult to regain her composure when she needed to pee like this, but she had time.

After about a minute, she emerged. Kendall went into the bathroom when Daisy came out, but there was no peeing or flushing sound – only the sound of clothes hitting the floor and shower water running. Daisy supposed that Kendall could be peeing in the shower for convenience or privacy, but neither seemed likely: Kendall liked being neat and proper as much as Daisy did, and although it was true that she didn't like to admit her need to go, she never asked Daisy to leave while she peed, nor did she delay her visits until Daisy was gone.

Or...did she?

The idea snagged on Daisy's mind. Her previous understanding was that Kendall simply didn't have the time or patience to wait for the bathroom when she discovered it occupied, but...was it possible that she was just pee shy? It was simpler explanation (more people had pee shyness than whatever Daisy had assumed to afflict Kendall) and it explained more about her behavior (such as why she'd been kept from using the bathroom by Daisy's primitive manipulation the other night).

Occam's Razor demanded that she favor the simpler idea. That wasn't a proof, but she promised herself she'd ponder it.

As Daisy checked her to-do list for today, her bladder made a move to press her pee out of her; she winced and pressed her thighs together to hold it in.

One item on Daisy's to-do list was something she'd forgotten about: the Botany essay that was due tomorrow. It was about half done, but it would require a few more hours' work – maybe more, given the state of Daisy's bladder. She gathered up her books and laptop and set out for the library. Her skirt's waistband shifted with each step she took, rubbing against her sore bladder, but she ignored it gracefully. She was a grown woman; she didn't pee herself, and she didn't hold herself in the process of not peeing herself.

At the library, she set her books down at her usual spot and sat in the familiar wooden chair. It had a straight back, preventing Daisy from alleviating any bladder pressure by leaning backwards.

She took a moment to press on the rock-hard bulge. It didn't give at all. The pressure sent a wave of pain up her spine that made her gasp quietly.

Daisy worked on her paper, quietly tapping away at the paragraphs as she kept over 84 hours of pee contained in her bladder. She wished Luna would come by – both because she wanted company and because she wanted to show off her capacity to the girl, who would no doubt appreciate it now that she herself had dabbled in holding.

But she didn't come, so Daisy just worked from nine o'clock to about half past twelve, taking a break in the middle to get a cup of water from the bubbler.

By noon, Daisy's bladder situation had gotten noticeable worse. She had already needed to pee incredibly badly – she was deep into stage 4 – but the water she'd drank had made its way down into her bladder and pushed the urge over into that qualitatively different domain that came when she was nearing the last 5% or so of a hold; now it was genuinely challenging not to piss herself. She knew from experience that she would be clumsier than normal until she peed, so she decided to stop by her dorm and drop her stuff off before going to lunch.

The walk back to the dorms was painstaking, but she managed it, and she did not change into looser clothing while she was there. The waistband hugged her tightly, tormenting her bladder, but Daisy didn't care. It wouldn't have made sense to care.

Daisy did, however, encounter Luna:

“Hi Astra!” Luna said, as they passed one another in the hallway. It was an unspoken convention that her nickname be used more often when the two had just gone through something together – such as the advent of Luna's exploration into pee-holding.

Astra smiled back. “Hi,” Then, on a whim, she took Luna by the shoulders and said “Can I talk to you in the bathroom for a minute?”

“Sure,” Luna said. They turned towards the nearest bathroom, right nearby, and walked in. “What's up?”

Daisy blushed. “I just wanted to show you something I thought you'd appreciate.” She looked at all the stalls to make sure no one else was there.

Luna cocked her head and looked at her friend expectantly. Daisy lifted her shirt to reveal the nearly seven-centimeter bulge in her belly. It took Luna a moment to understand, but when she realized that this was the same pee her friend her been holding yesterday, her eyes grew wide.

“Oh my god,” she said. “Are you okay? Are you able to go?”

Daisy chuckled. “Yes! I'm fine. I'm still holding it by choice.”

Luna swallowed and stared. “...Can I...can I tou...?”

Daisy nodded and invited Luna's hand towards her midsection. Luna put her hand on the bulge and felt it up and down, making Daisy wince in pain.

“Should I stop?”

Daisy didn't mind the pain, but she was afraid that any more pressure would make her wet herself in front of Luna, setting a bad example, so she nodded.

“Sorry,” Luna said. She continued to stare at the giant bulge, though. “How can you even hold that much?”

Daisy shrugged. “Practice,” she said. “You'll wanna use that belt chain often if you want to improve.”

“Is that what you did?”

“No. But I started early, so I was used to resisting temptation by the time I got serious about practice.”

Luna nodded, and was about to speak when they heard another girl come into the bathroom. Daisy quickly pulled down her shirt and began washing her hands, while Luna ducked into a stall. The entering girl walked into another stall. Soon enough Daisy heard two streams of pee coming from behind her. One – she didn't know which – lasted only 10 seconds, while the other lasted almost 25.

She left the bathroom before either peer emerged, and decided that her interaction with Luna had come to a proper enough end that she could leave.

At the coffee shop Daisy found that the line was longer than usual, probably because of today's bargain. There were about eight people ahead of her. And although she hated to admit it, Daisy had to keep moving her body to stay in control. No one would see the movement for what it was – she was only shifting her weight from one foot to the other – but she was ashamed nonetheless.

By the time it was her turn to order, she had gotten herself composed. She had been ignoring the splashy sound of coffee dribbling into cups, but now she couldn't block it out; it weighed on her bladder. The barrista gave her the drink, and she took it and made for the taco place. She wasn't very hungry, since her full bladder was making her belly feel full too, but she knew she needed the meal to avoid fatigue.

Daisy could see from the sidewalk that the taco place was packed, but that the line was short. A red-headed girl next to a tipped-over bike scratched her head vigorously as Daisy stepped up on the curb.

She made for the door.

Jill still didn't have clothes on by the time she was getting hungry for lunch. She considered going out to eat nude, but...nah, she would just put her clothes on. She stood to go to the bathroom, and her bladder's fullness came back to her like a cartoon anvil landing on her head. She winced in pain and clutched at her bare belly, cradling the bulge in her hands as it screamed in pain; she wanted to scream too, but she held her peace.

Sweat beaded on her forehead as she stalked to her dresser, making every attempt to act normal. Pee dances were a turn-on for her, even if it was her dancing, and especially if the holder was dancing involuntarily, against his or her will. She had once wrestled with the questions of (1) how she could be turned on by her own dance – wasn't that like tickling yourself? and (2) more philosophically, was she ever really dancing 'against her will' if that was exactly the result she wanted?

But that had been when the dancing would set in before the hot flames of urgency fully occupied her brain; now her means and her motive to ponder this subject never coincided.

She donned pink underpants and gray sweatpants, whose waistband held her bladder semi-snugly; a blue t-shirt and sweatshirt, sans bra; and her characteristic huge sneakers. Mildly conflicted about the attention her loose chest would probably attract, she walked out the door before she could change her mind. The cool air refreshed her, and gave her a little more power to keep her bladder contained. But the same cool air also intensified her need, so in effect it only escalated the fervency of the battle, favoring neither side.

Jill wanted to drive, but she knew she was worse than drunk at this stage, so she trundled her bike out from behind the house and hopped on it. The forward-leaning sitting position cramped her bladder, and now that she had returned from the inattentive mental state of playing an undemanding game, she felt it.

“Ugh,” she said. “Phew.”

Pedaling with a full bladder was tricky, but being experienced at the task, she succeeded on her first try. Still, the gentle rocking motion of bike-riding made it hard to stay dry as she made the six- or seven-minute journey into town; it also made her breasts sway back forth distractingly. She bit her lip and avoided eye contact with passers-by.

Once on Main St., Jill had to stop every block or two to wait at a crosswalk light. At each one, she slowed to a stop, stood on one leg, and tried furiously to scratch the itch that had developed on the top of her head. But alas, she would need both hands to remove her helmet, and she couldn't effectively balance her bike with only her legs, especially with a bladder this full...and it would feel silly to pull over just to scratch her head.

So the itchy spot rode atop her for the entire rest of her journey to the taco place near the end of the street. It had become almost unbearable by the time she was a block away, so when she finally rolled up onto the stretch of sidewalk outside, she screeched to a halt, ripped off her helmet (letting her bike fall over) and scratched vigorously with both hands. A short girl with blonde hair regarded her curiously as she – the short girl – entered the taco place, but Jill was too relieved to care. She righted her bike and chained it to the bike-rack nearby, then followed the girl into the restaurant.

END OF PART 4

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PART 5/5

Jewel watched in fascination from behind the counter as not just one but both of the girls she suspected to be marathon holders walked into the restaurant. There was no line to order, but only a few seats were open.

By her side, Zelda turned the other way to hide her interest; Jewel had pointed the girls out to her as possible holders before, and although the larger girl was still skeptical, she wouldn't be able to keep a straight face if she looked in their direction.

First was the short girl, whose round, blonde hair reminded Jewel of a petal of a daffodil or a daisy. Jewel took her order, noting the bulge in the girl's tummy with interest – it hadn't been there two days ago. That one stood off to the side to wait for her food, and the tall girl, a red-head, stepped up, also sporting a swollen belly. After ordering, she stood a small distance away from the short girl to wait.

Each girl, upon receiving her food, found her way to one of only two empty seats in the whole restaurant, which happened to be back-to-back with one another.

Jewel stepped out from behind the counter and got Zelda's attention with a motion of her hand.

“I told you,” she whispered gleefully.

“What?”

“Look at them–” she nodded in their direction. “Both of them are holding a huge amount of pee. Maybe as much as us!”

At the mention of her bladder, Zelda looked down at her belly and regarded the swollen mass contentedly. She patted the bulge, folded her shirt so it wasn't so obvious, then looked over at the girls that Jewel had pointed out.

“Okay,” she said. “You were right.”

Jewel stuck out her tongue.

“But,” Zelda said. “How do you explain the desperate girl that was with the blonde one?”

“Well...I dunno. She squirmed for a long time before deciding to go pee, so...bathroom shy?”

Zelda made a face. “Meh, that still doesn't explain why she needed to go so badly.”

Jewel shrugged.

For a minute they said nothing, occupied with simply looking at Daisy and Jill sit back to back like the opposite poles of a magnet. Jewel's first instinct was to approach them, but ultimately Zelda convinced her not to; not everyone was so friendly that they'd want their meal interrupted to talk with someone, even if that someone was one of only a few other major-league holders in town. They decided to discuss the possibility of contacting them later.

“Aw man,” Jewel finally said.

“What?”

“Someone's scratched up the wall again! I just cleaned it yesterday!”

Zelda squinted to see what Jewel was talking about, and with some effort she made out a small 'W' scratched into the paint on the wall, right between the two holders.

“Want me to clean it up?”

“Nah, I'll get it later. But thanks.”

Jewel returned to the counter to deal with some customers who had just walked in, giving Zelda a nice side view of her bulging bladder. It made her happy to see Jewel beginning to step back and forth behind the counter.

By the time Daisy finished lunch, the pain in her bladder had become unbearable. The weight of her full stomach sat on top of her pee sac without apology, and even before eating she had been in the later parts of stage 4. It would be time to pee soon. Like, now.

Daisy prepared herself for the bladder-sloshing of getting up by squeezing her eyes shut and taking a few deep breaths through her nose. She put all her trash onto her tray, and stood as tenderly as she could to take it to the trash can. After throwing it out, she needed to stand still and cross her legs, which she did discretely by pretending to dump her trash in for ten seconds. She didn't think anyone noticed.

The walk back to the dorms was painful; it was one of those things that Daisy had to take one step at a time – literally – and keep telling herself “just a little more, just a little more.” One foot in front of the other, again and again. If she could take one step without making her predicament worse, she could get all the way back to her dorm without wetting her skirt.

She nearly did have an accident while waiting to cross the last street on her route. The intersection was insanely busy, and pedestrians could face up to a five minute wait if they got unlucky. She had tried to stand still and at ease as the cold nipped at her, the wind crashed on her, the loud cars and bikes whizzed by without warning, and her bladder contracted again and again to try and force out some of the immense amount of pent-up pee, the pressure building without reprieve; but at last, on the verge of peeing herself, she had been forced to calm the waters by writhing and twisting at the waist – she would NOT hold herself.

Finally she got a chance to cross. She jogged onto campus, then power-walked to her dorm, cutting across the grass rather than taking the longer sidewalk route. She wondered briefly whether it was better to stand still in an elevator or bounce harshly on the stairs, but the decision was made for her; both elevators were engaged, so she made for the stairs, wishing her legs were long enough that she could take two at a time.

Daisy came up to the door to her room, and forced herself to calm down before entering. She had been in a bit of a panic, she realized, and it wouldn't do to stay like that. She leaned against the wall opposite the door and stared down at the bulge in her tummy. The stare did nothing to quell her bladder's urgency, but it gave Daisy some of the strength she needed to stand upright and still, even as she prodded her bladder one last time.

But when she entered the dorm, she found to her dismay that the bathroom was occupied. Daisy slunk to her desk and sat down in the chair to wait, but before Kendall came out, she discovered something: she still had the power to keep holding. Walking around had almost made her pee herself, but sitting was still easy terrain. So, tentatively, Daisy took out her laptop and began to work on her essay again. She preferred to work in the library, but she was in no mood to walk again.

After a few minutes, Kendall came out of the bathroom, and, seeing that Daisy had come in while she was on the toilet, bit her lip. Was that embarrassment crossing the girl's face, Daisy wondered? She didn't ask, lacking the focus to even care, and just nodded a greeting.

“Hey,” Kendall said, subdued.

“Hey.”

Kendall sat on her bed and picked up where she'd left off in her book. Daisy returned to her work, but, to her frustration and embarrassment, couldn't focus. Keeping her seat dry was doable, but writing an essay at the same time was harder.

Daisy needed to think about this. She estimated that she could control her pee in this state for another two hours, as long as she remained sitting, and that the paper would take another three hours or so to finish. Finishing her hold first and then writing the paper would bring her to seven o'clock, and eating dinner would take her to seven-thirty. She wanted to be in bed by eight, since she saw on the calendar that she had a history test tomorrow, so that would be cutting it close. And that didn't even include the time she had to spend studying for the test – at least an hour.

All right, all things considered, Daisy would have to stay up half an hour past her preferred bedtime to do everything she wanted to do today, assuming no disasters, and assuming that she couldn't work on anything while she was still holding this pee.

She sighed, and looked sullenly at her laptop.

Reluctantly, she stood up and went into the bathroom.

Behind the closed door, she made to turn on the fan so that Kendall wouldn't hear the long, powerful stream of pee, only to find that Kendall had already turned it on. There was no hint of air freshener, meaning that Kendall had also turned it on just to pee.

Daisy pulled the waistband of her skirt away from her tummy with her thumbs, and took another look at the seven-centimeter bladder bulge. She pulled first her skirt and then her panties down around her ankles, and took a moment to appreciate the form of her bare abdomen in the mirror. She sat down on the toilet.

Daisy – who was yet capable of holding her pee for longer – didn't.

She sighed as the massive stream flowed out of her. She didn't like to pee early; the human bladder was supposed to accommodate the human such that the human could pee only when it was convenient, but hers had just distracted her so badly that she'd had to go and empty it before it was absolutely full. She hated this.

Once her piss was fully released, Daisy went ahead and emptied her bowels as well. They hadn't been bothering her – she had once been in the habit of emptying them far less often than every four days, but had given it up for fear of becoming constipated – but there had still been quite a bit in there.

Daisy stood and flushed the toilet, noting that the water level had gone up significantly with the addition of her pee. She sprayed air freshener around, then washed her hands twice. She looked herself in the mirror with her shirt pulled up, and studied her new, flat tummy. It wasn't a satisfying end; but, as Daisy thought to herself as she wrote “January 18, 2015 / Time: 14:00 / Duration: 4 minutes, 1 second / Volume: not recorded” in her notebook, it was a promising beginning.

She got back to work on her essay.

Jill ended up leaving Jewel's taco place a little later than Daisy. She'd realized partway through her meal that she'd forgotten to grab the tea from the coffee shop that was doing the co-op bargain with this restaurant, but at that point she hadn't much cared: her bladder was so full she didn't think it could even contain her fountain drink, let alone an additional cup of tea.

Yet her drink was empty when she tossed it out. She'd downed the last quarter of it with a shrug of her shoulders, and then walked out of the restaurant with one hand between her thighs. She managed to take it away before reaching the bike rack, but boy did her bladder ache.

Getting on her bike, Jill pondered where to go. Her bladder said 'to a toilet', while her head said anywhere but there. So it was settled: Jill set off for the mall, and planned to stop at the coffee shop on the way to try that tea.

En route, Jill cradled her bladder lovingly and painfully, trying to sooth it as her thighs, moving up and down to work the pedals, agitated it. She reached the coffee shop in a bit of a frenzy, quickly switching back and forth between keeping her bladder pacified and keeping herself upright on the bike.

There was a line of a dozen people at the counter, and another line of four at the bathroom. Jill resolved to use her wait in line to calm herself, and after getting antsy fiddling with her bike lock, she hopped in line and worked on standing still. By the time she was sixth in line she was standing still, and by the time it was her turn to order she was doing it with ease.

When Jill had her tea, she sat at an empty table. She sipped her tea calmly, refusing to acknowledge the monster romping around in her abdomen. She was Jill; she could hold it.

The tea, by the way, was terrible – just as she'd thought. The flavor wasn't as bad as she'd expected, but the texture and overall composition made the beverage more befitting of a sewage pipe than a tea cup.

Speaking of sewage pipes...gah, Jill needed to pee! She crossed her legs nonchalantly and tried not to think about it...an impossible task. She glanced around nervously and spotted the line for the restroom again. Now it was down to only two people. It wouldn't be a very long wait...

No. Jill didn't need to go so badly that she would stoop to waiting in line. She was having an emergency by any standards, but it wasn't that bad.

Jill finished her tea grudgingly. It had put her in a sour mood, and she wasn't feeling up to shopping anymore. She threw out the cup, happy at least not to have wasted money on it, and decided she would just to home.

Again no itches visited Jill as she rode her bike, but again her bladder had gotten fuller. It looked and felt like a balloon, continuing to inflate even after it seemed to be full-sized, and Jill kept flinching at little things, fearing the balloon would pop. Though the day was cool and the ride easy, she was sweating when she paused at the first crosswalk. Luckily, that was the only “walk” signal she had to wait for.

But when she got to the six-way intersection where Main Street and her home street crossed, she accidentally took the third intersecting street, which lead to the theater. She considered turning around and going back, but getting back on the right side of the road would require crossing the same crosswalk she'd just crossed, and now it had gone from “walk” to “stop”. It was a long cycle, too – too long to wait at. So she just sighed and continued down the road. Her house was only a short ride from the theater by the back-road she'd taken earlier, and if things got really bad she could use the bathroom there.

Things got really bad. When Jill reached the theater her face was flushed and she was in agony. Something – either the pop or the tea, she didn't have time to wonder which – had filled her bladder very rapidly from “desperate but manageable” to “out of control”. She dismounted her bike in the parking lot and left it unattended to fall on its side as she dashed in, with her bike helmet still on. She ran down the hallway to the bathroom, and seized the handle.

But it was locked! She knocked, dancing on the spot, and no answer came. She knocked again, yelling a mild profanity, and still no one answered. Someone had locked it from the inside! What moron, what idiot would ever–

...Oh, right. It had been Jill who'd condemned herself to this fate, by locking the door to keep Birdy out the other day. No one had come by and fixed it yet. She crumpled up outside the bathroom door in desperation; she fell to her knees and, holding her crotch in both hands, pressed her face into the V her arms made and moaned. Staying dry was torture, and she seriously considered peeing herself just to end it. Rejecting that option, though, she tried the handle again.

“Please...” she whispered.

The magic word was ineffectual. Jill rose to her feet again and, not wanting to ruin her nice sneakers, resolved to keep holding on. She clambered back through the hall to the exit. Unable to mount her bike, she began trundling it home. Luck had pulled its rare trick and failed her, so she felt not only full to the brim with pee but also betrayed.

When she got home, she took time to lock her bike to its post, frantic though she was. When it came time to take off her helmet, she stood by the bike rack, shuffling her feet urgently, frozen by indecision – take it off for comfort? Or leave it on to save time?

Oddly, this choke-point in thoughts cleared her mind, rather than putting it into overdrive. She stood as still as she could to take a deep breath and try to think. The effect of being denied an expected toilet break was wearing off, and she was starting to think she could control herself a little longer...if she could deal with the pain.

She nodded slowly, and, consumed by the new plan, forgot about her bike helmet entirely as she walked inside. She walked over to the couch and considered sitting down, but figured it would be too much for her bladder, so she remained standing. Always, her hips were moving in circles, keeping her from leaking. She tried repeatedly to stop, but failed every time.

This was the sexiest part of the hold for her; she was glad she'd opted to wait.

Before long, however, the situation grew dire, and her hopes of continuing to hold dimmed. Jill still wanted to take this one as far as she could, though, so rather than call it quits, she grabbed two towels from the bathroom shelf – trying not to look at the toilet, but stealing a longing glance anyway – and put them on the kitchen floor, which was tiled and pee-safe. Then she brought in her laptop, put it on the counter, and began playing the sandbox game again, while on her feet. She had to put the game on its easiest setting, where no enemies would appear at all, because every couple of minutes a pang of pressure would attack and she would need to step away from the keyboard at a moment's notice.

As minutes passed, the cycle of standing cross-legged at the laptop for a few minutes and then dancing for a few seconds slowly reversed, becoming one of a few minutes' holding to a few seconds' playing, until at last she could not keep her hands away from her crotch long enough to do anything in-game, and she closed her laptop and stepped back.

Through the agony, Jill saw that she couldn't put it off any longer: she needed to pee right now.

She began hobbling towards the bathroom, but it was too late; before she'd stepped off the towels, a spurt of pee shot out of her and soaked a patch on the front of her gray sweatpants, forming an iconic peed-her-pants spot on her crotch. The stream had lasted less than a second, but the patch was totally saturated with pee, and it spread two tendrils of wetness halfway down her legs. Jill rolled her eyes back with the effort of stopping the stream, and grunted loudly. This was the final stretch! She was thirty feet from her bathroom! If she could just–!

...But the pressure was too much. Despite Jill putting forth every bit of strength she had, despite her cranking every resource to maximum power, despite her franticly wishing it wouldn't end, she couldn't keep her bladder's contents contained any longer. Piss jetted out of her a little slower than normal while she fought it, but soon she gave up and allowed it to flow uninhibited. It soaked her sweatpants in a matter of seconds and filled up both towels in just another minute, then began pooling up on the kitchen floor.

As she finished wetting herself, Jill sank to her knees, overcome by relief.

She had needed this one.

It took about half an hour for Jill to clean up the puddle in her kitchen, and for once she didn't procrastinate. She remained in her soaked sweatpants while doing the job, even though it required her to bend fully over as she scrubbed the floor, to avoid wiping her legs on the clean parts.

When she was done, she went into the bathroom and took her clothes off for a shower. First the wets: sweatpants, socks, and undies; then the dries: sweatshirt, t-shirt (no bra) and...bike helmet.

She showered, admiring her newly flat belly from time to time, then toweled off and, as usual, proceeded out into her living room completely naked. She sat down at her work table to do some editing, feeling reinvigorated from having emptied such a full bladder.

END OF THIRD STORY

~

Hey OmoOrg!

It was a blast to write this story, and I'm super happy to finally be sharing it.  All told, it clocked in at 22.8k words, or about 43 pages on my computer.  All feedback, especially (constructive) criticism, is very welcome!

That said, it was also pretty exhausting, and I will probably be taking a break from writing these for a while.  I certainly haven't given up on the series, though, and while I don't promise anything, I'll be hoping to start writing more again in a couple of months (if all goes to plan, this will manifest as a story actually appearing here in about 5-8 months, depending on its length and my schedule).

Before you go, I'd love to hear your opinions on some things.  On the subject of future stories, I've been tossing around a couple of ideas in my head.  These include:

    1) Writing shorter stories, something more on the order of 5-10k words.

    2) Writing an even longer story, possibly something like a short novel (= 50k+ words...unlikely to actually happen).

    3) Hosting an interactive story that actually counts as canon and will affect the stories that come after it.

I'm especially interested to know what you'd think of an interactive story; I've been curious about what it would be like to do one of those for a while, and if enough people ask for it then it shall happen.

Let me know what you think.  Happy omo-ing 🙂

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Thanks for this, it was a great story, though given how little Daisy and Jill's stories linked up I think it would have been better to split them both up into 2 smaller stories, just focusing on Jill in one and Daisy in the other.

That said, to answer your questions, if you'll write an interactive story I'll certainly read it if it's anything like the stories you've already written. The length of the stories you've already written are fine though.

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  • 2 years later...

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