Dimwitrolo 3,018 Posted August 14, 2018 Popular Post Share Posted August 14, 2018 I wake up. It was just a dream. Thank god. I push myself up against my mattress and look around. Nothing. Well, nothing I can see. It's pitch black. What time is it? I pick my phone up off the bed and press the home button - the light almost blinds me. I recoil backwards. It takes me a good few seconds to let my eyes adjust to the light - but when they do I find out it's 3AM. Three in the morning. Of course. Why would I not wake up at three in the damn morning? Well. Could be worse. Could be 2. I take bearing of myself. That dream's still got me thrown off - I don't really know what's real right now. I look down at myself. The usual - good. My usual pasty white frame, under my favourite green PJs. The shorts have ridden quite far up my rear, but they're still my usual shorts. That does explain why I could feel that in my dream. Bloody squid... I sigh and lay back onto my bed, with a subtle *poof* as I hit the mattress. My phone goes off again and I'm left in the dark once more, with only me, my PJs, and my surprisingly full bladder. I really need to pee. Damn. I hate that. Waking up with a full bladder. And I mean FULL right now. I really need to pee. Super bad. I don't want to get out of my bed! It's nice and comfy and warm and nice and....really uncomfortable right now. Stupid bladder. Why can't you not be full? Still, I suppose I should be glad it is full right now. I've woke up with it empty before... It wasn't my fault though - I was dreaming, and there was a toilet, and it was so inviting and realistic...Look, it wasn't my fault! I sat down, and when I woke up, I'd discovered that the toilet wasn't quite so real as I'd thought it was. What was real though was the cold damp feeling all up my body. My shorts and shirt, clinging to me, all the way up to my neck. That was a huge puddle. I'd been sleeping on my front too, I was practically kissing my wet... Ew. I don't want to go into detail... I didn't know I could even hold that much - well, I suppose I couldn't. Which is why I was in a puddle with a very empty bladder. Man did my room mates tease me about that. Well, they still do. Tara in particular. I tried getting my own back a week later, by putting her hands in warm water. Turns out that doesn't work. At all. Instead of wetting herself as she slept, she woke up and threw the water at me, then joked that I'd managed to wet myself again. Twice in a week. "Ha ha Sophie, if you keep wetting yourself like this, we'll need to get you diapers" Ha ha, real funny Tara. I'll get her one day. It was a year ago though, so they don't tease me quite so much. Usually. T-that's enough digressing for now - my bladder's begging me to empty it. I have to go sooo bad! It feels like a rock down there - christ, I can practically see it bulging out of me. Or have I gained weight? I press down on the bulge to be sure - it's definitely my bladder. Why did I press it! I nearly peed! Well, I guess I better get out of bed. I toss the quilt off of me and kick my legs over the side of the bed. The cold comes as a shock to me, and I almost being peeing where I sit. Almost, but not quite. I look around again. I've gotten a little used to the dark now, and I can make out some things. L-like the man, standing over me, watching me - Oh. Nevermind. That's just my coat hanging on the wardrobe. A-heh. Hmm. This bed is warm. Outside of bed is not. I really don't want to get out of bed. But I gotta pee so bad! Well...I've already got a reputation in this house. I guess it wouldn't hurt if I lied back down and just...No. I'm not doing that - gross! Man, imagine being so lazy you wet yourself rather than getting up. Just sitting and letting it all in your clothes, too lazy to get up. Hot pee running down you, leaving a puddle. I guess you'd have to clean that up, so that'd be more work. At least it'd be warm - Gross! What am I thinking this for. I'm not just gonna pee myself. It would be easier thou- NO. No peeing, not in bed. I throw myself forward and my bare feet hit the carpet. I nearly stumble forward, but I catch my balance. Even my carpet feels cold on my feet, compared to my lovely warm bed. I fold my arms as I shiver - the cold is really not helping my cause right now, I gotta go soooo bad. I step forward cautiously, step by step, as I inch my way to the door. One of my hands falls out of it's folded position so I can hold myself - I don't think I can hold it any other way right now. One hand clenched between my legs, I reach for the doorknob. And I miss. I swipe at the door a couple times until my free hand catches the knob, which it then twists to the left. W-wrong way. I twist again to the left and pull my door open, only to be greeted by the empty corridor. I jump. T-that shouldn't have scared me. T-that dream has really got me on edge right now, I don't know what's around the corner, or what's waiting for me, or....I have to pee so bad. I can't even think straight right now. I bend at the knees and bob on the spot for a few seconds, trying to make it less painful. Poking my head through the doorway, I look down the corridor to either side. I can't see fucking anything. My eyes don't get used to the dark either, so I'm pretty much blind. I can't walk down there - someone might be hiding! I know! I'll get my phone. That has a torch, right? That'll shine my - No it doesn't. I dropped it last week, and now the torch is dead. I can still use the screen light though, right? Yeah. I stumble back toward my bed, where my phone is lying somewhere. Even in the dark, my bed looks so inviting. The covers are still warm, I can make out the rough imprint of my head in the pillow. I just want to climb back in - but I can feel my bladder begging me not to. It's almost pulling at me like a dog, 'Don't do it!' it shouts. 'Empty me first!'. I guess I'm not getting into bed. Now I just gotta find my phone. Why does my phone have to be white. The same colour as my sheets - I can't see it for love nor money. I pat around on the edge of my bed, but to no avail. All I can feel is my bladder pulsating inside me as it reaches it's limit, begging for release. I lean forward further over my bed, pressing down on my poor bladder. It feels like a boulder inside me, It's so hard to hold it right now....Hnnnn....Crap! I think... I can feel...aww crap. Yeah, that's definitely something wet down there...I leap forward onto my bed - face first into my phone. At least now I know where that is. Why did I get back on my bed. Now I want to sleep again - damp spot or not. It's so comfy...It's so soft, and warm, and cosy and...getting gradually quite cold. I can't sleep right now - I'm really on the edge here. I'm really about to burst, I have to pee, I'm about to wet myself, I really need to...Well, to start, I really need to get out of bed. But it's so cosy! Ouch! My bladder reminds me why I'm getting out of bed with a sharp pang. I've already got a tiny damp spot - this isn't the time to be goofing off. I push myself back up with my phone in one hand, and once I'm stood up again, my other hand firmly between my thighs. I'm practically crushing my fingers between my legs I've got them so clamped shut. I step forward again, with the dim glow from my phone illuminating my path. In the light I can see my bare legs move forward slightly each time, barely daring to move away from each other incase the slightest gap between them would make me burst like a balloon - something which I think might happen. This is such a strange feeling right now - I'm still half asleep, but I feel wide awake too. I have to pee so badly right now - I don't have time to think. One leg after the other, ankles brushing past with each step, I slowly make my way to the door of my room again. Each step is agony as my heel hits the ground, sending a shudder all the way up to my oh-so-full bladder. Each time I think I'm gonna burst, but without so much as a drip, I edge forward. Step. After. Step. The hallway greets me again, this time with the dim light of my phone to show me down it. All the doors are closed. Tara's room, Jess's room, and of course, the bathroom. I swear to god, if someone's in there... Every single time I wake up needing to pee like this, Tara's in there - and it's always Tara. Without fail. Like she's doing it on purpose. I think she might just like to see me hopping up and down when she opens the door, practically peeing on the spot as she calmly and happily waltzes out the shower. One day she's gonna make me have an accident - I just know it. Then the teasing goes up again. "Ha ha ha looks like you really do need diapers" What I really need is to pee. But in relation to the story, a second bathroom. Or a bucket. You know what, if I do wet myself because of her, I'm gonna get some on her. Like on her feet - I'm not gonna throw it at her, but I'll try to make a puddle so big she gets her feet wet. That'll show her. Wet foot Tara. T-that wouldn't work. But it's gonna happen one day, she'll take too long in the shower, and I'll end up going in my shorts, leaning on the door, shouting as I relieve myself against my will. Hell, that last part might be happening soon if I don't get going. I step toward the bathroom, carefully treading on the solid wood floor ahead. The cold hits me like a truck, and I almost lose control again. It's so cold! Why is it so cold! I should have put socks on or something - but I'm not going back now - I can barely even think about putting pressure on my bladder - leaning forward to put socks on - why, I'd pee on the spot. I wouldn't have my sock up to my ankle by the time I'd be sat in my own little lake. Guess I'm gonna have to put up with cold feet. Sorry, toes. From this point on, each step feels like a minor victory. Tearing my feet from the floor and lurching them forward is far more effort than I'd care to admit, and I'm practically moaning with each step. Each cold step on the floor sends more shudders into my bladder, which threatens to burst each and every time. This is agony. But I've come so far - no giving up now. I step forward again and - Eep! D-did you hear that? S-something downstairs? I try to ignore my bladder and I hop over to the banister of the stairs. I look straight down, one hand holding my phone over so I can see downwards. Nothing. But I hear it again. "W-who's down there?" I whimper, trying and failing to sound at all confident. Something quickly scampers downstairs, going silent for a moment. It's burglars. Or a fox. Or a monster - something's in this house - I have to find out.... My bladder begs me not to - but this is more important right now. I can feel it trying to squeeze itself, but I hold back and shuffle my way to the end of the stairs. I stare down them into the hallway. Nothing. Pitch black nothing. I slowly hobble my way downstairs, my bladder screaming at me for every inch I get further from our bathroom. By the time my feet thump onto the floor at the bottom I'm ready to - Hnng! Crap...ready for that I suppose. I shiver as something warm slides down my leg - I can only imagine what it is. N-not much mind you, but that's definitely a drip running down my left thigh...down to my ankle...and it splashes on the floor. One drip. I-I'm okay. Is there a wet patch? I dread to look, but it feels like there might be. I run my left foot over the single wet drop on the floor to hide it, smearing it over the wood. I can't wet myself now - not in the hallway - Not when there might be something in here.... I step forward again, lifting my foot away from the damp spot on the ground. Now that foot is even colder in one very specific part. This is hell...I'm cold, I'm scared, and I'm on the edge of peeing myself in the hallway like a little girl. I swallow, and step forward again, waving my phone's dim light in front of me, as if it might help. Another step, my foot gently slapping the wooden floor as it lands. I pad forward with my other foot, as if testing the waters. Of course the water is wood - and the only actual liquid I can feel is the massive ball of it inside me - and the tiny damp streak down my leg. A single cool breeze blows through the house, stinging on my wetter skin and nearly causing another lapse in strength - but I don't lose a drop. I don't think I do anyway, it's hard to tell. I'm not getting colder down south though, so I guess I did fine. I step forward again. This silence is deafening. My quivering breaths seem to sound all around the house - I can hear my shirt move as I quiver here - a mixture of fear and an absolute need to relieve myself. I know which is stronger right now, and it's begging me to go back upstairs to that toilet...Just the thought of the toilet is gonna have me burst on the spot. I can't wet myself though...I can't. I'm 25, not 2. I can make it. I step forward once more, now in arms reach of the kitchen door way. I can make out the table in the middle - the chairs around it...I can just about tell the difference between the oven and the cupboards, and the- Shit! S-Something moved! I-I-I I'm not kidding! I saw something! I'm fully alert now, and stood back on my toes, clutching my phone to my chest with one hand. My other hand is - well, you know where it is. It's practically merging into my belly at this point. I stand dead still for a moment. An agonising, long, moment. My bladder is practically bursting out of me, but I'm paralysed by fear - Don't laugh! You would be too! It's 3 in the morning, I'm in my PJs, and there's something in my house! A-and I'm wetting myself! D-damn, that last part was meant to be figurative - but right now I think I'm gonna....Gonna... Hnng! B-balls. I did it again - another drip has just splattered onto the floor beneath me. At least that surge of energy has me moving again - I've gone from back straight and on my toes, to bent over double, staring at the floor, with my feet pointed inwards. As soon as I can manage, I glance upward. Kitchen comes into view. Silent. Still. Silent. Still. Sil-WHAT WAS THAT. "Yeep!" I yeep as I throw myself back at the wall as something black and tiny and horrible strikes onto the table - something awful and... Oh for fuck's sake. He's not horrible - he's Tiddles, the house cat. From next door. The black cat from next door. What's he doing in our - W-why do I feel so warm now? Crap! I peed! Q-quite a bit too! I must have been too shocked to notice, but I let out a big spurt just then - there's drips on the floor beneath me and everything! My hand's soaked over, there's a big wet patch on my shorts...and I feel very silly. I step over to the table and grab the cat by the neck, running my hand down his back to stroke him. "You absolute bastard, you..." I whisper, as I run my hands over his body. He purrs, steps toward me and tries to push his head into mine. One of my hands falls back to it's position between my legs, while the other scritches tiddles behind the ears. "You made me do this." I whisper to him, pointing at my wet crotch. I wouldn't usually bring so much attention to that to most boys, but tiddles is different. On account of him being a small black cat. Tiddles hops off the table and wanders around back into the living room. I watch as he slunks out of view. And then I remember why I'm down here. Another sharp pang in my bladder has me bent over double once more, ass against the wall. I moan quite loudly, followed by me blushing quite redly. I can't believe I just moaned like that...What would my house mates think if they could hear me. "Gee Sophie, why did you go downstairs last night, were you getting yourself off in the kitchen or something?" At least that would be more adult that just pissing myself. In my PJs no less. These were the PJs I'd wet before - that time I had the dream about the toilet and wet the bed - that time that wasn't my fault. I can't wet them twice. Well, I can't wet them anymore...I hope. I also should shut that window - I guess that's how tiddles got in, that would- "EEP!" I stand on my tiptoes again, clutching my chest once more, and splashing a little yet again. I hear a quiet catty yelp before I see a slightly damp tiddles make a beeline for the window - diving out of it like something out of an action movie. "You...furry bastard! Look what you made me do!" I whisper-shout, slamming my hand back into my now-warm-again crotch. All this pee down here, I'm surprised I still even have to go. There's a puddle the size of a small ash-tray beneath me right now. And a smaller one forming - I can feel that one. I've stopped peeing, but my shorts have enough soaked in that they're dribbling down my leg. I can feel a tiny puddle forming beneath the toes of my right foot - at least it's warmer than the tiled floor. G-gross. Well. I guess now I know what the noise was. I better shut that window. Once more, I labour onward, though not quite so awkwardly as before. There's some relief to my bladder, now that I've gone and lost some of it's contents already. Probably about two-shot glasses worth, but right now all I want is a pint. To get out of me. And the rest of it, too. It's all I can think of right now. Oh god I have to pee so much. Stepping forward is easier now, but I know it's gonna get much harder. I know what my bladder's like - I've been caught a couple times like this - the first leak big enough to feel relief is the most dangerous point. Because my bladder wants more - and it wants it now. I've had times back at my parents house where I've ended up like this. First leak is always the moment where I know that I've got less than a minute - my bladder replaces that leak and then some. I can already feel it compensating for lost liquid... I lurch forward, using my free arm to push myself along the kitchen counter to the open window. My feet slap on the tiled floor as I move, thundering through the silence of the house. When I reach the counter below the window, I stretch myself forward and grab the window handle - but I don't really notice myself pull the window shut - instead I notice a hot burst in my shorts, followed by my second hand slamming into a hot, fresh stream. Then the sounds of the window falling shut, and the splashing of liquid on feet. D-dammit. I leaked again. I'm so far gone at this point, leaks aren't even annoying me. I just kind of expect them at this point. I'm not gonna make it back to the bathroom, am I? At this point, I'm better off cutting my losses and peeing into a bowl or something. There's got to be one in the sink, right? The sink is at the farthest point of the kitchen, with a table dividing the room in two. If you stand at the sink, you have to walk all the way around the table to get back out. That doesn't sound like much, but right now, it looks like a marathon. But I'm bursting. I have to make some quick choices. If I reach the sink, there might be a dirty bowl, or a cup, or...something. I can pee in that. If there's nothing....then I'm fucked. I'm too short to hike myself onto the sink, and even if I wasn't, I'd wake everyone up as I crash into it. There's a sight for the room-mates, me pissing into a sink while moaning like I've just had the single best orgasm of my life - piss splashing and hissing as it sprays onto the metal surface of the sink. My legs hanging over the edge. And then me needing someone to help me back out. Not happening. On the other hand, I might make it to the bathroom if I leave now. But then I might not. I'm gonna risk it. Without looking up, I shove one hand between my damp thighs, and cling to the side with the other. Staring at the floor and bent over double, I drag myself toward the sink. As the cold metal of the draining rack catches my hand, I look up into the sink. An empty basin greets me. Fuck. The dishwasher's next to me at least, if there's something dirty in there, I can pee in that, and put it back... I yank it open, only to be greeted by the rare sight of it being full of clean crockery. The ONE TIME Tara decides it's her turn to do the dishes...why couldn't she have left it off! Like she usually does! I swear, she does this on purpose, it's like sh- FFffffffffff-FUCK! It happened again - I spurted. I fucking spurted again. A splash on the floor behind me, and a hot burst around my backside - it's undeniable. That was a spurt. I'm inches away from having a complete accident in my PJs. That spurt's taken a lot out of me - I stand on the spot, breathing heavily as I try to catch my breath. Each breath into my body presses down onto my poor, poor bladder. I know I feel a couple more drips make their way into my shorts as I breath in - at least two....make that three. This is it. I've lost. I'm wetting myself. I'm...I'm 25, and I'm wetting myself in the kitchen like a dumb....kid. Ffuck... No. No. Not happening. Not now, not happening. I wipe a single frustrated tear from my face with the wrong hand - now my face is wetter. No time for that though - I can wash it later - right now, I've gotta go. I NEED to move. My legs don't wait for me to tell them - they just move, as best they can. By which I mean they shuffle forward, clinging together like magnets. Quite wet magnets. My feet slap on the floor with every step, though now the slaps sound slightly wet. Which is disheartening to say the least. I try to get a glance behind me, and I catch a couple of wet foot prints on the floor, amongst a significant number of drops. My body-twist forces out another few drips - mostly splashing the ground, though one scores a direct hit on my ankle. I hear myself whimper again. "Come on. Not now." Good. Now I'm talking to myself too. This is going well. I stumble forward further, making it to the hallway before I'm caught by another desperate wave. My body tenses, and so does my bladder. But so do my fingers - the real heroes of the day. A single drip manages to make it out through my valiant defense, and it dribbles down my left thigh silently. Uwaaaa! It ran over my kneepit... Come on. Not long. I lurch my way forward to the steps again, with more effort than ever before. The cold seat of my shorts is now motivating me - I want to make at least half the steps before it goes warm again. God, look at me - I'm not even bargaining to make it any more, just to make it partially. 'If I can just reach the bathroom before I wet myself'. No. I'm making it to the toilet. I WILL Make it. I have to make it. The steps loom over me like a mountain. I've never been mountaineering, but I'm sure I'm getting the experience right now. The steps ahead might as well be snow-capped for all it's worth right now. That wouldn't be so cold as this damn floor though. Up I go. The first step is agony, and it doesn't end well. I've barely planted my foot down before I hear familiar dripping of liquid on wood, and feel a familiar heat of fabric. I don't try to stop myself though - that's a losing game - I charge up the stairs. I stop trying to hold back, and instead I throw my feet upward, two stairs at a time, doing my best to ignore the sudden burst of heat running into my shorts. Doing my best to ignore the obvious trail of damp carpet beneath me - it's not massive, but it's obvious. Like I've spilled tea up the stairs, but instead of tea, it's....Well, we both know exactly what hot liquid it is - not something I want to drink for sure. I don't stop myself running until I hit the wall of the landing upstairs, by which point my shorts are very wet, very warm, and very much dripping. I force my bladder shut. Ahem. I force my bladder sh- Why isn't it stopping. I try and I try, but I can't halt the stream - I'm leaning against the wall, both hands pulling myself up so hard I might lift off the floor, but there's a trickle that WON'T STOP. I'm past the point of stopping now. I have to be. I can't make it any more. I'm wetting myself. I push my hand to the left and throw the bathroom door open. It swings open, and the toilet greets me from across the room. Such a sight for sore eyes right now - finally I can... S-stop! S-STOP! I can't! My bladder's lost it - I can't hold back. I've got one hand pressing into me as best it can, but pee is being split into my palm like it's nothing. It's running through my fingers, it's running down my shorts - it's splashing against the floor, over my feet, onto the carpet! And I can't stop it! I'm completely peeing now! There's no stopping it - my bladder is out of control and emptying itself into my hand. Into my shorts, into my hallway. Hot liquid streams down both my legs, wrapping around my thighs and my calves, wrapping around my ankles and streaming between my toes. The carpet beneath me is getting sodden and hot as I stand here, urinating into it. But I can't stop it! No matter how hard I try! Time for plan Z - make it to the toilet. At least I can keep the floor dry if I - I can't move. FUCK!. I'm putting too much effort into stopping the flow - ceaseless though it is. I stare at the toilet from my rapidly growing hot wet podium, and it almost stares back, as if to tease me. Fuck it. No more holding. My hand falls from the stream beneath it, and I stop trying to hold. My hand flicks warm pee forward as it moves, and as I give up on holding my stream bursts into a spray, complete with a thunderous hiss. The shock of it almost stops me, and it certainly leaves me moaning like I'm doing something that usually involves another person. Either way, I'm sure I've woke up at least one house mate. As the shock fades, I realise what I'm doing - and what I'm doing is peeing at full force. Into my Pjs. I can do this. I take a deep breath - still peeing as I do - and consider my plan. I'm gonna dive forwad into the bathroom. I'm gonna throw myself into the shower, and I'm going to wet myself. I am going to quite deliberately wet myself into the shower. I'm already wetting myself - I'm way too into this right now to stop. I can't - I've tried. I might as well wet myself somewhere that won't ruin the carpet. I don't want to get pee all over the toilet seat, and the sink is out of the question. It's now or never. I take one more deep breath, I continue to wet myself, and I charge forward. My feet slap on the tiled floor, throwing dribbles of pee from my soaked shorts around me as I do. I try to ignore it. Another step forward, and another, and one more, and then I throw my body at the shower. It slams against the walls, spraying droplets of pee from my shorts onto the tiled wall - but I've finally made it somewhere safe. I've made it. I'm wetting myself. But I've made it. I bend over again, ass against the wall, peeing loudly into my PJs, holding onto my knees for support. My PJs glisten in the dim light, and pee pours from the leg-holes. Pee crashes down the wall behind me, pee streaks down my legs, pee pours onto the base of the shower, pee...Pee. I take in one more deep breath and sigh. I've never felt so glad to be wetting myself. The relief finally hits me and I moan again, leaning back against the wall and closing my legs together, letting the pee run between them - it's so warm... This feels so strange... I've gone from trying so hard to stop, to letting it happen... Pee's gone from feeling gross and bad, to so nice and warm...I love the feeling as it pours into my shorts - I love the heat of my damp shorts clinging to me. I love the warmth as more pee runs over my legs and pools around my bare feet. I love the warm puddle I'm standing in. I even love the look - yellow streaks down my pale legs, a yellow puddle around my feet and draining into the shower drain. I let my head fall back against the wall and sigh again, though it turns into something of a giggle. My. God. This. Feels. So. Good! Hahh..Hahhh...I can't believe this. I'm wetting myself. I really am. Did I mention that? Because I'm really, actually wetting myself. I'm peeing my pants, I'm soiling my shorts, I'm having an accident, I'm...loving every moment. I never knew relief could feel this good.... Haaaahhhh..... After what must have been a solid minute, it stops. The hiss stops first, shortly followed by the tickling stream on my thighs, followed by the constant heating feeling around my ass. The fabric begins to cool. The dripping stops, and the streaks down my legs slow down until they're just the wet streaks left behind, glistening. The puddle at my feet shrinks, and shrinks....and it's gone. It's just me, alone, in the shower, in my wet shorts. I giggle. I know, it's silly, but right now I feel amazing. I pee'd so much, I had to go so bad - and now, I don'! Isn't that amazing!? It sure feels it...wowww.... I sigh, and I let myself slide down onto my backside. I kick a couple of shampoo bottles out the way as I slide to the floor. The seat of my shorts is soaked and cold. The front of my shorts are the same. The floor of the shower is slightly yellowed as remnants of my accident still sit there, waiting to be rinsed away. I look down at myself and giggle again. I look up. I take a deep breath. I've gotta clean all that mess up. All the puddles downstairs, the wet carpet at the top of the stairs...the wet floor in here. And then my wet PJs too. At least this time I didn't wet the bed. I push my hands down on the floor and- "Soph?" I freeze. The light comes on. "What are...." Tara begins, before she cuts herself off with laughter. "W-wow!" "D-did....did you see that?" "All of it." She answers with a smirk. "From the second you hit the top of the stairs." "F......fuck." "Yeah, 'fuck'." She smiles at me, carefully stepping toward me to avoid the tiny puddles across the floor. She squats down in front of me, forgetting that she's wearing a night-dress. I can see straight into her striped underwear. I can't help but glance - not in a lewd way - I just can't help it. She notices and smirks at me though. "See something you like?" She asks. I ignore her. "You...you won't tell anyone, w-will you?" I mutter. "Hmm...Should I tell everyone I caught you masturbating in the shower? Covered in pee?" "W-what, I wasn't doing that!" "Oh, you liar!" She says. "I heard you moaning - you loved every second!" She says, leaning in toward me. I can feel her breath on my chin now - she's inches away. I can't pull my head back - it's already pressed to the wall. "I...I wasn't...I swear...." "Sure. Sure you weren't." She says, smiling at me, and putting a hand on my thigh, just below my shorts. "P-please don't say anything..." I ask, politely. "Hmm..." She says, thinking. "What do I get in return?" TO BE CONTINUED donnydom, xinycep, WaityKaty and 15 others 18 Quote Link to comment
Nikeryda 181 Posted August 14, 2018 Share Posted August 14, 2018 Towards the start of this story I was honestly thinking she was going to somehow pee in Tara's bed. I absolutely love the constant leaking but still somehow staying in control for most of it and the fact she still peed a minute after leaking so much was amazing too. Another fantastic story Rolo. Quote Link to comment
Melificentfan 1,215 Posted August 14, 2018 ✨ Legendary Member Share Posted August 14, 2018 I am so loving this so far Quote Link to comment
Ghostblade913 221 Posted August 15, 2018 Share Posted August 15, 2018 That was amazing Quote Link to comment
Manowar 170 Posted August 16, 2018 Share Posted August 16, 2018 I have a feeling that Sophie and Tara aren't very close friends and this late night mishap will cost a lot... Great story. I am waiting for next! Quote Link to comment
remos6 22 Posted August 18, 2018 Share Posted August 18, 2018 Enjoying this so far - followed and looking forward to more. I like the writing style, it works well together with Soph's internal monologue. Quote Link to comment
Drakon 114 Posted September 2, 2018 Share Posted September 2, 2018 I love all the details! Your writing is sooo descriptive and it’s amazing! Thanks for contributing such an amazing piece to the community! Quote Link to comment
Valeri night 139 Posted September 4, 2018 Share Posted September 4, 2018 Yes this is good. Real good. A new personal favorite I think. ? Quote Link to comment
Dimwitrolo 3,018 Posted September 5, 2018 Author Popular Post Share Posted September 5, 2018 "Here." I say as I drop the tray onto Tara's desk. "Your tea, just like you asked." "your tea...?" Tara says, waiting for my answer. I sigh before I answer. "Your tea...Mistress." "That's better Sophie!" She says, smirking and leaning back on her chair. "I could really use some tea right now." "Come on Tara." I say, sighing again and leaning on my hip. "I've done everything you wanted for the day - can I go to bed now? It's super late." "Hmm, it's not quite the end of the day yet..." Tara says, feigning thought and putting her hand on her chin. "I did say you'd have to be my maid for the day or..." "Yes I know, or you tell everyone what happened." I interrupt her, frowning. "After all." She says, getting louder. "It's not every day I catch my house-mate wett-" "Y-Yes Tara! I know! You don't have to shout." I say quickly, cutting her off and trying my best not to blush red. She smirks at me in response. "Hmm." Says Tara, picking up her tea cup and looking inside. "I didn't ask for milk." I shake my head and frown at her. I know what's coming next. "Would you kindly make me another one? No milk this time." She says, handing me the cup. I frown harder. "Look, I'm gonna use the toilet before I do alright? I gotta go pretty-" "Well I need that tea pretty bad." She says, cutting me off. "And I'd hate to have to tell everyone what-." "Fine." I frown at her, taking the tea cup. "I'll get you some more tea." "And try smiling once in a while." She says. I cast her the most sarcastic grin I can, before turning on my heels and leaving her room, muttering foul words under my breath. Stupid Tara. Why her? Of all my house-mates, why did it have to be her? At least Angie might have kept it quiet if I asked her nicely - I've got a few bits of dirt on her that I could ply her with - or Jessica. She still owes me for helping her with that coursework. But no. It was Tara. Who owes me nothing, and I have no dirt on, and who is apparently pure evil. If it's not obvious, she's had me acting as her maid all day in return for not telling everyone else what happened last night. Well, I say last night, it was a few days ago, but Tara's been out for those days and she wanted to make the most of a maid, so we agreed it would be today. I say agreed - Tara threatened to tell everyone if it wasn't today. Tara's not got any plans, and neither did I. So she's spent the entire day getting me to do stupid things. I suppose I should be happy she hasn't got me wearing a maid's dress or something - luckily for me I can at least wear my normal clothes. Grey tracksuit bottoms, my comfy white tee - which I really should have thrown out at least a year ago - and a comfy pair of fluffy socks. I reach the kitchen with cup still in hand. I set it down on the table and set to making a new cup of tea. I really wish she'd let me use the bathroom first, I really need to be going to the toilet soon. And pouring the water into the kettle isn't helping! The pouring and the splashing...Not helpful. I put the kettle on it's little mount and set it to boil, dropping myself backward into one of the kitchen chairs as I wait. Now I've got a few seconds to contemplate everything that led up to this. I rest one arm over the backrest and kick one leg over the other. The other leg I mean, not the other backrest - I'm not an acrobat. How did I manage this? I can't believe I got so paranoid... If someone was ever in the house at night, I'd hear it. Footsteps and clunking around - not the faint noises of the neighbour's cat wandering around. I can't believe I went downstairs - I should have just gone to the toilet when I had the chance. Next time I won't even consider noises downstairs. If there is really a burglar, he can come upstairs and find me on the toilet. Ugh, why can't I stop thinking about using the toilet? Oh I know. It's because I haven't been since about midday. And now it's...what time is it now? I glance to the kitchen clock. It's about half past nine. So it's been a while. The kettle clicks as the water reaches the boil. I wrest myself out the chair and pour the water into the cup - again the pouring is agony. I pick up the fresh cup and make my way out. I reach the doorway and stop. This is Tara I've made tea for. She's sent me back down because she didn't ask for milk. But she always has milk. I know what she's doing.... She wants to send me back down for milk, just to annoy me. No - I'm one step ahead of her now. I step over to the fridge and pick up a half empty bottle of milk. Milk in hand, I turn around again and make my way to the stairs. I step back into Tara's room, with the milk hidden behind my back and the tea cup in front of me. "Oh Sophie, you forgot to take the tray with you." She says as I walk into the room. She's sat on her legs on the table, looking at her finger nails. "I was considering calling you back up to get it!". I consider it best to ignore her. "Your tea." I say in a flat tone. She looks up and raises and eyebrow. "M-mistress." I hiss through my teeth. She smiles a sickly smile and takes the tea out my hand. "Huh, I think I've changed my mind." She says with a wry smirk. "I think I will have milk." The moment I've been waiting for. I cast her a sarcastic grin and produce the milk bottle from behind my back. I can see she wasn't expecting that - she raises her eye brows and recoils a little. She looks at me with a little giggle. "That's pretty clever" She admits. I pour in some milk. "That enough?" I ask. She gives me an 'okay' sign with her hand. "Great. I'm going to the toi-" "And leave me here on my own? Without a drinking buddy?" She asks, trying to look hurt. She just looks stupid. That's nothing new though... I sigh and look at the milk. "You want me to drink this?" I ask, waving it a little. I can hear it splashing and it's making me need to go a bit more - but I can't show weakness in front of Tara. "No, silly." She says. "I want you to drink tea with me!" "Tara, I have to-" "Hey guys!" She says, pretending to talk to people. "You'll never guess what I caught Soph doing the other day!". I choose not to interrupt her - I just glare at her. She smiles back at me though. "Go on you. Go get some tea." I don't know who Tara learned from. Possibly Hitler. Possibly Genghis Khan. Either way, she's got that evil thing down to a tee. Luckily I didn't throw away that tea from earlier - our house spirit of laziness is paying off for once. I walk down the stairs, into the kitchen, pick up what's now my tea cup, put the milk back in the fridge, head back upstairs and into Tara's room. I take a seat on her bed. "Hey! You just made that bed!" She says to me, spinning to me on her chair. "Yes I know..." I mumble. "And I tidied your room, and I tidied the kitchen, and the lounge, and the hallway. All after making you lunch." I say, glaring at her. "Actually the house does look so much better now." Tara says, dropping her evil voice and speaking like normal for once. "The others are gonna be so surprised when they get back, right?" "Yeah, it's nice to see the house looking so neat." I say, also in my normal voice. Say what you like about what Tara's doing, the house is really neat. "Almost a shame to let the other two back in." She says, looking at me from behind her tea cup as she takes a sip. "Yeah, I suppose it is." "What makes you say that?" She asks with a smirk. "Because if they didn't have to come back." I tell her. "I wouldn't have to worry about you telling them anything." I say. She giggles. "But then the house wouldn't be so neat." We finish our teas slowly and in complete silence, except for her deliberate slurping. She knows it annoys me. I suppose after a day of having me around, she hasn't too much more to say. And I know I've got nothing to say to her until I'm of the hook. Also I'm concentrating quite hard on trying to hide how desperate I am for the bathroom - and the tea certainly isn't helping. We sit in this silence for a short while, until Tara breaks it by putting down her empty tea cup. "That was nice." She says, sitting back in her chair. She sweeps her feet off the ground and lands them on her bed, shoes and all. "I'm feeling pretty relaxed - hey Soph, can you take my shoes off?" "What?" I ask. "I don't want my bed getting all dirty." She says, as if it were obvious. Back to her evil tone I suppose. "Would you take my shoes off?" I sigh and lean forward, pulling on the laces. She's double knotted them. I hate that. Why double knot your shoes? Now I've got to fiddle around with - ah sod it - I pull the shoe off by the heel and toss it to one side. I grab Tara's other leg and yank the shoe off the same way. I look up at her as if for praise. "Now the socks." She says. I sigh again. I've been sighing a lot today. I yank her socks off one by one, then chuck them both at her. She giggles. "Now now." She says. "don't be cheeky." I'm almost surprised that's all she does though. I was half expecting her to threaten me with something horrible. "Anything else?" "Hmm..." She goes, putting one hand to her chin. "Not that I can think of right now..." "Great. I'm going to the toilet." I say, lifting myself off her bed. I barely move my leg forward when I feel something solid smack me in the bladder - Tara's foot, pushing me back down on the bed. "Not so soon, Soph." She says with that wry grin again. "It's not even ten yet." "Ugh." I moan. "When does this nonsense finish?" I ask her, trying not to show how much that hurt. She kicked me right in the bladder! I could've pee'd on the spot. "You're my servant for the day, Sophie. What time does the day end?" She asks, tilting her head to one side. "M-midnight." I mumble "That's right." She says. "Midnight. So sit here until I need you again." She says, kicking her feet onto my lap, leaning back in her chair and looking at her phone. I lean back on her bed, using my arms as support. It's getting quite hard to ignore my bladder now - and that tea certainly didn't help. I try to press my legs together a little, but Tara's heel is resting between the two. She looks up at me having felt me move, casting my another grin and stretching out her toes. I cast her back another sarcastic grin, which makes her giggle a little. She goes back to looking at her phone. I let myself fall back on her bed, which puts more pressure on my bladder. "Could you move your feet?" I ask. "They're really getting quite uncomfortable." I say to her. "Your socks look really comfy." She says in response. "What?" "Your socks. They look comfy." She repeats. I sit myself up. "Yeah, I guess." I say, looking over. "Want me to get you some?" She nods and points to my feet. "I want 'em." "Sure, I'll get you a pair on amazon." I say. "No, I want them now." "These are my only pair." I say to her. She nods again. I purse my lips and look her in the eye. She's pointing at them and pulling a face that's meant to look all cute and innocent. I really hate to admit it, but she does look kinda cute. Not innocent though, I know better than that. "You want this pair? now?" I ask again. She nods once more. "I've been wearing them all day." I tell her. "So they'll be warm?" She asks, tilting her head. I suppose there's no arguing with her. I bring my leg up and begin pulling off my sock. The pressure on my bladder shoots up and I let out a little moan in response. "What was that, Sophie?" She asks me. "W-what was what." "That moan." She says, Leaning toward me in her chair, resting her head on her hand. "Does someone need the toilet?" "Tara, I swear to god." I say, looking up from my foot as I pull my sock off completely. "Aww, you do, don't you?" "Yes. Now let me go, will you?" "Socks first." She says. I flick this one at her head. I drop my leg and bring up the other, trying and failing to not moan. I start pulling down at the ankle of the sock before something warm hits me in the head. The sock from before lands in my lap. "No, I want you to put it on." She says, pressing one foot into my chest. "But I just took it off." I protest, barely giving her the effort of looking up. "Put it on me, smarty!" She says, prodding me again. I roll the sock up and lazily wrap it over her foot, pulling it up to her ankle. "That is soft." She says. "I really want a pair now." "Come on Tara." I say. "I've been wearing these all day, they're dirty!" I tell her. "That's fine, I'm gonna shower tonight." She says. I take the other sock off and put it on her foot. She drops her feet to the floor. "These really are comfy." "Great." I say. "Now that you've taken your feet off me, I'm gonna-" "Come downstairs for a cup of tea?" She asks. That's not what I was going to say. "That's a great idea." She says. "Let's go and get some tea." "Of course..." I moan. "I'm gonna put on some slippers first-" "No time. Let's get tea." "But the floor's so cold down there!" I moan. "That's fine." Says Tara. "I'm wearing socks!" The floor down here is like ice. I don't know for sure right now that it isn't. I've got my arms folded and I'm softly hopping foot to foot in a combined effort to not need to pee and to keep my feet from freezing solid. "C-come on Tara, can't I just put a pair of slippers on? It's f-freezing down here!" "Oh Sophie." She says, turning to me and smirking. "I don't know what you mean." She says, sliding herself forward. "Are you not cold, Tara?" I ask, shivering. She's only wearing some light PJ shorts and a loose tee shirt - she's got to be a little chilly. Or maybe the floor's just so cold I feel like a block of ice. "Tea will warm you up, Soph!" She says, scooting her way over to the chair by the kettle and sitting herself down in it, before kicking her feet onto the table. "The quicker you make us both tea, the quicker you can go...off the floor." "Grand." I say, as I pick up the kettle and fill it. Again, the damn pouring is almost enough to kill me. It's almost too much...it's too much. I let my free hand land between my legs now - there's no use hiding that I need to go any more. Tara already knows it fully well. "Looks like you really do need to pee, Soph." She says, watching me bob up and down at the sink. The second the kettle's full enough for two cups I pull it away from the stream and kill the tap. "That might be why I've been trying to go for the past hour. It's already Half past ten and I've still not been." "Gee, when did you last go?" Tara asks me, with a mix of mocking and actual interest. "I don't remember you going today - and you've been with me for all of it." "Well, you did wake up at like one in the afternoon today." I remind her. "I got to go before then." "You should have said something!" Tara says with another grin. "That's some pretty important information, Soph." She adds. I don't bother with a response. She waits for a moment, but I don't even glance at her as I begin pouring water into the cups. The. Damn. Pouring. As I pour the cups my bladder begs me to let go. It's torture hearing all this water pouring, and knowing I'm about to take it in. It's agony, knowing that I could go to the toilet, but Tara is holding me back. If I go now, before she lets me, she's gonna tell everyone I wet myself the other day. It's just two more hours anyway - well, just under that. I can hold it. But man, is it gonna be close. "Tea." I say, as I put the cups on the table in front of her. I take a seat on a chair opposite Tara and take a sip of my tea. "Oh, Sophie." She says, standing out her chair. She walks over to the fridge and gets out the milk. "Look what you forgot." "Oh....whatever." I say, jiggling my legs and trying to concentrate my way through these next ninety minutes. She picks up the milk bottle, holds it at a height, and begins pouring. Very. Slowly. "T-tara..." I moan, staring as the milk gently splashes into her teacup. "S-stop..." "Why, Soph?" She asks. "Is something wrong?" "I...." "What?" "I have to pee really badly." I admit, blushing and looking away from her. "Do you now...?" She says, not paying attention, pouring the milk slightly slower. She tips the milk jug back and the pouring stops. I look up at her again. She's staring into her tea with her eyes half closed. "Want some milk?" She asks. Honestly I do, but I really don't want the pouring again... "N-no." I tell her. She looks up at me. "You liar." She says with a smile, before pouring milk into my tea. I can't look away as the stream slowly trickles out the bottle and into my tea, splashing and sending drops of tea into the air for a second, before they splash down back in the tea or on the table. It's painful to watch. My bladder is begging for some sort of relief, and right now it's getting the total opposite. I can almost predict a similar stream coming out of myself tonight... G-god, will she ever stop pouring? "T-that's enough milk, Tara." I say, putting one hand on the bottle to stop it. She smirks at me. "Come on now, drink up." She says, raising her glass to me. The next ten minutes are pure agony. Swallowing a mouthful of tea while my bladder is so full is some sort of torture, but Tara's practically forcing me to. She's not touching me of course, but I can't have her telling everyone what she caught me doing. So for now, I just have to shut up and put up. But I can't. Oh god I have to go. I'm sitting here, jiggling my legs and leaning back and forth while Tara pretends not to notice. I've half a mind to pull my track bottoms down and just go on the floor...but I know she'd make me mop it up. And probably tell everyone too. I have to go soooo bad... "everything alright, Soph?" She asks, as if she doesn't know. "N-no." I say. "You should sit still." She says. "Moving actually makes you need to pee more." She adds, before taking another sip of tea. I try to sit still. "See? Isn't that better?" "N-no!" I say. Jiggling harder than before. "Tough. Try sitting still." "What?" "Sit still. And drink your tea, you've hardly touched it." "...Fine." I say. I pick up the cup and look into it. My bladder screams no. It's begging me not to drink it...but I guess I have to. I take another sip. No sooner has the tea touched my lips than my bladder practically goes into spasm - I almost drop the cup as I send my hand between my legs - just in time to catch a tiny spurt. I feel my face go bright red. Tara looks up and grins. "Something wrong?" She asks. I don't answer. I sit completely still, with my hand against myself so tightly it threatens to crush me. "Hmm. I should probably let you go soon, huh?" Tara asks, taking another sip. "otherwise I'm gonna have to add cleaning to the list of things you need to do today." "P-please..." I mumble. I blush at myself saying this - I can't believe Tara's reduced me to practically begging her right now. Tara sighs. "Alright." She says. "Finish your tea, then rinse out the cups. Then you're free." I've never drunk so fast as I had the second she said that - it hit my bladder like a brick, but the thought of finally being able to go makes it all worth it. I feel another tiny warm few drips hit my thighs as I stand up, almost sending the chair over backwards. "I'm gonna go to bed then, Soph." Tara says with a smirk as I take the cups off the table. "But you've held your end of the deal. I'll keep quiet, okay?" I barely have time to answer as I throw on the hot tap and grab the soap, so I cast her a backwards thumbs-up. "Night." She says once more, and I hear her go upstairs. Time to wash. I thrust the first cup under the running warm water. The touch of water sends my bladder mad again, and I can feel dribbles coming out into my track bottoms as I run the sponge over the cup, wiping it clean. I'm quivering and moaning slightly, too busy to really pay attention to my bladder situation, but I know I can feel a thin wet stripe down the left leg. By the time I've got the second cup under the water I can feel a drip or two make their ways down my feet. With the cups rinsed, I slam them onto the drying rack and charge upstairs. Each step squishes out another tiny spurt from me. I can feel the heat grow as I get closer to the top - by halfway I can feel a wet patch the size of a tennis ball. I reach the top and my bladder almost gives way totally. I've made it! This is it! I take one glance at my pants to see the damage. As I thought there would be - there's a thin dark streak running down the inside of my left leg, though the tennis-ball sized patch is smaller than it feels. But it doesn't matter - I've made it. I just have to open the door and then- "Hey - I'm having a shower." What. Damn it Tara! You said I could - Hng! Oh god! It's too late. I know it. I can't hold it anymore. I've felt relief as I've been leaking, and my body begs for more. I can hear the shower running in the bathroom, I can feel the now-cooling patches on my pants...I can....I can't.... F-fuck. I can't hold it a second longer. It's all too much for me. I thought I'd made it! I lean against the bathroom door and the floodgates burst. Pee streams out of me like never before. It hisses like an angry animal as it jets out of my body and into the fabric of my pants. It splashes around my legs, coating my skin as it pours down. I can barely watch as the tiny dark streak rapidly expands into a huge black stain going half the width of my leg. It blooms and grows around my crotch, meanwhile pee falls from the fabric of my joggers like some tiny yellow waterfall, hitting the carpet with a deafening, constant crash. The carpet beneath me wells up as it's soaked, growing hot and wet around my feet rapidly. Within about ten seconds, the puddle is already the size of pillow, and it's still growing. Notice I said puddle - pee is falling out of me so quickly the carpet's not had the time to soak it in, and so there's a thin layer of liquid sitting on top, splashing as more is poured into it. Again, I catch myself moaning - loudly. I hadn't noticed it first, but I realised that the 'Uhhhh!' was coming from my own mouth, as an entire ocean came out of me somewhere else. As pee continues to just flood down my legs, I slowly become aware of my surroundings once again, including the calls from inside the bathroom. "Soph? Soph? Are you okay?" I hear Tara ask. Quite frankly, I've never felt better than I do right now. The relief hits like a train, and I slump to the ground, soaking my backside in still-hot piss. I lean against the side of the door frame as I give up any last hopes of not completely soaking myself again, instead opting to just let everything flow out of me... My word this feels good. "Soph?" I hear Tara's voice again, as the door swings open and I nearly fall backwards. "Soph, did you - Oh..." "oh...." I repeat, though it's more a quiet vocalization of a mix of relief and shock than it is anything else. "Couldn't hold it?" She says. I let myself fall back as my bladder finishes emptying itself into my pants. "You.....you're not even undressed yet." I mumble, staring up at her. I can see straight up her shorts. She's wearing pink underwear. "And I'm not going to shower, either." She says. She's even turned it off. She steps over my arm, and a muffled 'squish' in the near distance tells me she's stepped on the carpet. "Your socks are wet, by the way." She says. She reaches the dry end of the hallway, before taking off my socks and tossing them onto my lap. "I hate you so much." I moan. The heat is beginning to fade, but the sheer relief is not, and I'm forcing myself to not giggle. "Oh, don't worry Soph. I won't tell anyone about this." She says, in a voice I suspect is meant to sound forgiving. From my warm seat I give her the two-finger salute. She chuckles. "Night Soph." I hear her walk away and her door closes behind her. I let my raised arm splash back down on the carpet, which is already quite chilly. I'll get her back for this. You count my words. OmoJack, For The Peeple, satyr and 4 others 7 Quote Link to comment
Melificentfan 1,215 Posted September 5, 2018 ✨ Legendary Member Share Posted September 5, 2018 What a excellent chapter Rolo now I am wondering how Soph will get her back Quote Link to comment
Kreed 230 Posted September 6, 2018 Share Posted September 6, 2018 (edited) Man, I feel sorry for Sophie and wow, I absolutely hate Tara I hope whatever Soph has in store for her is brutal T^T Edited September 6, 2018 by Ares Didn't convey my point (see edit history) Quote Link to comment
Ghostblade913 221 Posted September 7, 2018 Share Posted September 7, 2018 Your writing style is excellent very nice buildup Quote Link to comment
AliasnameTO 335 Posted September 11, 2018 Share Posted September 11, 2018 On 9/6/2018 at 2:03 PM, Ares said: Man, I feel sorry for Sophie and wow, I absolutely hate Tara I hope whatever Soph has in store for her is brutal T^T Hehe, I get the feeling that Tara, while capable of delectable malice, is not a total monster. You know she gets a thrill out of what's going on beyond sadism. Lovely story though. All the foot focus was a bonus too hehe. I'm ready for another one. Quote Link to comment
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