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female Family Business


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A/N: This is the first part of a longer commission, though I'll be posting the rest of it to AO3 as it will begin to deviate from omorashi at that point. But yeah, it's part of a bigger thing, which is why it ends abruptly, though I hope to have a link to the bigger story eventually, if anyone is interested in continuing it.

 

Emma was never particularly close with her family, despite still living in their home at the age of twenty-two. Sometimes she thinks that they might not have really noticed her presence at all, with how big the manor is, but really, she knows that they don’t notice her and therefore don’t pay any mind to the fact that she isn’t looking to marry and have her own household for the same reason they’ve never had much of a bond with her- business.

Her father and mother were both prominent in the business world and married each other along with merging their respective businesses, likely with no intention of having children, seeing as they were on the older side when she was unexpectedly conceived. She remained an only child, raised mostly by the help in their house, and a year ago, her father finally managed to work himself to death. Her mother picked up where he left off, but her health quickly began to fail, leaving Emma alone now. She doesn’t miss her parents as much as she feels like she should, but then, she’s already had her entire life to miss them, and this doesn’t feel like anything new.

And, really, she isn’t entirely alone, not with the staff still working in the home, and not with her days filled with settling her parents’ business affairs. She has enough inheritance from them the live out the rest of her days in the same wealth she’s always known, and she’s inherited the house on top of that. Without much of a passion for their business, she’s decided not to take on any of that burden, and is now settling the matter of what goes where, and who takes over what. In the meantime, she does have to handle a few of their responsibilities, but only until everything is settled.

She isn’t alone in this feat either, at least, because she has the help of one of their butlers, Alistair, who was enough of a confidante of her parents that he has some idea of how to run things. He really has been like a part of the family over the years, and Emma has always admired him, much more than she should, and now, she is starting to think that her crush on him is not something that she’s ever going to grow out of.

Though a relationship between them is likely impossible, she still fantasizes about it, and has taken to writing over the years to relieve her of her many dreams and daydreams involving the much older man. She has a journal in which she describes all of these things, and has found that she enjoys writing quite a bit, with the idea to potentially pursue a career in it once she is completely free of the family business.

For now, she just writes down all the details of her inappropriate crush, and makes sure that she keeps her journal- a very ordinary looking notebook, since she doesn’t want to advertise it as a diary- typically out of sight. Eventually, she does hope to move on, and use her fantasies as a happy memory to jump start her career in erotica, or something of the sort.

And, though she prefers not to think about it, a relationship between them would be difficult for reasons other than her station, and their age difference, for the same reason that she prefers to keep her fantasies to paper, rather than trying to pursue them with anyone. But she doesn’t want to think about that, not any more than she has to.

~X~

On late nights, it becomes very difficult to concentrate on the work in front of her. Before, these late nights are when she would lose herself in her writing, fantasizing about him while he was off somewhere in the house, doing some sort of work and completely unaware of how the young heiress wanted him, and couldn’t stop thinking about him. But tonight, she has so much paperwork to complete, so many files to sort through, so many loose ends to tie up, that her precious alone time seems as much like a distant dream as any of her fantasies do.

At the very least, this is time that she gets to spend with Alistair, who brings her cup after cup of tea to make sure that she’s able to stay awake long enough to finish up what she’s working on. She has to admit that the caffeine helps, though all the liquid is having another effect on her, one that she could do without when she’s so busy with work.

She could ignore the pressure in her bladder at first, but now, it’s beginning to become impossible to push to the back of her mind. More and more often, Emma finds herself shifting in her seat, trying to make holding it more bearable. Though she could have excused herself for a bathroom break some time ago, she had decided to push herself a little longer, wanting to get as much work done as possible. Even now that it’s starting to get bad, she thinks that she can wait a bit longer, and that she shouldn’t take a break when she has so much momentum going.

However, the fact that she continues to drink tea to keep herself alert means that holding is only going to get harder for her, and she soon finds that she can’t sit still at all. Now, she knows that it’s probably for the best that she takes a break, regardless of her momentum, but something keeps her rooted to her seat, making no move to get up and relieve herself.

It’s because Alistair is watching her, she realizes, and she is embarrassed to excuse herself in the middle of work for something that she feels like should not be such a big deal. With just the two of them here, there would be no disguising what she’s hurrying off for, and so she forces herself to wait it out, until all of her work is done for the night. She sets her teacup aside, promising herself that she will not drink anymore, and just do her best to stay awake without any help from that.

Really, it would be impossible to fall asleep right now anyway, with the strong pulses coming from her bladder. Were she actually trying to sleep, she would have to get up and go to the bathroom before that would be possible. Now, it’s hard to even sit still with how badly she needs to pee, which hinders her focus so much that work takes longer than it would have under normal circumstances.

Emma hopes that Alistair does not notice the change in her demeanor, and fights to keep her desperation as subtle as she can. When she thinks he isn’t paying attention, she grinds against her chair, gritting her teeth and squirming, though this does not keep the urge at bay for long. She is past the point where she can just push it aside, past the point where she can really think of anything other than how badly she needs this, how she really might not make it until the end.

It would be far worse to wet herself at her desk like some kind of child than to ask for a break, and she knows that, but it takes her so long to be able to see asking for a break as possible at all. She knows that it would be worse to wet herself, with Alistair right next to her, but she still hates the idea of bringing attention to her need so much that asking at all feels too difficult. Her heart races and she loses all focus entirely, and she curls her toes in her shoes, she squeezes her thighs tightly together under her desk.

She’s not going to make, she’s going to leak and then she won’t be able to stop it, and then she is going to lose control and humiliate herself, she just knows it. There’s no more time to waste, and shakily, she begins to rise from her desk. All she has to do is excuse herself, and then it will be over, and she can return to work. It will be as simple as that, nothing to worry about.

“Miss?” asks Alistair. “Is something the matter?”

“Nothing at all,” she replies, forcing her voice to remain steady, casual.  “I’ll be right back, so we can finish up.”

But before she can take a single step, she feels his hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her, easing her back down into her chair. “Now, now do you really think this is a good time to stop?” he asks.”You’re so close to done, wouldn’t it be better to just finish up first?”

He would have a good point if it weren’t for the fact that she’s on the verge of wetting herself, and that she really needed this break a very long time ago. “But, I-”

His hand on her shoulder grows a little more firm, and he says, “If you just focus, you’ll find that it really isn’t that hard to finish.” At times, he is a bit more forceful and fatherly towards her than any other servant would be, and, though she appreciates their closeness, right now she would give anything for him to just blindly accept her words.

And she knows that she could argue further, that she could insist that this really isn’t something that can wait, but she can’t bring herself to do it. She can’t bring herself to admit it, and she knows that she’s lost, and that her only hope is to force herself to hold it until the end. It’s already so close that the idea of waiting any longer seems completely impossible, but she clenches as hard as she can, burning on the brink of letting the liquid escape, and she grits her teeth hard, determined.

At this point, she’s sure, with how much she’s shaking, that her desperation is completely obvious to him, but she no longer cares how obvious she makes it, just as long as she does not lose control in front of him. It takes all of her self-control not to jam a hand into her lap, between her legs, but even she is above that in this state. Just a little bit more, and she will be free to go; just a few more things to fill out, and she can make her escape. She’s going to make it, she’s not going to wet herself, everything is going to be just fine-

As she finishes up her work, she feels a hot spurt escape to dampen her panties, and she tenses, cutting it off before more can escape. Not yet, not yet, not when she’s so close! She struggles to stand up, shaking as she does, not saying a word to Alistair, not wanting to call any further attention to her problem, though she’s sure that he must know what’s wrong with her by now. Another spurt escapes her and she groans, stumbling out from behind her desk.

Every step she takes causes her to leak again and again, and she’s moving so painfully slowly, and even though her bathroom is not that far away, it is so far away, and why did she think that she could wait this long? It’s too late, she already knows that it’s too late, and within just a few more steps, there is a leak that does not stop, a spurt that becomes more than a spurt, until it turns into a full torrent, soaking through her panties as she lets out a wail.

“Miss?” asks Alistair in concern, but she’s sure that it doesn’t take him long to figure out what’s happening to her.

It feels like it takes forever for her bladder to completely empty, though she’s sure it’s closer to a minute. Whatever the case, the large amount of tea she’s had results in a large puddle at her feet, the splattering of liquid on tile the only sound in the room, besides her quiet sobs. By the time it’s finally over, her strained bladder still aching even after it’s empty, she has already decided that can’t face him right now, or maybe ever again.

“I...I’m sorry!” she cries, fleeing for her bathroom. She isn’t sure what else to do, only that she wants to get away from him, and that she wants to get out of her wet clothes. After a shower, she’ll do what she can to avoid him and go to bed, but she isn’t sure where to go from there.

Emma has never been so humiliated in her life, made all the worse by the fact that Alistair was the one to witness it.

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