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Showing content with the highest reputation since 07/13/2010 in Images

  1. Holding Contest

    From the album: Dimwitrolo's Misc Work

    Looks like we have a winner
    56 points
  2. Shizuku - Wet Dreams

    Another amazing rendition of Shizuku by @raikori! I think we may need to get some mattress protectors.

    © Art by HitsujiOmo, Shizuku by OmoOrg

    55 points
  3. Request 013

    From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    What better way for three roommates to spend their first night in their new apartment than by having a good, old-fashioned holding contest? $100 for whoever holds it the longest! Of course after insisting that she'd wipe the floor with them, Shelley was made to drink an extra bottle... or two. She figured she was a bit heavier than her friends, so surely she'd have a bigger bladder... right? Well, now that it feels like a boiling watermelon is teetering on the other side of her pee-hole, she's not so sure. Too bad her friends won't just shut up and let her think about anything else! This is the request I did for @Lapiiss!
    54 points
  4. Shizuku!

    From the album: Ashi's Omorashi Art

    Full version of the new site banner!

    © Omorashi.org

    45 points
  5. Cinema

    From the album: Dimwitrolo's Misc Work

    Couldn't hold it through the whole movie?
    41 points
  6. Shizuku enjoying a nice, warm, relaxing day by the pool! This is an idea I've had floating around in my head for a while and was finally able to commission it from our very own @GigaQ! I'm extremely happy with how this one turned out! Something about girls casually wearing nothing but a pair of swim trunks really appeals to me
    36 points
  7. Request 027

    From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    Good God, this one took longer than I expected! Like, over 10 hours! 😅 Anyway, here is the request I did for @bibibibi! --- Anyway, here's some obligatory self-advertising: I am still taking commissions! If you are interested in having me draw something for you, you can check out my thread here!
    33 points
  8. From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    The university administration decided, in honor of their team 'The Pisces', that they would have their cheerleaders hold a drinking contest before their upcoming game. It's easy to see how they could have missed an important biological ramification of such a plan... But even so, there's no reason they won't be able to go before the game... Right? Less of a picture and more of a page. I hope you guys can tolerate the lack of color!
    27 points
  9. From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    What do you get when two girls really need to pee, but are both incredibly pee-shy? A war of attrition!~ Technically, this does count as a holding contest, right? XD
    25 points
  10. From the album: Here4theFun's Digital Art

    A commision I did for Mr. Musashi. Since its supposed to be me, I thought I would share here.
    25 points
  11. Page 30

    From the album: Off-Limits!

    And, out of nowhere, here's the next page! 😅
    25 points
  12. Page 28

    From the album: Off-Limits!

    The long-awaited continuation of Dakota's torment is finally here! (I'm not going to say anything about future plans, because every time I say something, it jinxes it!)
    25 points
  13. Shizuku by Mirikun

    A wonderful drawing of Shizuku done by Mirikun! https://twitter.com/Mirihtmr https://www.patreon.com/miricomics/posts
    24 points
  14. Request 020

    From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    Here's the request I did for @Alex Oxford! How about another intentional hold? This one was really fun to do, and took a long time.

    © Alex Oxford (Concept)

    24 points
  15. Request 026

    From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    Here's the request I did for @S19YellowPengu! I'm not taking any more requests, but it you're interested in having me draw something for you, please consider taking a look at my commission thread! ~~ Story Time!~~ A year-long membership for the rapids center does not come cheap. And with all of the new applicants to the university kayaking club, a serious infusion of cash was needed to get the team in the water. As president of the club, however, Florence defaulted to the position of cashier when no one else volunteered to help. Seriously, guys? Well, at least it would mean an entire day without classes. Fresh-squeezed lemonade was the product of choice for the fund raiser. The other club members did chip in to buy a plastic hand-juicer, an entire crate of lemons, a sack of sugar, and a sack of artificial sweetener. Florence would be responsible for preparing each batch of lemonade (both standard, and "sugar-free" varieties) in addition to selling it and handing out pamphlets. Needless to say, she was going to be a busy girl! -- The morning of the sale, Florence pulled herself out of bed early so she could enjoy a fresh mug of tea while finishing an assignment for her Biology class: a small portion of questions dealing with cell lysis. She'd make sure to have fun today, even if it meant juicing the entire crate of lemons. She brushed her teeth, showered, and headed out to a hot summer day wearing a breathable outfit to help her stay cool. To her surprise, a couple of her club members had already established the stand out in the campus commons. And they'd done the hardest part of hauling out the massive stack of water jugs! Only one could fit on the table at a time with the stacks of plastic cups, but at least people would see that their lemonade was indeed made from scratch. After setting up the beach umbrella and unfolding the lawn chair that would be her seat for the entire day, Florence turned to the two guys from the club who'd come to help her only to find that they'd disappeared. She couldn't blame them, though she was a little annoyed. And as she took her station, she noticed that she probably should have peed before coming to the stand. She didn't have to go bad or anything... but there was a twinge like the first cold drops of rain on pavement. Eh... she could hold it. No point in leaving now, right? Besides, she figured she'd just go in an hour or two. Easy. In fact, peeing was the furthest thing from her mind as she tendered the first sales of the day. And those "first" sales soon became an unending line of people that stretched all the way back to the dining hall. Who knew fresh-squeezed lemonade would be such a hit? Florence could hardly believe that she'd raised $100 before noon, especially considering that each cup was a paltry 50 cents! Three 5-gallon jugs sat empty beneath the table and another was well on its way. Unfortunately, the sun was making this a bit of an ordeal. The umbrella gave her some much-needed shade, but the heat drove her to keep refilling her own cup. At this point, she was drinking just to keep cool... -- Around noon, a "sponsoring" instructor arrived with a long cart of new water jugs. These were much needed as Florence had nearly depleted the others. And there were more squished lemon-halves in the provided trash bin than any reasonable person would ever expect to see. And Florence wasted no time in asking him to tend the table for just a few minutes. Her "I could pee" had become an "I am about to fucking explode!" But she didn't want to verbally explain this to the instructor in front of everyone, so he uselessly brushed her off to attend some meeting with a congratulatory pat on the shoulder. Oh well. Screw him, right? She could just leave the table for a few minutes and be right back... And as she stood to do so, and explained this to her next customer, she realized that she couldn't just leave all of the club's earnings sitting at the table in an unguarded box. That and there was a standard cash-drawer with at least $200 in assorted change... Apparently no one had even thought about the fact that she was going to need a pee break! Another hour of torture (and a herculean effort on her part) ended with Florence twisted into a urine-retaining pretzel while still managing to somehow prepare and serve the never-ending stream of students. Her mind continually returned to the uncomfortable images of cells rupturing due to excess water in her homework that morning. "Excretion is an essential, but underappreciated process in biology... The production of urine in the kidneys serves as one of the body's primary methods of preventing cell death via lysis." "Fuck it!~" florence thought after the first splash of hot piss jetted into her panties. "I-I'm sorry, can you watch the stand for me, please?! I will be right back!" she begged of the two next girls in line. She didn't wait to hear their excuse and dashed toward the nearest building. But she wasn't going to make it. And she knew it. So she ran to the corner of the building and squatted between it and the next. She'd barely managed to pull her skirt back before she was full-force gushing into her panties and moaning in relief. The feeling of emptying her over-full bladder was indescribable.
    24 points
  16. Request 017

    From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    Uh oh. It turns out that fresh seafood doesn't really exist in the mountains! Of course, because the rustic resort went all-out on maintaining its traditional, American mountain-living image (or because they just wanted to save a few bucks), they installed only one, single outhouse to service all of its guests. That's really bad news for these two women. Having come up into the range from a state over to attend a meeting about the retreat's quarterly performance, this business woman made the mistake of assuming her company actually cares about its guests bodily needs. A large ice tea for the ride up, several bottles of water during the property tour, and not even a single bathroom-break later, she finally had the opportunity to sneak off to that lonely outhouse... and found it occupied. The bus is leaving soon. Looks like its going to be a fun, bumpy ride back to HQ... Maybe the winner of the lemonade-drinking contest held earlier will have more luck? The person in the outhouse can't be sick forever, right? But, with a half-gallon of pink lemonade running straight through her system, this has become a true battle of attrition... Her kidneys are on overdrive, and her bladder is full. Really full. And each passing second is just another temptation for her to just let go, and experience the unbelievably sweet relief of peeing her pants. But she's 22 years old, and every fiber of her will forbids such embarrassment. She can hold it. This is the request I did for @randomrobot007!
    24 points
  17. From the album: Here4theFun's Digital Art

    Eimi wanted to give you a surprise, but she didn't know you would take an extra day on your work trip. So she held for two days straight! Still, although she is way past her limit she can't help but want to fuck you before she even thinks about letting a drop out! Musashi Commed this one and developed the plot! ❤️
    23 points
  18. Proxy

    From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    Here, we get to see the consequences of Thisbe's lapse of judgement upon returning home from the parkway in this year's Omovember #10. Tsk. Tsk. She should have remembered the rules... You always need permission to pee, even if the hold ends up way longer because of traffic! XD And if she thinks this is bad, imagine the punishment her mistress will come up with if she fails to act properly "relieved" despite not having let out a drop! Or worse, if she leaks! Considering that, this is merciful! :]
    22 points
  19. From the album: Here4theFun's Digital Art

    Thanks for the character Crim and thanks for the inspo Noob. Lucy has been captured with her lasso and is getting filled up with a lot of liquid via catheter, can her poor bladder withstand it?
    22 points
  20. Late for Work

    From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    It's not hard to see why her manager is pissed, considering she was twenty minutes late and only half in dress-code. If she's seen anywhere BUT the register, she's going to be fired. "Anywhere" apparently includes the restroom, which is bad news for her unbelievably full bladder... Now she's bouncing and counting every second of the last six hours of her shift. I'm back! I had a pretty tough latter-half of November. Here's to hoping I can get some more drawings done and out for you guys! Due to popular demand, I think I'll be continuing Fish4Nitefield after this! (Sorry about the crappy paint-job... I was getting anxious to get another upload in before the end of the month!)
    22 points
  21. Full

    From the album: Traditional art

    A little NSFW doodle. I always loved this concept of being full to the brim!
    22 points
  22. From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    She looks ready to kiss you as her beseeching expression melts into elation upon hearing your response! But rather than her head leaning-in after handing you your package, her hands immediately shoot to the buckle of her belt as she dances madly in place and issues a blizzard of "thank you"s. Down the hall. Second door on the right. Unable to properly run, she mixes a skip and a stumble into some kind of waddle while she makes her way toward the promise of sweet relief. She passes the hall tree before her belt finally relents. Next comes the button. In fact, she's already tugging her black jeans down while still out in the hallway. And you could even see a sliver of her pink panties and a fair bit of her bare ass as she crosses the threshold into the bathroom. "No! No! No!" she says to herself. She hasn't bothered to close the door; hot jets of urine are already leaving her body and crashing to the floor. After a few squeaks from her shoes, there is a roaring thunder --- a heavy stream of piss is tearing into the water in the toilet bowl. There is no decrease to the intensity of her deluge even after she finally notices you standing at the door...
    21 points
  23. Couldn't hold it

    From the album: Dimwitrolo's Misc Work

    She tried her best
    21 points
  24. From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    It's Ladies' Night at the bar, and you know what that means! Two girls go head-to-head in an on-stage holding contest for the entertainment of all the other women in attendance! They split a gallon of peach tea, suck their halves down, strip off at least their bottoms, and perform everyone's favorite dance until we get to see all that peach tea again! The winner takes not only the porcelain throne (provided she can make it past all the hammered patrons who are having so much fun watching her squirm) , but also the adoration of her peers! ...And the following week of free drinks at the bar might have something to do with it, too. This week's GAL-lon Chug-a-thon pits a bold biker "bitch" (hey, her words, not mine!) against a blonde bikini babe in this traditional bladder-busting battle. Who will take home the gold by holding in her own liquid gold the longest? Our blonde's got a strong resume of poolside bikini-model shoots where the sun is hot, the girls are hotter, and heavy hydration is a must! Pee breaks? In that nasty off-set porta-potty? No thank you! All the ladies may be outside enjoying the pool, but her pee stays inside until she's on a real toilet! And our biker ain't no slacker either! With literal hundreds of miles in the summer heat under her belt --- all of them decked out in heavy gear (gotta stay safe, you know) --- the girl knows how to get her eight-glasses-a-day... And let's just say she blows past that milestone as fast as she puts asphalt behind her! The catch? Her ass is glued to the seat of her bumpy bobber until she gets to where she's going --- and all that pee gets a free tour of states!
    21 points
  25. ALWAYS Attended

    From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    The Solitary Confinement tier on Patreon voted for a desperate bathroom attendant in last month's poll! I had a ton of fun working on it, and also figured it could use a little additional context, so I wrote a story for it as well! 😁 -- Story Time! -- Her breathing is shallow, carefully calculated, and yet still wavering. Every muscle in her body is either tense or shivering. Sweat glazes her forehead. Bridgette’s temples pound with a hastened heartbeat, yet she feels faint. The horrified --- or is it agonized? --- grimace on her face compromises any degree of composure inherent to the professionalism of her uniform. ~ The Erebus Hotel, Casino, and Lounge was a gargantuan and imposing establishment better likened to an entire campus than a single building. But, indeed, it technically comprised a single, massive, crescent-shaped complex skinned in gleaming white marble that, by night, was lit from below by many humming spotlights. At its feet was a wide, circular pond designed to reflect its majesty. Sculptures of Greek gods, goddesses, and heroes peeked out of the hundreds of ornate niches that lined the opaquely-tinted windows. The interior, a thematic contrast to the facade, bore darker colors --- blacks, golds, silvers --- in all its hallways. Its casino (actually, casinos) were, of course, far more colorful, but hid behind select, soundproof doors. As the image of obscene wealth, the Erebus featured such absurdities as dedicated ice-sculptors hired to provide elaborate and unique carvings for each of its many dining halls. Its suites resembled millionaire penthouses more-so than individual hotel rooms, as each was guaranteed to have a loft that overlooked an ornate sitting area. The reception area housed two glass elevators for clients, Erebus management, and bag-haulers only (the rest of the staff was instead required to quietly disappear into a partially-concealed, single elevator near the back of the building). Most relevant for Bridgette was the observation that every last inch of the interior was spotless. The cleaning and maintenance staff resembled an army, and most even had rooms within the massive subterranean living-quarters. In fact, every staff member was required to complete a year of training while living on-site. Unsurprisingly, this was not much of a burden considering the generous accommodations provided in the subterranean complex. Considering the position she had been hired for, though, the requirement to remain on-campus for an entire year seemed utterly ludicrous. But upon Bridgette’s hiring, she was assured that it would be necessary. She had quickly learned what that meant. Bridgette was responsible for the 19th Female Restroom on Floor 3 of the East Third. She was to be the dedicated bathroom attendant for the day shift, and would only be relieved for a single 30-minute meal or upon the arrival of the night shift's attendant. At all other times, she was required to remain present and available for any cleaning duty or client need that might arise. In contrast to the strictness of her schedule and the elaborate code of professional etiquette, the cleaning was no more difficult than it would have been at any other public restroom. In fact, it might have been easier, since the clients served by the Erebus did not usually leave messes. And until last week — nearly two years after her being hired — Bridgette even managed to be a model employee. Despite the intimidation of interacting with insanely rich and powerful women, she maintained an unwavering dedication to the persona required of her by the Erebus code of etiquette. In a way, she felt that the code kept her “safe” from being the subject of their ire. Last week, however, she received the news in an email --- an update to the professional code of etiquette. This was nothing out-of-the-ordinary, though usually lowly bathroom attendants didn't find anything that would apply to them. This time however, a new, applicable rule did come through. "To All Erebus Staff: Topside restrooms are now only for use by clients. Employees must instead use the staff toilets located in their quarters or other staff areas and are only permitted to do so while on their meal break." For Bridgette, this would be a problem. Her restroom was the 19th --- far from the staff elevator. It was physically impossible for her to make it all the way to her room and back within her allotted break... This was due to the staff elevator — it was always in use by other staff members. The fact that there was only one of them might have been the only deficiency in the building’s design. During the first few days, she tried to comply. But her shift was 10 hours long. Her meal break was only five hours in, and even by then she was desperate to relieve herself. She inevitably failed and broke the rule. Her restroom served the third floor casino and was thus usually busy; but even in agony, she waited for the restroom to be empty before darting into a stall to fiercely urinate. Surely her manager would understand… Three days ago, Bridgette had been called into her manager’s office. She could tell by her boss’ interlaced fingers and unblinking glare that the circumstances of this meeting would not be good. While confused about how management could have known what she was doing, she had prepared something of a defense for herself… At least, so she thought — until they leveled an entirely unrelated and confusing charge at her feet: a client had complained that their presence at the Erebus had been (embarrassingly) disclosed. This was supposedly done by one of the bathroom attendants. And Bridgette fit the description of the culprit. It was clear in the moments that followed that denial would not be a sound strategy. She knew that she was not the one responsible, but her testimony mattered a lot less than the client’s. She would take the fall for this, and the question was a matter of how far. She’d have lost her job that night had it not been for a single gesture of “mercy” from her boss: For the next six months, her boss or someone else would stop by her restroom randomly during her shift numerous times per day to ensure that she was upholding the code of ethics. This would be a problem. ~ These memories race through Bridgette’s panicked mind as she stands at her station — a table in the front corner of the 19th Ladies’ room on the third floor of the Erebus Hotel, Casino, and Lounge. She is bent forward at the hips, but it isn’t helping her situation. Her quivering hands hover over her thighs dangerously close to where she so badly wants to cram them. But doing such is disallowed by the code of ethics. The skirt of her uniform feels tighter than it ever has, and the string of her apron puts a ring of torturous pressure around her abdomen. Bridgette needs to pee extremely badly. Her bladder is beyond full — such that her last attempt to straighten her back had forced a horrifically tempting dribble of urine out of her straining body and into the sweat and piss-quenched gusset of her panties. The dainty cotton can retain nothing more. Her legs twist together, and her feet shift over each other as she seeks any position that will prevent further leaks. All around her are the occupied stalls of the restroom she is charged with maintaining. Relaxed drinking and long hours of gambling lead an unending stream of clients to seek out this room. And, to Bridgette’s ears, it sounds as if every single woman is releasing an ocean of hot relief. Each woman is rich enough to buy her entire childhood neighborhood as if it is a gumball, and they expect Bridgette to conduct herself accordingly. As such, sympathy is a rarity. The older ladies side-eye her in displeasure when they leave. The younger women giggle among each other about Bridgette’s misery as they pass. And no more than seconds later, more women enter to replace them. Bridgette doesn’t really notice. Her attention is fixed squarely between her legs. Her heart thuds with cold blood at merciless reality: it’ll be another three hours before the end of her shift.
    21 points
  26. 21 points
  27. Hand-Stand

    From the album: Dimwitrolo's Misc Work

    "I told you I could keep a handstand going! I've got great balance! You can mop up, I've gotta go wash my hair."
    21 points
  28. Another commission I got from @raikori of Shizuku during a bit too intensive of a gaming session!
    21 points
  29. 21 points
  30. From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    "Pleaaaaaaaase!" Harlyn begged her sister from the backseat of their beat-up sedan. "No!" Lexie shot back. "Just take the exit! Please, please, please, please!" She brought her boots up onto the seat as she pulled her knees to her chest. "You should have peed before we left!" "No, please, you don't understand --- I'm literally about to pee myself! I'll do anything!" Harlyn whined in response with tears rolling down her cheeks. Her hands squeezed at her womanhood as every bump and shudder jostled the rusted-out suspension. The problem was simple: Lexie was pissed --- downright, bone-chewing livid. It had been a three hour drive to get to the concert and they had been running late. Why? Because Harlyn had gotten caught up in some stupid game that made them run late. Lexie had been waiting all year for the band to finally appear at least within their state --- and considering said band was foreign, she was lucky that they had chosen to tour the states at all. The tickets weren't cheap either... Harlyn attempted to explain herself on their way there: she thought she was forty-five minutes early, while --- in fact --- she was fifteen minutes late. Stupid math. That explanation had at least kept her sister quiet and stewing for the drive. They'd make it --- everything would be fine. And they did make it before the band started. This was strange, because they were at least a half-hour late. They had to get gas, and care-free Harlyn had disappeared to fetch them some sodas adding another fifteen to the trip. See, maybe Lexie was mad about being late... But she was likely actually upset about how the show had been cancelled due to the incoming storm. (Oh how open-ceiling venues and fallible weather-reporting never mix...) What an absolutely "shit-tastic" day it had been... And while an explosive Lexie went to get a refund for the tickets, Harlyn tried to cheer her up with some mega-sized slushies. She didn't want hers... go figure. So, now that it was four hours, a soda, and two mega-sized slushies later, Harlyn was in a predicament. Lexie must have peed after getting her refund... Harlyn, on the other hand, hadn't peed since before the game that made them late in the first place; she didn't want to make them even later, after all! And oh sweet tortoise on a unicycle, Harlyn needed to pee. This was the kind of need-to-pee that didn't fuck around. Hot beads of sweat rolled down her forehead and dripped from her bangs onto her glasses. Her body quivered as she strained against the violent call of nature. She could count every pebble their shitty car hit --- even the tiniest of debris caused her seconds of burning anguish. She held on like she was dangling from a skyscraper. "Please..." Harlyn squeaked from behind clenched teeth. Lexie peered at her for a moment from the side of her eye. Past Harlyn's window, the last rest stop for forty miles slid past and disappeared into the garbled darkness of the storm.
    20 points
  31. From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    Ack, later than I wanted to post it, but it's still today! XD Prompt: "She really has to pee, but she... can't get the ropes undone after being tied up!" Alexis is in a bit of trouble here! The game is simple, drink a bunch and don't pee all day. Then Courtney gets to tie her up once she's finally back in their dorm. Today is unusual in that Courtney's being generous: Alexis can dash off to the ladies' room at any time!... Provided she can get those ropes undone. If not, well, she knows the rules. Not even a dribble nor solitary drop 'til her lover gets bored! And that'd also be where Courtney's generosity ends: Alexis is tied so her hands are bound to her knees, her legs are forced apart by the ropes at her feat, and perhaps worst of all --- so that she's all rolled up with no room to spare! As usual, the nude and textless versions are available on my Patreon! And Alexis is, um, in a kind-of... 💕compromising 💕... position here. With the clothes go the ropes, too. 😋
    20 points
  32. Turbulence

    From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    I ended up doing two images for my Solitary-tier Patreon poll! Here's the first! A girl is desperate to unleash what feels like a gallon of hot urine into an airplane toilet. But just as she gets her pants down, there's a knock at the door. It's the flight attendant. There's turbulence... and this cheap company's insurance doesn't cover passenger injury during turbulence, no matter how badly they've got to pee. She has to go back to her seat with a dangerously full bladder after releasing only a tiny dribble --- and none of that ended up in the toilet, mind you!
    20 points
  33. House Rule

    From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    Here we have some familiar faces playing a very desperate session of a tabletop RPG! DM Sandy, has set a particular house rule to prevent anyone from messing with the flow of her campaign, and it is being seriously enforced tonight, as this marks the party's battle with the "Big Bad" Witch Queen! The rule is: no one can leave the room until the session ends! So with the sun long-since set and many two-liter bottles drained, our heroines might just trade the fate of the kingdom for a fiercely-needed pee-break!
    20 points
  34. From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    Prompt: "She really needs to pee, but she... has (had) to wait longer than she thought after starting her hold intentionally!" Thisbe and her girlfriend prepare for a night of fun that goes on just a bit too long! XD As usual, the nude and textless versions are available on my Patreon!
    20 points
  35. Page 01

    From the album: Off-Limits!

    20 points
  36. From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    Harlyn takes her movies very seriously! The extended-director's cut for her favorite film is making an extremely limited showing in a theater nearby (only a few cities away). That's the four hour --- real hyper-fan --- version, not the weak HD-DVD "collector's edition" release, where the scenes are relegated to bonus-features! And she won't even speak of the "desiccated husk" of a Blu-Ray release that dropped a couple years ago... A measly, enhanced re-release of the original theater cut?! Insulting. This showing is special, because the deal gets sweeter --- at this extremely limited showing, two additional scenes have been incorporated that have never been publicly released... until now. Harlyn knew the rumors of these scenes and had dreamed of witnessing them, even in some horribly-garbled bootleg capacity, for years! People were saying they "saw" them on some now offline website, or had "evidence" of their existence that invariably failed to materialized... There definitely was reason to be suspicious of the potentially missing content from some leaked production photos, but no one expected that the scenes would ever surface. Nevermind all these years later. Nevermind edited into the actual movie! Needless to say, Harlyn isn't going to miss a second of this. She has absolutely no idea when the scenes could come up --- they were complete mysteries before today, after all! If she could watch the movie without blinking, she would! Unfortunately, her chosen size of diet soda --- meant to last the full runtime --- didn't last the full runtime. With an hour-and-a-half to go, her cup is empty. And her bladder is very, very, very full.
    20 points
  37. From the album: Dimwitrolo's Misc Work

    What could be more relaxing than a nice warm soak in the tub?
    20 points
  38. From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    The second of two images I did for the Solitary poll last moth! Oh she wishes she could just sit down and unleash the Mediterranean sea into one of those public toilets --- but therein lies the problem: they're public! And Neptune has cursed her with an insurmountable case of pee-shyness! She'd rather do a familiar tap-dance while all the other women around her enjoy the bliss of emptying their own bladders.
    20 points
  39. From the album: Dimwitrolo's Misc Work

    Someone call the janitor
    20 points
  40. Lillie

    From the album: Dimwitrolo's Misc Work

    Pokemon's Lillie. I imagine Lillie as the kind of girl who has a lot of accidents - This just endears me more to her though!
    20 points
  41. She Gave Up

    From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    And this one comes with a story! ~ She had a problem. A big problem. She rocked wildly in her chair with both of her hands buried between her tightly-clenched thighs. Every motion she made caused the plastic seat to squeak against the metal frame, and this had clearly broadcast her predicament to all of her classmates. She'd given up on attempting to listen to the lecture --- instead, her attention was solely fixed upon an increasingly arduous task: not peeing. Were she back at Nitefield, she could have resolved this entire situation with ease --- provided the ladies’ rooms were functional at the time. She'd have just had to leave the class for a moment. Permission wasn't necessary; college-age adults were allowed to come and go as they pleased, though their grades might reflect this depending on the instructor. And, indeed, here was no different. The nearest bathroom, in fact, was right across the hall --- something she was relentlessly reminded of by the occasional flushing of a toilet. Yet she remained seated. At some point, the instructor had started his lesson. She hadn't been paying enough attention to know when. But his start was a good sign. At least time was passing --- albeit very slowly. This reassurance did very little to soothe her agony, though. The guys around her shot glances her way --- sometimes with grins. They were very aware of her problem. And to them, it was a very self-inflicted one. "Quit being so dramatic about this. Quit torturing yourself," she could almost hear them say. Oh how tempting was the thought of finally relenting... But she would continue to hold her water. No matter how badly she needed to relieve herself. She crossed one thigh over the other, though it did nothing to ease her suffering. Nitefield had, in its boundless wisdom, made a very small error. Her major required her to spend two semesters outside of the states as an exchange student. She was happy to do this --- this was an academic excuse to explore some other country, and this aligned precisely with her interest in travel. All was good --- except for that very tiny mistake on the part of her "home" university... Nitefield had sent her to an all male school. And she hadn't even known about it until the faculty here were apologizing profusely upon her arrival. For two whole semesters, she would be surrounded by men. Ok. That would be... interesting. And at least she got a private dorm room and her own bathroom for the trouble. Sure, it might be a bit awkward, but she'd survive. Sweat rolled down her forehead and traced her cheek on its way to her chin. Tears rolled from her eyes. At least that little bit of water would not be crammed into the over-filled pressure-vessel in her lower abdomen. Fuck, did she need to pee. She usually didn't feel this way until the end of the day. But now, she still had two more classes to suffer through before she was free. Tough luck, she supposed... she still wasn't going to use the bathroom. The bathroom. Another flush. It was like cold water pouring down her spine. Hold it. The bathroom was her problem. Seeing that this was an all male school, none of the bathrooms were labeled according to sex. All of the bathrooms were freely available to all of the men --- and one woman, in this odd case... And her classmates had told her as much on numerous occasions: she could use any of the bathrooms, they didn't care... But she did. And the reality was that every single bathroom was functionally a men's room. No girls allowed — except within the one she'd been allowed to use privately next to her dorm. It was her one haven of privacy. And it was there that she could pee. No guy would be there to watch. It got hot between her legs for a moment. She couldn't tell if there had been a leak, and she was too dependent upon her balled-up position to check. Maybe it had been a trick of her mind. Or some weird sensation borne of her insidious desperation. Class was nearly over, and this was very clearly the worst she'd ever needed to pee. She'd gotten so good at holding it over the semester. Not even once had she "caved" and used one of the men's rooms. There were “close calls” — times where she could have sworn that a moment longer would have had her dribbling on the floor. And the guys all around her would mockingly torment her in some misguided attempt to convince her to “suck it up” and just go to the bathroom. Her knuckles whitened as she tugged at the beltline of her shorts. Room. She needed room. Room for her bladder to expand. As the instructor began the conclusion of his lesson, her feet tapped wildly on the floor, and she unbuttoned her shorts. Already. She normally hesitated to pop the button even at the end of the day — and she’d only resorted to it a couple times previously. Now staring down two more unrelenting classes, she was downright terrified that she’d already resorted to this incredibly desperate maneuver. Standing from her seat was indescribably torturous. Seated, she was in agony. Standing, she was in hell. Her bladder greedily devoured what little space she had provided it by undoing her shorts’ button. Yet unsatisfied, it rewarded her with another flash of heat between her legs. And this time, she was certain she had leaked. Not a lot… She would not allow it. But some. It had been entirely involuntary — accompanying some muscular reflex, it just trickled out. Her back remained arched and bent-forward at the hips as she delicately waddled from the classroom. Two more classes. Two long hours at the barest minimum. And she’d already begun to leak. Another flush roared out of the bathroom invitingly. So what if a few guys saw her? She could imagine it… Pushing open the door, ignoring all the dudes, planting herself on one of the toilets, and draining her misery in a thick golden cascade against porcelain. A heavy, hissing jet of urine that could last for over a minute… Ecstasy. Fantasy. She settled gingerly into her seat in the next class. Early as always. Her hands flew to her crotch. At this point, attending class was scarcely more than a formality — there was no question as to where her attention was focused. But no amount of fierceness behind her dire need to urinate would cause her to skip class attendance; she could hold it, after all. Dashing to her far-off toilet and walking in late — all in the name of comfort — was anathema to her very being. Hold it. Hold it. HOLD it. Again, the squeaking of her rocking and the greedy untying and re-tying of her legs into tight knots drew the eyes of all the men around her and — she could have sworn — even an eye-roll from the instructor. So be it. Let them all see how the one girl in the entire college could be the most dedicated person there!... At least, that was the delusion she could use to distract herself from recognizing the obvious “show” she was putting on for her classmates. It didn’t help that one of the hottest ones, in her mind, was seated to her left and getting an eyeful. Any of those social anxieties melted away as a particularly gruesome wave crashed against her strained exit. She held her breath, her face twisted in agony, and she squeezed her crotch hard between rock-solid thighs. A drop of sweat traced the valley of her spine down to the elastic band of her panties as she remained locked in her position. Her eyes blurred behind a veil of fresh tears. A wave with twice the fury of the first followed soon after. Forty-five minutes remained of this class. She clenched everything, from her teeth to muscles she didn’t know the name of. Her bladder commanded her to pee. And in a half-second of exhaustion, her body acquiesced — while her brain exploded with protests. HOLD it. A beam of water that felt like molten, liquid metal roared against the gusset of her panties for the entire duration. She felt it in her fingers — Vibration. Heat. Wetness. The latter she did not feel until after the beam had ceased… She dared not to imagine that this was her limit. No. With another entire class to follow this one, it couldn’t be. There must have been something she had allowed with that last leak; any other explanation would not allow her to persist. She didn’t need to pee. She wanted to pee. And she’d allowed her willpower to fail in the face of the severity of that want. That was all. The desire to deflate the watermelon in her abdomen was simply greater today… There was a very obvious reason for this: unlike all of the days before, she did not relieve herself after lunch. Yes, she might have “tempted fate” with a tall can of tea… But usually, she’d be able to contain it as well as another whole water bottle until the end of the day — albeit with extreme discomfort. And the two bottles of water she had finished during her first two classes usually made for an incredibly satisfying pee. Today, however, she’d been completely denied that satisfying pee. In fact, she had crushed her lunch’s can of tea and tossed it into the trash bag hanging off of the cleaning cart that blocked her bathroom’s door. The custodian inside was scrubbing away at the only toilet she could use. He must have heard the sound, because he had waved to her — entirely unaware of the hell he had consigned her to. Two bottles of water. One tall can of tea. At least two trips to the water fountain. All said and done, it couldn’t have been much over a couple of liters. Packed into one girl’s bladder for several hours, though, it might as well have been an ocean. Twenty-five more minutes of this class. The guys had returned their attention to the instructor as she continued the vicious, seated dance with which she hoped to woo Fate into giving her a more desirable outcome. Fate rejected her advances with another searing leak. Fifteen more minutes. The crotch of her pants was wet. It’d have been visible had the hands jammed between her thighs not covered up the failures of her endurance. Don’t pee, don’t pee, don’t pee, don’t pee… T-ten minutes. Nine. Squirt — for a full second. Eight. Seven. Dribble — for a second and a half. She could feel the dampness spreading under her butt. She was actively crying now — and the guys around her had taken notice. Six… It was… impossible. She hadn’t let any of it out. The piss had simply been forced out by the laws of physics. Her bladder, agonizingly stretched to its absolute maximum capacity — could contain nothing more. It felt as if every minute or two, her kidneys would send another sprinkle of fresh urine down to her tortured bladder — and the new would simply push out the old. Five more minutes. Her resolve was broken; after this class, she’d need to go back to her dorm room. She’d hang her purse behind her back to hopefully cover up the wet patch spreading from her crotch to the seat of her pants. Her hands would obscure the front. Four more minutes. Another half-second vibration of pee hissed heavily against the wet fabric of her panties and shorts. Three… Two… The instructor looked at his watch after answering a question from one of the other students. One… She was the first out of the room. She was sure that she’d left a tiny puddle on her chair, but that humiliation meant nothing in the face of instinct: she needed to pee. She needed to pee right now. In fact, she needed to pee a while ago — now, she was slowly peeing her pants. There was no time to make it back to her bathroom. She had to go here, or she’d be using her pants and the floor. She stepped into the bathroom at the end of the hall and ignored the three guys who were already inside. She’d already tugged her shorts and panties down by the time she was halfway across the room — her target was the last toilet at the end. The “stalls” in this hellscape didn’t have doors. Rather, they were separated by slim, doorless dividers. She threw herself onto that last toilet and her ass hadn’t even reached the seat before a roaring stream of piss exploded from between her legs. She buried her face in her damp hands and sobbed as the hot piss that had tormented her for hours thundered against the porcelain. She peed and peed, but did not even begin to feel the relief for the longest time. The guys had surrounded her, clearly drawn by the sound of the woman-turned-firehose. She did not hear what they said — perhaps it had been some kind of teasing. She simply continued to cry into her hands. Yes, a portion of these tears were dedicated to her all-consuming mortification; her still full-force gush had by now left her observers in silence. But, truthfully, she was crying mostly because of how good it felt.
    19 points
  42. From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    "She's peeing herself because she... is stuck in Thanksgiving traffic!" Poor Turkey Girl Tara isn't even traveling for Thanksgiving; this is just her trip back home after work! She held it for as long as she could --- and she couldn't even pee before leaving! Maybe she could have made it, but in the end, the Turkeyday traffic sealed her fate! As usual, the nude and textless versions are available on my Patreon!
    19 points
  43. Girl peeing pants

    Dont no artist comment who it is if u know
    19 points
  44. Having living companions is nice, but three other people all sharing the same bathroom means it gets tied up a lot. And it really sucks that Kobayashi, being the only human, is the worst at holding.

    © Onsen Mikan

    19 points
  45. Page 38

    From the album: Off-Limits!

    I upload these early for my patrons, if you are interested!
    19 points
  46. Live-STREAM!

    From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    This month, I did both of the winning ideas for my Solitary poll on Patreon --- and a continuation of last-month's (Don't) Flood the Internet! was one of those ideas! Anyway, le story! - The difficulty of the challenge she'd accepted went far beyond what she had expected --- to stream three hours of herself brimming with piss. And her chat did not act mercifully. Donation after donation, she was making a killing... but the challenges they gave her in exchange were equally murderous. Thirty jumping-jacks at the hour mark was a kindness in comparison with what followed shortly thereafter. Wearing a belt around her midsection a notch too tight for fifteen minutes... Doing ten sit-ups... Being disallowed to cross her legs or touch herself for the last half hour... And now this: rub three ice-cubes on her belly until each had melted. The first melted fairly quickly, but the moment it kissed her skin, it felt like lightning. The second took longer, as her stomach was still cold from the first. She traced circles with it, hoping the movement would dull it down faster. But the undulating pressure of ice against her midsection caused her legs to kick and twist. Why was this so hard?! As dribbles of water from the melted ice rolled off onto her bed, they drew streaks of horrific cold with them. She took a moment before the last ice-cube to squeeze herself and wriggle. The chat loved it. Mostly, however, she wanted to warm her stomach back up so the last one would melt faster. She needed it to, as the second had nearly made her lose control when it became so small that she lost her grip on it. She wasn't ready. But there wasn't a way to be ready in her current state. But the chat kept reminding her --- it was time for that last ice-cube. She took the last ice-cube in her hand, laid onto her back and spread her legs a bit so that there would be a clear view of her torture. She really didn't want to pee herself in front of her fans... As soon as the ice touched her freshly warmed skin, she knew it was over. She felt a spurt, and she was certain that the spot would be visible on her panties... But a glance at her footage in the screen revealed that the feeling must have been a mirage. The next dash of urine... was not a mirage. In fact, it had enough force to blast through her sponsor's panties...
    19 points
  47. Commission 21

    From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    This time, from @SCTrainFanatic! And damn was it fun to work on all these different poses! 😁
    19 points
  48. Request 023

    From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    It wasn't a long class. Fifty minutes is standard for university courses, after all. But this was her first week of classes and her first year. She'd just finished setting up her dorm room the night before, and it was perfect. A cheap bookcase proudly displayed the creased, tearing-in-places spines of her entire manga collection. The club expo would be next week, and she was ready. Maybe she'd even meet a cute boy there... That morning she had slipped into a navy off-shoulder sweater, pulled on a pair of mint thigh-highs, and unfolded a pleated mini skirt to match. Now that she was officially out from under her parents' control, she could finally express herself in the way she wanted to: a little sexy with a bit of her personal, eclectic flare! She grabbed the 32oz water bottle that served her well over the past two days of going over the syllabuses in her classes; that August heat was killer. Literally. The Sunday headlines had stated that at least six students had already succumbed to heat stroke. And everyone else she'd seen had had a bottle... Which is why she hadn't considered exactly how much she was sucking down during the first two classes. She'd refilled it twice already! And with it nearly half-gone she topped it off before last class too. While watching the arc of water dribble down the transparent edges of the bottle that last time, she noticed an uncomfortable desire to urinate, but decided she could wait through her third class. It was only fifty minutes... Ten less than an hour! She was a fully-grown woman with adult responsibilities, and a trip to the little girl's room would make her several minutes late. In the first week of classes, there was no way in hell she would subject herself to being ogled by the peanut gallery for being late! Never mind her absolutely not wanting to start off on the wrong foot with her instructor Rumor held that college instructors could ruin any chance she'd have at passing a class if they so much as found her even slightly unlikable. She was an adult now... at least, now she was an independent adult. And she'd decided to use the interim time between classes filling her water bottle. If she had to pee, she should have thought about that before taking up that time. At least she wouldn't be thirsty. She held onto this fantasy up until the moment she sat down in that warm, plastic-seated chair. An icy chill of reality seized at her sides the moment she leaned forward to open her notebook. She needed to pee. But the pressing feeling didn't keep her from subconsciously swigging from her bottle to bring much needed moisture into her mouth. OK, so what? As if this was the only time she'd ever had to pee when starting a class. She'd just do what she'd done all throughout high school: hold it. Uncomfortable memories bubbled up from the faint, stomach-twisting concern she felt. There had been more than a few times where she'd left class shaking with desperation. But she reassured herself, and pushed the anxiety down into her gut: while those times were uncomfortable, she had always made it to the toilet. But as the instructor opened the class for the day's session, that concern erupted full-force from wherever she'd managed to keep it... She badly needed to pee. And as much as she wanted to keep her focus on her instructor, her mind wandered toward escape strategies. She'd stupidly taken a seat front-and-center. There was no way she could duck out unnoticed. The thoughts were fond ones, though. She realized that she didn't exactly know where the bathrooms were, but surely there was one somewhere on this floor. At half-way through class, she was folded at her desk with her hands pressing hard against her thighs. Every time she moved her legs, a nauseating wave of boiling, excessive desperation crept across her abdomen. She sweated both from the heat and intense anxiety. She'd made a mistake. A really big mistake. She would have taken being late, so long as she could have released the ocean of hot urine from her twitching body. Her mind played over and over again the torturous, sensation of letting go... but each time, it ended with burning, stinging fullness and not relief. It was as if her body was repeatedly urging her: "This. You need to do this. Remember this? Are you ready to do this?" No. Hold it. Hold it. Part of the problem she faced was a question as to whether or not she had to ask permission. She was in a classroom of a sort, and the instinct was there from all her years in school... But what if she wasn't supposed to ask? She was an adult, now. What was she supposed to do? Hold it. She wondered what it would be like to pee her panties as the instructor wound down the class. The horrifying pulses of her defiance of nature came closer and closer together, like waves against shore stones during a hurricane. "Alright! See you all next week!" Horror snapped away in a bolt of lightning as only sensation remained. Hot, scalding pressure. She shifted upward and out of her seat with a notable lack of grace and briskly exited the room. Her mind was blank, and her vision flew with sparks at the exertion. She cared only about making it to a toilet. Her back was angled stiffly away from her hips to provide as much room as she could for her quivering bladder. First... "Restrooms" was listed on a sign next to a hallway name. Then the little, black plastic rectangle that carried the familiar, female symbol. It denoted that sweet, sweet place where humanity had designated it appropriate for females to empty the bladders that their kidneys had so rudely filled to burst. Then, there was a problem. Physically, she was so close. But the line of women on the inside kept her painfully distant. Again and again, different toilets flushed. Other women emerged. But the line scarcely decreased in length. Two over-worked stalls just weren't enough for the post-class rush. The pulses rolled constantly, like a penny winding down its spin on a counter top. "You've gotta pee. Don't you think you should pee? You're in the room... don't you think it's time to... pee?" That last one didn't end with the now uncomfortably familiar stinging. No. It ended with a hot jet that caused her thighs to instinctively clamp together. She shifted, hoping to spread the little wet mistake thin and thus save her thigh-highs. She pulled with all of her internal muscles and breathed shallow, panicked breaths. She wasn't going to make it. The ferocious disconnect between her iron-clad will and her body had at last made itself terrifyingly known. Soon, she would disgrace herself with unstoppable squirts and a deluge of ecstasy. Her legs carried her out of the room in some futile hope that she could make it to another restroom in time. But without thought, she found herself entering the men's room... The boundaries of society melted to the heat of her desperation. Two men stood in line for the stalls. She didn't have time. Already, her mind clambered to explain exactly how she was supposed to do this. But as the man at the urinal finished up doing what she needed to do... she turned to do the best that she could. Here's a request I did for someone on Discord!
    19 points
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