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Showing content with the highest reputation on 11/18/2020 in all areas

  1. 1,747 downloads

    Two teen girls (18 & 19) wet their panties while standing in the tub, showing us their wet spots (and also their breasts a few times). Quite lovely. 🙂
    Free
    8 points
  2. From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    Day 5 of Omovember: "Drunk and Desperate"! So how do you get slammed and not wake up wrecked? Well, she relied on a bit of dubious math: one glass of good ol' water per beer. That should keep her hydrated and safe from a rough start... right? Well, while that hypothesis will be tested tomorrow she's dealing with another problem tonight. She can't see straight, and she's lost track of the exact number of drinks she's had. All she knows is that her ratio is in-tact... but her bladder is fixing to bust! It doesn't help that all those douche-bag guys she was partying with seem more interested in watching her pee her pants than helping! They can just hose down the fence if they need to go (And boy had they made that obvious to her)! She, on the other hand, is a girl... and her "process" is a bit more elaborate.
    6 points
  3. Jenny

    This was a commission for @ed2, and it was a lot of fun to write! Enjoy! ------------------------------------------------------------ If you wanted to find Jennifer Mártez on the morning of July 10th, 2019, you could do so by arriving at London Euston at around 10:00AM, just after rush hour. From there, you’d need to get the tube- Northern Line- until you reached Goodge Street station, and emerge onto the intersection between Tottenham Street and Tottenham Court Road. Following the former all the way down to Pearson Square, you could cut through onto Riding House and then, finally, you’d find it: an Artisan coffee shop by the name of Kaffeine, and the kind of place you didn’t step foot in unless you were willing to spend a hefty amount on your ground beans. Here the seats were wicker, the tables and fittings sleek black. Everyone in the place looked as though they had come directly from a designer clothes shop, all expensive sweaters and scarves and shoes. There wasn’t an unpicked eyebrow in the house. And there, at the back of the room on the highest table, sat the woman herself. She was dressed in purple, a branded blouse over denim jeans. Her skin was tanned several shades darker than its natural colour, as was the dye in her long, painfully straightened hair. An expert’s taste of the caffe latte in front of her would have revealed the almond milk inside in place of regular, and cinnamon was sprinkled across the foam at the top. She wasn’t waiting long before the woman she was there to meet arrived. Keira Morgan was, at twenty-nine, six years older than Jenny, but she barely looked old enough to buy a drink in America. Her black hair was cut short, except for a fringe that hung so low that it was a miracle she could see beneath it. She’d been representing Jenny for four years now, since the latter got her first big breakthrough on Instagram, although it wasn’t always clear what exactly she did; sometimes Jenny felt like Keira’s main job was to make sure she got her own share of the profits at the end of every month. Today she wore the same thing as always- a fake tan and an even faker smile. “Hi, sorry I’m late,” she said, bumbling towards the table and taking her seat. She hung her diamond-encrusted purse on the back of the chair before sitting, carrying in one hand a steaming cup of mint tea. “How are we today?” Jenny smiled and nodded and played along with the facade, but the truth was that these conversations bored her. They’d bored her for several years now, ever since the novelty of being a minor celebrity- or ‘influencer’, if that was the correct term- had worn off in her early twenties. It was only ever a matter of time before Keira found a way to start talking about what she really wanted to talk about. She’d always ask how Jenny was, but it was nothing but a nicety. Sooner or later they’d get to the point. “So, ITV called and they said they’re not sure you’re famous enough to be on I’m A Celebrity, but they wanted to know if you’re interested in being a backup? It means you go to the hotel in Australia and wait there in case someone drops out”. “Uh, sure, whatever,” Jenny said dismissively. Being paid for a holiday down under didn’t sound too bad to her. “And Zoella’s agent called, he says she’s very sorry, but she doesn’t want to work with you again after last time”. “That bitch,” said Jenny under her breath. “Okay, what else?” “Well…” Keira said, sounding delicate, “it’s about those Gucci jeans. You agreed to have the review up on your channel by Wednesday morning, and it’s still not there. The sponsors aren’t happy. What’s up with that, Jenny? You’re not usually late”. Jenny groaned inwardly. She’d been dreading this coming up. Taking another sip of her coffee, she prepared herself to recite the line she’d been preparing all morning. “It’s fine. I’m taking care of it”. “Taking care of what? Can’t you just review the damn jeans?” “I said it’s fine,” Jenny insisted. She was beginning to get annoyed at Keira’s nosiness. “Well, we need that video up as soon as possible. Where are the jeans, anyway?” Jenny looked down. “Jenny, come on. I know you’re not wearing them, or they would’ve blinded me when I got in the room”. Still, Jenny said nothing. She didn’t know what to say. “Jenny… don’t tell me you lost them?” Jenny shook her head. “I threw them out,” she croaked. “You what?” Keira looked like she might have an aneurism. “You threw out a pair of Gucci jeans? Those things cost the sponsors twelve-hundred pounds, what the hell were you thinking?” “It wasn’t my fault, okay?” Jenny whined defensively, sounding like a wounded animal. “I had to throw them out, they were ruined”. “Ruined how?” Averting her eyes, Jenny looked in her mind again for another lie. When none came, she tried a different tactic: deflection. "It doesn't even matter, I called the Gucci people and they won't replace them". "Well of course they won't, those jeans are worth more than a grand!" "So? Companies usually replace stuff like that for me!" Jenny complained. She really couldn't see how any of this was her fault. "Just tell me what happened to the jeans. Maybe I can twist a few arms, get you a new pair, as long as you tell me what happened". "I don't want to talk about it". "Jenny, get your shit together. I'm the one who gets in hot water if this review doesn't come out soon, so you'd better at least be straight with me". Jenny waited, sighed, sipped her coffee again. Keira had her cornered. It was looking like she'd have to try the one thing she rarely did: be honest. "Okay," she said finally, "I'll tell you. But I have to warn you, this story doesn't paint me in a very good light..." ————————————————————————————— Keira leaned forward eagerly, her face more than a tad pale. She looked very much like a woman who was trying to figure out what the kid she was supposed to be managing had done to wreck a £1,200 pair of jeans, and was already wondering how she was going to find the money to replace them. Jenny rarely had to worry about the financial side of things- she simply made the content and collected her payslips. It was Keira who suffered when things went wrong. “Well, come on,” she said, “how bad can it be?” What she wanted to say was I’ve been clearing up your mess for four years already, but Keira kept that part to herself. Working with unpredictable, self-centred young people, restraint was her specialty. An outburst often seemed sorely tempting, but on a bad day it would lose her a client. There was no point getting worked up now. “I started making the review on Monday, just like we planned,” started Jenny. This was surprising news to Keira. She’d assumed that the girl had just been too lazy to start on time, causing the delay. But this reveal only made her more suspicious. A strange thought crossed her mind. “Is this about Jimmy?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. Jimmy was their video editor, who worked from his home in the south of the city. He did good work, but could be a little too slow for Keira’s liking at times. She’d long since guessed that Jenny had taken a bit of a shine to him, hence why she might be covering for him here. But the girl put that train of thought to bed right away. “No, Jimmy never even got any footage. I didn’t even get the chance to film anything”. “What?” Keira could hardly believe what she was hearing at this stage. It was one thing to find out that Jenny had wrecked these incredibly expensive jeans, but the fact that that she hadn’t even recorded the smallest bit of footage with them was another level of serious trouble. “I was out that day, wearing the jeans, going around town like usual,” explained Jenny. “I only go out for a few hours, usually, just to see how they are”. “How they are?” “Yeah, how they are,” Jenny snapped, “you know… are they comfy? Do they draw attention? Stuff like that”. “Okay, I can follow that bit,” Keira said, “but how did you manage to wreck the jeans? It’s London, for God’s sake, not a bloody swamp”. “It wasn’t my fault,” Jenny huffed again, starting to lose the slippery cool of her on-screen persona. Keira could tell that this was bothering Jenny, and bothering Jenny was not an easy thing to do. Whatever had happened, it was probably one of two things: embarrassing or illegal. Keira didn’t much care which: she’d been doing this job for a long time, and covering up her client’s scandalous off-camera misdeeds was just part of the package. She’d seen it all- drugs, prostitutes, fights. The tabloids ate that kind of stuff up like it was candy, and it was her responsibility to make sure they never found out. She rarely failed. So she was starting to lose her patience. If Jenny cooperated then they would stand a much better chance of fixing this- whatever ‘this’ was. “Listen, kid,” she growled, adopting a tone she reserved only for those rare moments when she knew she needed to instil a little bit of fear into a client’s mind, “I don’t care if you dropped them in the Thames or swapped them for a gram of coke. I just need you to tell me the truth, or we’re never going to work this out”. Jenny swallowed. She was cornered. In that moment she looked less like one of the world’s most powerful social media stars and more like the unqualified, friendless early-twenties gossip girl she actually was. After a pause that seemed to go on forever, she opened her mouth. “I was... ill,” she said delicately. “What, you mean you threw up on them?” “No”. “Explain,” ordered Keira. “I was in Piccadilly,” she said dully, “I went to get food, and then I started getting stomach cramps”. Keira’s heart sank. She knew now exactly where this story was headed, and it wasn’t good. If her suspicion was right, there was no chance the jeans would have been salvageable even if Jenny had held onto them. “Oh, Jenny,” she groaned, almost feeling something approaching sympathy, “why didn’t you just go? It’s Piccadilly, there’s bathrooms everywhere. You can’t move ten feet without walking into one”. “You know I can’t go in public toilets,” Jenny whined, “they’re dirty and full of people. And what if someone recognises me? It’s bad for my image”. Not for the first time at that meeting, Kiera found herself wanting to tell Jenny to grow up and get over herself. But she didn’t. Instead she said “isn’t crapping yourself worse for your image?” “Well, yeah,” Jenny said, her face turning red, “but I thought I could make it home. I was only half an hour away”. “Jenny, you have the worst bodily control of anyone I’ve ever met,” Keira said bluntly, “what the hell made you think you could hold it?” She wasn’t mincing her words, but Keira was right about that: Jenny had always been supremely accident-prone, to an extent that was almost unheard of amongst women of her age. Keira knew (through her slightly illegal readings of Jenny’s medical records) that doctors had agreed that there was nothing medically wrong with her, and yet she seemed to wet herself at least once a month and mess herself a couple of times a year, too. It was a mystery to Jenny, but Keira thought she had a good idea of why it happened: Jenny was careless, cocky and lazy. She would rather check her phone for two minutes than use the bathroom before leaving the house, even if she knew she wouldn’t get another chance to empty herself for hours. And, predictably, that led to some humiliating accidents, which Keira usually had to try and keep out of the public eye. She still had some avid memories of her first experiences in this field. Oh, she’d been younger then, and far more naive than she’d become in the more recent years. That more optimistic, less hardened, happier Keira- the pre-Jenny Keira- had never in a million years expected that so much of her job would consist of babysitting what essentially boiled down to a badly toilet-trained kid. So, when Jenny had wet her pants for the first time in front of Keira, she’d had no idea what to do. They had been at the Shorty Awards, one of the premium events in the social media world. Jenny was almost brand-new to the scene, and Keira had only just taken the girl under her wing, seeing in her the potential for huge popularity (and a hell of a lot of money) that most agents didn’t notice until the contract between the two women was already signed and sealed. Had Keira spotted Jenny and tried to acquire her as a client just a couple of months later, it would have been too late- she blew up a few months later, gained half a million followers in a few weeks, and by then she wouldn’t have looked twice at a small-time rep like Keira. Then Keira would surely have run out of money and been forced to quit the industry for a safer job. For that, she was grateful to Jenny, even if she didn’t much respect her. The evening had been going smoothly. Jenny didn’t win anything- she was still a newbie, after all, and couldn’t compete with the big names of that era like Zoella or Pewdiepie- but she was nominated in two categories, so her presence was expected. Only at the end of the night did Keira have any more to do than smile and clap politely. Right after leaving, pushing through the crowds to emerge onto a bustling New York street, Jenny had turned to Keira with panic in her eyes. “Shit, Keira, I really need a wee,” she’d whispered. Keira remembered that, at the time, she’d been no more than a little confused. Jenny was young, sure, but she was still an adult and there didn’t seem to be any reason why she couldn’t have just gone in the Times Centre. There’d been no warning, no sign at all that the girl needed the bathroom until then. So Keira assumed- wrongly- that she’d have no problem holding it until they got back to the hotel. “We’ll be home in fifteen minutes,” Keira had said impatiently, not understanding just yet what the fuss was about. But Jenny wasn’t having any of it. Now it was clear to see the way she’d been squirming, thighs glued together, knees bent as she walked. “I don’t think I can hold it that long,” she whined. Uncomfortable, Keira had pressed on anyway. She was sure that Jenny had to be exaggerating. Nobody went from neutral to desperate that quickly, unless the girl had some kind of incontinence-inducing medical condition which she’d failed to disclose in her contract. So she’d simply assumed that everything would be fine and it would all end with Jenny taking a nice long piss in the hotel toilet. How wrong she’d been. They’d only been walking for a few minutes, heading to the nearest Subway station, at the end of 8th Avenue. That was when it happened. Right outside the stairs that led down towards the station, still surrounded by people, when Jenny had suddenly stopped. By the time Keira had realised that she’d left her client behind and turned around to find her frozen on the spot, it was too late. In the fluorescent lights of the high street, there was no mistaking the rivers flowing out from behind her short black shirt and down her legs. For a moment, while Jenny stood and stared in shame at the puddle forming beneath her, Keira was too shocked to do anything. Then she’d spotted a guy, no older than maybe twenty-five, pointing his phone camera at Jenny and laughing. At that, she’d snapped into action, almost gleeful to finally get the chance to do the part of her job she was best at. This was the part of her job that made her feel alive. Reputation was everything, and if this news got out then Jenny’s fledgeling reputation would take a hit it couldn’t afford. And that meant Keira losing income, which she literally couldn’t afford. She grabbed the man’s phone and swiftly pocketed it before marching Jenny away and into the first taxi she saw, happy to pay the cab fare if it meant nobody else saw her client with piss all down her legs. That night Jenny had been too embarrassed to say much. Only the next day, over breakfast, did Keira coax the truth out of her: Jenny had always been accident-prone, even though doctors said it was purely psychological. This was hardly earth-shattering news, but Keira wished she’d gotten a heads-up. Since then there had been countless more accidents, and over time these bizarre moments had turned into something Keira had never expected: A normal part of life. There was no longer anything surprising about Jenny admitting to her agent that she was bursting for the toilet, and she'd grown so used to it now that she knew exactly how to tackle the situation. In fact, Keira had gotten into the habit, whenever out somewhere public with Jenny, of finding out exactly where the nearest bathrooms were so that she could get her there in time if disaster struck- which it often did. The result of this was that Jenny's accidents had gradually grown less and less frequent. Emergencies were just as common as ever, it was simply that fewer of them ended in a soaking these days. Poop accidents were a different story. They were by far less frequent that Jenny’s wetting incidents, although still far more common than almost any other adult in England, Keira was sure. That meant that, fortunately, Keira had rarely had to deal with it personally. They tended to happen while Jenny was on a night out with her friends, at a restaurant or (sometimes) just lounging at home and leaving it too late to go to the bathroom. Only twice had Keira been present when Jenny had dropped a load into her pants: once on a publicity day at a theme park and once while they were at a photoshoot in London. From those two days, she thought she had a pretty good grasp of how Jenny’s bowels worked: she would get a sudden urge, and then have maybe half an hour to find a bathroom before things got too desperate, the need overwhelmed her and she had an accident. And when that happened, well… it was enough to say that Jenny’s dumps were never small. That was why Keira had known that the jeans were beyond help as soon as she’d figured out that Jenny had pooped in them. If Keira crapped herself, the damage would probably be limited to the underwear- not that she’d ever done it. There was no chance of that with Jenny; the loads were far too big. “I just thought this time might be different,” Jenny protested, even though it was quite clear that the real reason for her not making it was her snobbery. She thought she was too good for a public bathroom and preferred to risk messing herself than to set foot in one… which was just one of the many reasons why Keira had come to view her as a conceited, spoilt kid. She supposed she was partly to blame for that. At the end of the day, Keira was one of the leading figures in Jenny’s transformation from a fairly normal kid into a diva. “Jesus Christ, Jenny,” she said, unable to hide her frustration, “what happened next?” “I got on the tube, and it was really embarrassing. I had to keep bouncing around and squirming everywhere. I looked like a kid”. “Did anyone recognise you?” asked Keira. She couldn’t give two shits if Jenny was embarrassed, as long as the internet didn’t find out about it. This was the bit that really worried her. Once something got on the internet it was there forever. She’d seen someone on Reddit once talking about the incident in New York, but that didn’t bother Keira: barely anyone would ever read the thing, and even if they did, they were unlikely to believe that a grown woman would wet herself so publicly like that. More likely, people would assume that it was just a lie told by a bitter troll. This was different, though, because Keira hadn’t been on that tube train to make sure nobody saw her client wriggling like a child from an urgent need to shit. “No,” Jenny said with a quick shake of her head, “there were only, like, three people on the carriage and they were all super old. I doubt any of them knew who I was”. Keira breathed a sigh of relief- one less thing to worry about. “But then I farted. I couldn’t help it, it just came out. I thought it might be silent but, like, I’m pretty sure everyone on the train heard it”. Jenny looked mortified, but the woman opposite her almost wanted to laugh. Her personal view was that a little embarrassment every now and then was exactly what Jenny needed to keep her feet in some semblance of contact with the ground. Again, though, that wasn’t something you said to your boss, even if she was a superficial brat. “Okay, so what happened next?” Keira pressed, hoping to find out as much as she could. The damage to the jeans was done, but she needed to know exactly what other damage she might need to clean up. The devil was in the detail. “I need you to tell me everything”. “What? Why?” Jenny asked, looking horrified. She seemed to have thought that she would come into this meeting, explain that she’d lost the jeans and there would be no further questions asked. The reality that she was currently being faced with was far more uncomfortable- and awkward- than that. Which was ironic, for several reasons. Around her friends (if you could call them that), Jenny wasn’t remotely shy with things like this. Keira knew that because she’d read plenty of their group chats on WhatsApp, although Jenny could never find out about that, of course. Some would call it an invasion of privacy- okay, almost everyone would call it an invasion of privacy. To Keira, though, it was a necessary evil. It was vital that she made sure the public kept seeing Jenny in a good light. Reading Jenny’s messages was the only way to get some peace of mind that she wasn’t going to do anything controversial or scandalous- blackface, for example, or cocaine. Besides, it was hardly difficult. All of Jenny’s passwords had been password for as long as they’d known each other. And if it was true that Jenny going down would take Keira down with her… well, wasn’t she just doing what was best for both of them? She didn't need reminding of the most recent of these conversations that she had, ethically or not, been reading for at least three years. It wasn't something Keira enjoyed, or at least she liked to tell herself that. It meant she had to see everything, from Jenny's mundane conversations with her dad to risqué sexting with random boys to risky exchanges with her weed dealer. Keira was keeping tabs on this last one, just in case he ever felt like running his mouth off to the tabloids for a few easy quid. For her part, Jenny probably thought Keira had no idea she even smoked. But the one that came to Keira's mind at that exact moment was from just a week before their coffee shop meeting. She'd logged onto Jenny's WhatsApp account just after lunchtime, using software she'd downloaded that made her undetectable, and was surprised to see Jenny and a few of the parasites she called her posse in mid-conversation. While it was certainly not the first toilet-related chat she'd read on Jenny's profile, it was one of the few that she didn't forget immediately after reading. She could remember it so vividly that the exact words were almost imprinted in her brain. They’d been in the middle of some boring chatter about a stupid TV show when Jenny had changed the subject. Ugh, I really need a poo, she’d written, followed by some annoyed emojis. Me too, but way too lazy, had come a reply from Phoebe, one of the rich kids Jenny knew from school. Nah, like really REALLY need a poo, Jenny had said, I can feel it poking out I did a huge one this morning, another girl wrote, accompanied by a purple devil face, but you talking about it makes me need one again. This one was named Zara, and she was usually the one who bought the drugs to a party as far as Keira could work out. Can’t be fucked 2 get up, Jenny explained. Just did the worst fart everrr. Lol Had like three cups of coffee this morning, said Phoebe, it always makes me have 2 take a dump. Yeah coffee goes right through me, I need a wee as well, Zara had agreed. Always need a piss when I need a shit x Jenny had said. Keira had watched this conversation unfold with a mixture of disgust and amusement, most of it no more interesting than what she’d already read, until: When ur busting for a poo but the bed is so comfy, came a message from Jenny, accompanied by a gif of an angry young girl. Just poop the bed, said Phoebe. Lol- Zara again. Mmmmm I might do it, Keira had read. Until then she’d assumed Jenny was joking, but that message made her eyes widen and her back straighten. It’s really desperate, don’t know if I can hold. What- seriously? Phoebe asked. Do u dare me? 😉 came Jenny’s response, can always clean it up later x Phoebe had hammered out her reply quickly, followed by plenty of shocked faces. I didn’t think u would acc do it!!! Then had followed one of the most shocking things Keira had read in three years of checking her client’s messages: Nah, can’t make it 2 loo, its coming out. A relieved emoji. Rn?!?!?!??? Yeah x couldn’t hold it anymore OMG!!! ur shitting the bed? Feels amazing! Jenny had said, oh shit, I’m weeing too. Can’t even stop it. Nah u must be winding us up, insisted Zara. Keira, at the time, had to agree. There was no way Jenny was really pooping and peeing her bed- was there? Except she really was, and the image that Jenny sent in response confirmed it. In it, her legs and bare bum were visible, twisted to the side to hide her pussy. The bedsheets were soaked, their usual light pink instead a hot, blood red. And on the centre, piled right between where her thighs had clearly been, was unmistakably a very large pile of poo. That image had been burned into Keira’s brain, unshift-able. Now, looking across the table at Jenny, it was hard to think of anything else. But she had to. Jenny liked to tell her friends every last detail, and now Keira had to coax that same level of information out of her. “I can only help you if you’re honest with me, hun,” she said, squeezing her voice through that cookie-cutter of patience she’d honed so well over the years. It couldn’t be much clearer how deeply unhappy Jenny was with the turn the conversation had taken, but Keira knew that she’d co-operate in the end. She always did. The girl lacked the necessary backbone to rebel. “So, you farted,” Keira pressed, “what happened next?” Across from her, Jenny exhaled through her nose, eyes furious. Then, reluctantly, she began to talk. “I got off at my stop a few minutes later, but then, on the escalator- I couldn’t help it- I farted again,” she whispered, “only this one- this one was… wet”. Her cheeks were a deep red, and her voice was almost inaudibly quiet, as if she was paranoid that someone a few tables over might be recording the conversation. In another context Keira might have been impressed; she hadn’t known for sure until then that Jenny even had a quiet voice. But she still smelt a rat. Clearly this wasn’t the whole story. “Okay, so you sharted,” Keira said, trying to wrap her head around this, “why did that mean you had to throw the whole pair jeans out?”. Jenny huffed, and for a moment there was a hint- just a hint- of real anger in her eyes, before it was swiftly replaced by that hot-flushed shame once again. It was the first time that Keira truly appreciated that, though Jenny was technically still her boss, she was the one who was really in control. She knew the secrets, and therefore she held the power. “Come on, Keira,” she whined eventually, “don’t make me say it”. “No, I’m gonna make you say it,” Keira insisted, refusing to be deterred, “I’m not dropping this until I know exactly what happened, okay?” “Fine!” Jenny looked away, possibly in search of some hole in the earth she could dive into, “By the time I got up to the street, it was really hard to walk. I could feel it, you know, poking out. And I was really trying to suck it back in, but nothing was working". "Well, no shit," said Keira bluntly, ignoring the unintended pun, "that's not how bodies work. You can't just suck a log back in". "I had to try something". "Couldn't you have tried pooping before leaving the house?" she sniped. Jenny pulled back like a wounded animal. She seemed to be searching for something to say that would rescue her a bit of dignity, give her some kind of defence. Instead, she offered up the most childish explanation possible. "I didn't need to go then," she said sourly. Keira remembered that one. It was the oldest excuse in the book- so old that she hadn't heard it since she was in primary school. It was almost absurd hearing this grown woman use it now, two decades later. But then, wasn't that what Jenny was? Her body had grown up but her mind had never been given any motive to do the same. For the last four years she'd been rewarded for acting like a spoilt teen. Maybe this was the inevitable consequence. "Okay, whatever," Keira said dismissively. She couldn't be bothered to waste too much time thinking about what were, ultimately, unimportant details. There was still so much more that she needed to find out, starting with: "so where did it... you know?" "Where did what?" Jenny repeated, sounding more like a parrot than a person. There was no telling whether she was being deliberately obtuse or she was genuinely just not bright enough to know what she was being asked. With Jenny, it was usually hard to make a distinction between the two. "Where did you shit yourself, Jenny?" she said, losing patience again. She must have spoken a little too loudly in her annoyance; a few people at other tables turned their heads, as if they weren't sure if they had misheard. Jenny flushed an even darker shade of red, which Keira hadn't realised was even possible. The girl- who almost never went out in public without enough fake tan on to make her look like a walking apricot- was suddenly a colour closer to a tomato, or perhaps a strawberry. Any darker and she could pass as a living sunburn awareness display. Keira was more or less past caring how embarrassed her 'client' was by that point. The news of losing the twelve-hundred-pound trousers had infuriated her, and she wanted this meeting over with as soon as possible so that she could get to work minimising the damage (which, ironically, was the very thing that Jenny had failed to do to the jeans). What did it matter if Jenny had to swallow a bit of humble pie to make that happen? Jenny shot daggers at Keira, unable to even look in the direction of the rest of the restaurant. For a brief moment Keira wondered if she might have finally gone too far. She had never had a traditional client-agent relationship with Jenny, always aware of the benefits of keeping the kid under her thumb. If she was too polite, too kind, too forgiving to Jenny, she might just get too big for her boots. If she ever felt that she'd outgrown Keira's capabilities, there was no way she'd renew their contract together when it expired the next year. She'd end up switching to one of the biggest agents, like Logan Paul or Addison Rae had. So Keira had to try and keep her grounded by putting on a bit of the teacher-student act every once in a while. But it would be all too easy to push her a bit too far, and humiliating her in public like this could be the final straw. And yet, as always, it really was only a brief moment. Jenny did shoot those dagger eyes at her... then dropped her gaze again. Now she wanted this over with just as much as Keira. "On Oxford Street," she mumbled. For the fiftieth time that morning, Keira couldn't believe her ears. "Oxford Street?" she repeated, feeling like now perhaps she was the parrot. "Yeah". "The literal busiest street in Europe?" "I know it sounds bad-" Jenny began, but Keira wasn't finished. "Oxford Street! Sixty thousand roads in this fucking city and you choose the one that's never not jammed with people!" she was aware now that her voice was rising, but so was the panic in her chest, tightening like the knot of a noose. Jenny had lied to her. She'd tricked her into thinking that this was nothing more than a stupid little anecdote and a chunk of money wasted, and now suddenly she was finding out that her biggest client had messed herself in the middle of the most densely populated road in the continent. She whipped out her phone, the latest Apple model. That, she told herself, is the kind of luxury buy you can say goodbye to if this bimbo's career goes down the toilet. It would have been preferable if her poop had been the thing going down the toilet but you can't fix that now. Within seconds, she had Twitter open. Jenny was watching, afraid, unable to comprehend why Keira was so upset. Into the search bar she hammered a few key searches, checking back a few days each time to make sure there was nothing there. Jennifer Martez poo. No recent results. Jennifer Martez crap. No recent results. Jennifer Martez poop. One recent result, from some guy who claimed to want Jenny to poop on his chest. Whatever floats your boat- that was Keira's motto. She kept scrolling. Nothing else under those search terms from the last week. Jennifer Martez shit. Plenty of recent results, but thankfully most of them seemed to be from people who thought Jenny's videos were shit, which Keira didn't mind or even particularly disagree with. Then, finally, one more- just to be on the safe side. Jennifer Martez oxford street. Nothing at all, except for tweets about a book signing Jenny had done on Oxford Street the year before. But Keira wasn't done yet. She went back and searched each term again, replacing Jennifer with Jenny. Still nothing. Only then, finally, did she start to relax. Her breathing eased, and she looked grimly up at Jenny. She'd almost forgotten the girl was even still there. If her client had gotten up and walked out while Keira was checking Twitter, she probably wouldn't have noticed. "I think you got away with it, kid," she said finally. Later she would check Instagram, Facebook, Google and (just to be safe) Reddit, but if it wasn't on Twitter by now, chances are nobody who saw the accident had recognised her after all. For a girl with several million followers, a huge chunk of which lived in London alone, that surely had to be considered a huge slice of luck. “I told you,” hissed Jenny, “people are staring”. Keira took a glance around and realised that Jenny was right. Observation wasn’t usually her strong suit unless her reputation was concerned. She caught at least two people looking up at her, who quickly averted their gaze at the sight of Keira’s flickering eyes. Scaring people just a little wasn’t hard; as long as she was confident, one glare could make them believe that she could ruin their lives if they gave her any reason. Nonetheless, the situation had grown a little too public for Keira’s tastes. They needed to talk somewhere where she was certain they wouldn’t be overheard. Eventually she relented. “Fine. Let’s get out of here”. ——————————————————————————————————————————— Within minutes they had stumbled into Russell Square, one of the few open areas in walking distance that was big enough to ensure a private conversation. A huge park dotted with arching, shady trees, Keira had always found it a reliable place to avoid prying ears, which was a necessity far more often than she’d expected in her line of work. They walked in stormy silence, Keira seething with frustration, Jenny towing along like a student being marched to the headteacher’s office. When they spilled through the gates, both were relieved to find the square as quiet as they’d expected at this time on a Wednesday morning. There was a couple having a picnic, a man walking a dog, but nobody near enough to make out what they were saying. That was ideal, because Keira still had one burning question she needed to ask. “Here’s what I don’t get: why not tell me?” she groaned, hoping for both their sakes that Jenny had a good answer, “If you’d told me right away we could’ve sorted this out days ago. Now I’ve got a pissed off mega corporation, a bunch of pissed off sponsors and we’re twelve hundred down”. “Well…” Jenny began, “usually you don’t need to find out”. “Usually?” “Yeah. I mean, this has happened before”. “Ah,” Keira said flatly, “well, I probably should’ve guessed”. She was done being surprised at this point. By now, if Jenny had told her that she was actually a cow named Martin dressed in a human costume, Keira would’ve found it maybe the third or fourth most interesting revelation of the morning. “But it’s never usually a problem,” Jenny protested, “I always just message the company directly, tell them I need a second item and I get one. No questions asked”. “So, purely out of interest, how many pairs of jeans have you ruined since I started managing you?” Keira’s voice was dripping with enough sarcasm to water a garden of irony. “Um…” Keira was proven wrong right away: this girl could still surprise her after all. “You’ve lost count?” “It’s not just jeans, though!” Jenny said defensively, “sometimes it’s bikinis, or lingerie”. “How is that better? That’s worse!” Keira had never heard such exasperation in her own voice. “I don’t know! I’ve always gotten away with it”. “Yeah, well, Gucci aren’t Victoria’s bloody Secret,” Keira growled, “of course they’re not going to give you a free pair, not at that price”. Jenny looked down. “I probably should’ve known that. But I was hoping they’d cave in if I kept asking”. A thought popped into Keira’s mind. “Wait a moment, Jenny,” she began, “how often does this happen? Just give me your best guess”. “Uh, three or four times a year, maybe?” “Is that why your review was so late on that Ann Summers swimwear?” “Maybe,” Jenny said quietly. “So yes, then,” Keira decided. “It wasn’t my fault. They should warn you not to go to a water park after eating spicy food”. “You pooed yourself in a swimming pool?” “Technically, no,” she said, “I was on a slide”. “How have you never been caught doing this yet?” Keira was almost beside herself with the strangest mix of emotions she’d ever encountered: anger, confusion, sympathy and a bizarre desire to laugh. “I don’t know,” she sighed, frustrated, “it’s like… I always almost make it in time, so whenever I have… you know… an accident, I’m always close enough to the loo that I can just get in there before anyone recognises me. That’s why nobody ever finds out”. “Hang on”. Something dawned on Keira then. At first she thought it was a crazy idea, a paranoid flight of fancy. But was it? This was Jenny she was talking about. Suddenly that crazy idea seemed perfectly believable. “This doesn’t have anything to do with the car thing, does it?” Jenny didn’t answer, and her silence told Keira all she needed to know. “For God’s sake, Jenny. What happened?” “I was driving back from Alton Towers, and there was traffic,” Jenny mumbled. “Couldn’t you just stop somewhere?” “I tried, but it was rush hour,” she said, blushing, “and I drank a lot during the day and… I couldn’t hold it. I really tried, though, honestly. I know sometimes I give up easily when I’m busting for a wee, ‘cos I’d rather just buy new jeans than hold it for ages. But I didn’t want to ruin the car, I’d only just got it. I was squeezing and grabbing and bouncing and everything but it came out anyway, I was too desperate. I took it to the cleaner but she said the seat was too far gone and I’d never get the smell out, so I bought the new car”. Keira wanted time to absorb this news- sorting out the replacement car had been a long and expensive process- but she was distracted by something. Jenny was fidgeting. Not a lot, not enough that she had noticed earlier, but subtly. She was changing position every few seconds, shifting her minute weight from one foot to the other and back again. And her knees- they weren’t crossed, but they were certainly bent slightly, and they looked as though they really wanted to fold over one another. They’d just come from a coffee shop, where Jenny had polished off a large latte. And coffee always made Jenny need the bathroom. Keira had to wonder… “Jenny, do you need a wee right now?” Jenny blushed again. “Yeah, why?” she said. “Do you need a poo as well?” she said sternly, feeling strangely like a mother talking to her kid. Jenny shook her head once, tight-lipped, but there was a smell in the air that said otherwise. “I’m pretty sure you’ve farted,” she pressed. “Okay, fine,” Jenny confessed, “coffee always makes me need a poo, you know that”. Keira just sighed. “Yeah, me too. You gonna make it back to your place in time?” Before the girl could reply, she hastened to add, “think carefully before you answer that”. Jenny weighed up her options for a few seconds, then conceded. “No, probably not,” she said quietly. "Fine, my apartment's really close. You can use my loo, then we'll try and figure out this whole Gucci jean thing". Jenny was in no position to argue, which was how Keira knew she really was desperate. Ordinarily Jenny would definitely protest violently against the idea of using Keira's bathroom. She'd only ever done so once before, when she was on the verge of an accident and had no other choice. On that occasion she'd blocked the toilet with a monster dump that had taken hours to get rid of. Keira hoped that today wouldn't see a repeat of that. As she'd already been reminded a few times that morning, once Jenny realised she needed the toilet it was never long before she grew utterly bursting. After a few minutes of walking it was clear that the younger woman was struggling to hold on. Keira felt bad for her. She knew that this was the perfect microcosm of their relationship: most of the time she deeply disliked Jenny, finding her superficial, vain and selfish. She never had any patience for the girl's misadventures or her awful control over bodily functions. And yet... she did care. In a weird way. Sometimes. By the time they reached Keira's apartment- no more than five minutes away, but it felt far longer under the suspense of a potential public accident- Jenny was bouncing on the spot to keep it all inside her tiny frame. The moment they were safely inside her building, her left hand shot down to her crotch and grabbed it tightly, squeezing like a vice. "Oh, God, I don't think I'm going to make it," Jenny whined. This time Keira heard it: a small, muffled fart that slipped out as she was led up the stairs. "Why didn't you tell me you had to go earlier?" Keira said, annoyed but primarily now concerned. "I didn't want you to be angry," came the meek reply. "It doesn't matter now, we're here". Keira fished her keys out of her pocket and started unlocking the door. She was starting to seriously need the bathroom now, for both things- enough that she really hoped Jenny wouldn't take too long on the loo- but it was clear that the younger woman's needs were more urgent, so she let Jenny go ahead and use the toilet first. Keira had barely closed the door before Jenny sat down on the toilet. The noise was quite something. There was no pause between her toned bum hitting the seat and the beginning of an explosion of runny poo that echoed in the bowl. She heard the groan of relief, which started out half-shy but quickly lost all inhibitions and became a growl of pure pleasure at making it just on time. Then came the pee, hissing down into what Keira presumed were already poop-filled waters. Hearing Jenny go, having barely avoided ruining her underwear, was only making Keira's need more pressing. Usually her control was great but this wasn't the first time she'd wished she had an apartment with two bathrooms. She set down her coat and headed slowly towards her flat's toilet. Jenny was there, as expected, and she hadn't managed to close the door before sitting down. It was wide open, and for a second Keira got a brief glance of her client sitting on the loo in pure bliss, voiding herself ferociously at both ends, eyes closed from the overwhelming intensity of the feelings. Her private parts were on full display between her legs and she didn't seem to care. Keira felt an urgent need to fart, instinctively suppressed it and then realised there was no need. She let it go, loud and powerful, and Jenny didn't even notice. "Uh, Jenny," she began tentatively, not wanting to intrude but feeling that she was running out of time, "could you try and hurry up? I really need to go as well". "Yeah, sorry," Jenny said, "I'll be as quick as I can. Just got-" she paused, grunted and out came another log with a splash, "a little bit more left. There, I think I'm done". She started grabbing toilet paper and wiping quickly, sensing the genuine urgency in Keira's voice. "Sorry I didn't close the door," she said bashfully. "It's okay," Keira said, "I'm just glad you didn't leave a puddle on the floor". END
    4 points
  4. 990 downloads

    A girl attempts an upside down wetting with jeans and a red tank top on. Thankfully, it works, and she soaks her pants and shirt in the process.
    Free
    4 points
  5. Like I said, a day late for this one. Hope it was worth the wait! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Day 16: Shy bladder Amalia (Wakfu) --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Amalia Sheran Sharm, princess of the Sadidas, was not the most fond of her royal duties. All in all, she would have to say she greatly preferred her current life of adventure. Still, this lifestyle was not without its annoyances. She could do without the leering stares of her travelling companion Sadlygrove, for instance. Also, the boundless enthusiasm of little Yugo, another party member, could go from endearing to annoying very easily. And as much as she liked sleeping out under the stars, nothing could compare to a soft bed. In the end, it was sometimes hard for her to go without the comforts of a life of royalty. Amalia and company were currently hiking through thick forest towards the next stop on their journey. The ultimate goal being Oma Island, where they hoped to find information on Yugo’s mysterious heritage. They were a long way from the sea now, however. The terrain was gruelling, especially given Amalia’s preference for going barefoot, and she could tell the others were feeling it as well. Evangelyne, Amalia’s bodyguard and best friend, was the first to speak up. “We should probably stop and rest soon,” she commented to the princess. “We’ve been walking for ages, and we don’t want to exhaust ourselves.” “Agreed,” Amalia whispered, “but I don’t want to be the one to admit she needs a break.” “Come on, there’s no shame in admitting it,” Evangelyne pointed out. Amalia was about to argue, but Yugo spoke up first. “Um, everyone?” he asked hesitantly. “Could we take a little break? I kinda have to pee.” “Sure, kid,” said Ruel, Yugo’s guardian and the elder statesman of the group. “Truth be told, I need to drain the dragon too.” He sighed. “Yet again. Ah, the joys of growing old.” “Same here,” Sadlygrove added. “Me too,” Evangelyne admitted, sounding a little embarrassed. She pointed to a thick cluster of trees up ahead. “In that case, boys on the left, girls on the right.” With that, the party split up by gender. Once the guys were out of earshot, Evangelyne breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m glad Yugo brought it up,” she said. “I’ve been holding it in since we left town.” She lowered herself into a squatting position. “Amalia, do you need to go too?” “No, I’m fine,” said Amalia. “In that case, do you mind keeping watch for me?” asked Evangelyne. “In case Sadlygrove tries to peep on us?” “Okay,” said Amalia, a little reluctantly. She turned away and heard the rustle of fabric, then a continuous splashing sound and a sigh as her friend began to pee. Amalia tried not to listen, not just out of respect, but because she was also starting to feel the urge to relieve herself. However, one of the effects of a sheltered upbringing was a shy bladder. Amalia couldn’t stand the idea of someone watching or even hearing her pee, even her best friend. During their travels in the wilderness, she had often held it in the entire day before sneaking off at night to do her business. Even then, she could only pee in complete silence; the slightest sound would cause her urethra to clamp shut. Amalia squirmed as Evangelyne kept peeing, humming to herself as she sprayed the forest floor. “Ooh, that feels good,” she sighed, inadvertently making Amalia wince. “I didn’t realize I had to go that badly!” “Y-you don’t say,” the princess replied as a jolt ran through her bladder. Shortly after, the torturous pitter-patter of Evangelyne’s pee came to a halt. “Ah, much better!” she sighed. “Do you mind getting me something to wipe with?” “Sure,” groaned Amalia. She snapped her fingers and a few leaves fell from the trees above. “Thank you,” said Evangelyne, grabbing them. She wiped herself off and stood up. “All done!” she called. “Took you ladies long enough,” Ruel grumbled from the other side of the thicket. The group reformed and continued on their way, Amalia now needing to pee worse than ever. Her condition only worsened as they marched on. Amalia’s bladder was jostled with every step, begging to be emptied. She cursed herself for her modesty and tried to hold it in. We’re almost there, she tried to convince herself. It’s just a bit farther to the next town. “Are you okay?” Evangelyne asked, noticing her friend’s pained expression. “Fine,” Amalia lied, “just fine.” An hour passed, and much to Amalia’s dismay, there was still no sign of civilisation. By this point, she was getting truly desperate. Her knees shook as she rubbed her legs together, trying to keep her pee from leaking out. “How much longer do we have to keep this up?” moaned Sadlygrove. “According to the map,” said Yugo, “we should reach town by nightfall.” “Nightfall?” Sadlygrove and Amalia moaned simultaneously. He stared at her. “I didn’t think a princess of the forest would be whining about this,” he teased. “I am not whining!” huffed Amalia, stomping her foot in irritation. “I just- eep!” With her focus interrupted, she felt a single drop of urine leak into her panties. She fell back in shock, her face red. “Amalia!” cried Evangelyne, rushing over to the fallen princess. “Are you okay?” “No!” she finally admitted, searching for a plausible explanation. “I’m injured! Eva, stay with me! Everyone else, leave us!” If I’m going to humiliate myself, Amalia reasoned, it’s best if only she sees it. “Hmm,” Evangelyne muttered once the guys had gone. “You don’t look hurt. What’s going on?” “I, um, lied earlier,” Amalia confessed, her bladder throbbing painfully. “So... you’re not injured?” asked Evangelyne, confused. “No!” cried Amalia. “I mean, yes I’m not injured. But I lied before that!” She blushed redder than ever before continuing. “I have to, you know, water the flowers!” A look of confusion crossed Evangelyne’s face, then one of understanding. “Ohhhh,” she said slowly as she realized. “Why didn’t you say so earlier? I mean, there’s no need to be modest around me. We’ve taken baths together!” “It’s not that!” said Amalia. “It’s… I… I have a shy bladder!” Evangelyne giggled at that, but quickly caught herself. “Aw,” she said sympathetically, “so that’s why you never… hmmm. I think I know what to do.” “What’s that?” asked Amalia. “I’ll go ahead and tell them that you needed to absorb some life energy from the forest. Then you’ll be alone to do what you need to do.” “You really think they’ll buy that?” Amalia questioned. Evangelyne shrugged. “Hey, Sadlygrove will believe anything I tell him. And the others aren’t the questioning type.” “I guess you’re right,” said Amalia. “Okay, we’ll go with your plan. Thanks, Eva.” “Any time,” said Evangelyne. She ran off to spread the word. Once she was alone, Amalia waddled over to a nearby tree, hands between her legs. She summoned some bushes behind her for additional privacy, then removed her skirt and underwear with trembling hands. Instead of squatting like Evangelyne, however, Amalia instead widened her stance and thrust out her hips. Making a V-sign with two of her fingers, she reached down and spread her labia. Her bladder relaxed and pee rushed out in a powerful torrent. The golden stream hit the trunk of the tree with a loud splash, sending droplets flying. Pee ran down the furrows of the bark, forming a foamy puddle on the soil below. Amalia sighed in relief as she continued to water the tree. Peeing standing up was an essential skill for any adventurer, male or female. Luckily, Amalia had mastered it early on. Her stream was still going strong, so she decided to have some fun. She widened her grip and thrust her hips even further, laughing as her pee sprayed the bark at nearly chest height. “Just as good as a boy!” the princess said with a grin. Eventually, her stream lost height as her bladder began to run dry. Amalia took a moment to admire the massive dark patch she had left on the tree, then produced some more leaves to wipe with. Once she had cleaned up, she ran off to rejoin the group, humming merrily at the massive pressure that had been lifted from her. “Well,” said Sadlygrove, “sounds like someone had a good time.” “Oh, you have no idea,” Amalia laughed. ---------------------
    4 points
  6. Chapter 7: Fit to burst. A loud ring filled the office, the telephone only connecting to one other just like it. The woman’s hand waivered over it for a moment, she knew who this was. “Hello sir” She answered. “Hello, I assume you know why I am phoning.” “Is it about my tests sir” “Yes... I might have given you free reign over that school to run as you see fit, but you can not just cancel classes to fulfil your own experiments.” “I understand sir, but if I may, you asked me to bring this establishment back to its former glory.” “I did and I understand why you are performing these tests. But it is my and the boards wish that you do not compromise on the academic side. We are an educational establishment after all.” “Yes sir I understand.” “Good, so classes will resume?” “Yes sir, I will arrange for them to start again.” “Good” He finished before quickly hanging up. Placing her phone back on the receiver she slammed her fist into the table in frustration. A knock on the door making her look up as her assistant walked into the room. “What is it!” “Mam, we have her.” “The last one? I thought there were 3 left?” “That was true yesterday morning, since then two more have finished the trial. Both record lengths and volumes for them and any other students.” “Good, what about the Iron house holder who lost it early. With the new data where does she finish.” “Despite losing it early, she was in the top 5 for volume” The woman said sliding across a portfolio to the desk. “Interesting” picking up the portfolio the woman in the high back chair began browsing it. “Do you think she could hold more if given more time to acclimatise to her hold?” “I do mam, in fact I think the signs are she could be one of the top 3 students.” “Interesting” she said again. “Do you want me to keep monitoring them throughout the year?” “Yes, I think we should keep a close eye on them. They are some of the best I have ever seen.” “What about the remaining participant?” “I’ll handle her personally.” Standing in the kitchen the following morning Eloise found herself alone despite not getting up particularly early. The silent house barely creaking as if the structure itself was aware of the fragile heads its occupants must have. After returning with more beer the drinking had seemingly intensified, with a few drunken comments being made about Kays accident. Most of it had been cleared up by the two of them by the time they had walked through the door. But the mop and bucket, kays flat stomach and her completely drenched clothes cluing in the others instantly. Her wet clothes joining Allies and summers in a pile next to the washing machine. The previous load Julia had put in with her own pee stained clothes still going around, the chain of accidents her household had suffered backing up the machine loads. The best holders in the university succumbing to the most basic of needs slowly but surely. Now there was just one, Vanessa was the final one of them maintaining dominion on her bladder. But judging by her frantic display last night Eloise wasn’t sure how much longer even the iron bladdered athlete could manage. But to her surprise it was Vanessa that woke first, and even more surprising was what she was wearing. Walking into the kitchen it was Vanessas bloated bladder that came into vision first, the hulking mass passing through the doorframe before any other part of her housemate. Its quivering form now ruthlessly confined within an extremely tight pair of leggings, the elasticated material going white in some areas as the pink pigment was being pulled apart. A similar tank top barely fit over the top of her bladder, somehow pushing up her breasts even further as the already supportive material was pushed further up by her expanded abdomen. “Morn…Morning” Vanessa groaned, outstretching her hand to the tap and steadying herself for a moment before filling up her water bottle. “Mu, Morning” Eloise stuttered, watching Vanessas legs jiggle beneath her as the rush of the water came from the tap. Her face flustered and already sweating profusely, her skin shinny and pale. “Are you going for a run?” Eloise asked incredulously. “Yep” Vanessa added, grimacing as she wrenched the tap closed. Hoping that she could just do the same with her own bladder. Eloise could feel her throat going dry, how could she possibly survive her run. She looked and sounded about ready to explode, although she had sounded that for over two days. Perhaps her bladder was limitless? “You got plans?” “Oh, I still need to take some photos for the society.” Eloise replied. She had been meaning to head out early this morning to get some silhouettes in the morning sunrise. But lasts night party and the now empty bottle of brandy had seen that idea off. “You should go up on Lindon’s Hill, just behind the shopping area. Get some good views up there.” Vanessa suggested. “Sure, thanks!” Eloise said. “You heading out now?” “Yes.” “Cool, well I guess I will join you. At least for the first 100 meters.” Eloise said grabbing her bag that she had under the table. “I…ok” Vanessa said slightly nervously. Leaving the house they quicky said their goodbyes as Vanessa put in her earphones and began to slowly and laboured jog up the road. Each footfall causing her to groan loudly and make Eloise wonder why she was torturing herself like this. The enormity of the task at hand, each footfall shaking her bladder visibly. She could barely think of what horrible pains and pulses were racing around Vanessa now. Unable to look away she watched the pregnant looking woman awkwardly jog up the hill, huffing and puffing as she went. The ordinarily athletic and sprightly woman taking her time and moving at a similar pace to Eloise who watched on with interest. Almost walking into the road to maximise her time viewing her desperate friend. Walking to the hill Vanessa had suggested she tried to shake the thoughts and visions of Vanessa losing control in her running gear from her mind. But it seemed that no matter how hard she tried, the last few days had completely destroyed her ability to concentrate on anything else. Even as she snapped shot after shot around the campus, she found herself trying to find a way of intercepting Vanessa to spend more time together. Her friends run usually taking about an hour and going past the coffee shop on her way home. Would she stop for one even in her current condition, if she did she wanted to be there. Reaching the courtyard, she began to photograph the goings on of university life while keeping an eye open for her friend. After an hour and 20 minutes she was starting to give up hope, the desperate woman clearly too smart and full to add a coffee to the litres of consumed liquid. But then, just as she was giving up home a slow-moving Vanessa rounded the corner of one of the buildings. Her hand resting on her giant bladder as she walked towards her. Giving a friendly wave she got a half-hearted one from Vanessa who really seemed to be suffering now. The run clearly not a good idea, although she had thought that before the heavily ladened woman took off. “Hey, I’m just about done. Want a coffee?” Eloise offered. “ooh, I…” Vanessa panted, her bladder heaving where she stood. “I’m buying don’t worry. I owe you after that tip about the hill, it really is lovely up there.” “I…sure” the darkhaired woman smiled, her lips quivering slightly as she accepted the offer of a coffee despite knowing all too well it was a bad idea. Trying to contain her own excitement Eloise opened the door following Vanessa in. Walking in she was for some reason expecting to see Summer behind the counter, despite the fact she knew that she wasn’t working today. “What do you fancy?” “I’ll just have an Americano” “Sure thing.” Eloise said cheerily as she walked up to order. “Hi can I have two Americano’s please”. She wasn’t a coffee drinker but she could feel the tiredness for last night still taking its toll so maybe this would help. “Sure thing, are they to go?” The yong woman behind the counter asked. “Yes please.” “What size do you want, we have an offer on at the moment where a Venti is the same price as the tall.” Eloise knew she should say no, she knew it was the right thing to do. But at the same time there it was, the voice in the back of her head telling her to do it. After all Vanessa could choose not to drink it all if she wanted, all she was doing was buying her friend a gift. How much of that gift she used was up to her. “Sure thing, can I get an extra shot in each in that case.” Eloise said, the voice winning out. Walking back over a few moments later she could already see the trepidation on Vanessas face as she saw the size of her coffee. “We were lucky, they had a promotion on.” Eloise said handing her the coffee. “Um…thanks” Vanessa smiled weakly as she sipped her coffee to show her appreciation. The walk back to the house was pretty slow, now with one hand holding her coffee Vanessa was forced to move more slowly, her laboured steps more awkward and conscious decisions. The movement that comes unconsciously to everyone past the ages of about 2 now like solving a riddle for her. Each step separating her legs and momentarily opening her defences, her muscles straining for control as she ordered them to perform the same movement over and over again as they walked slowly along. Approaching their house they could see two figures slowly walking towards them. It seemed like Zara and Summer had finally woken up. “Hey guys, we are heading out for some lunch. You two should totally join us!” Summer said enthusiastically, apparently fine despite the nights drinking. She had polished off far more bottles than Zara but it was the slim gymnast that looked to be the worse off for it. Her slightly bedraggled hair and dark rings under her eyes typical of a hangover. “Yeah sure that would be nice. Im sure you have worked up an appetite after your run.” Eloise said, taking charge of the situation and trying to give her a reason to spend more time with her again. “I….” Vanessa started. “Where are you going?” Eloise asked “Just to the dog and bone for some greasy food to fight this hangover.” Zara said groggily. “Sure sounds good.” Eloise answered and soon the group were moving off together, vanessa just a pace behind them as she did her best to follow at the same pace. “No outside drinks sorry.” The man behind the counter said as they walked in. Elloise and Vanessa still holding their coffee cups. “Sorry” Eloise said, finishing off hers and holding out a hand for Vanessas. Expecting her to hand it over so they could put them in the bin. But it seemed Vanessa still had some reserves of confidence as she drained the last few mouthfuls and then handed Eloise an empty cup. Chucking them in the nearby bin the found themselves a large table, Vanessa groaning loudly as she sat. A number of the other patrons looking at her as she did so, her restrictive running clothes now cutting even deeper into her flesh and applying more pressure as she bent over in her seat. The absolutely massive bulge pressing into the table from the unmoving benches present in the booth they had chosen. Her bladder now so large the ordinarily thin woman barely fit into the pubs seating. “I’ll order if everyone knows what they want?” “Cooked breakfast, large.” Zara said, gently resting the cold glass vinegar bottle against her temple. “Same” Eloise added, she wasn’t too hungry but she had always loved it when her dad had made them back home. “Sounds good” Vanessa said breathlessly, her nostrils flaring as she breathed heavily even when sat down. “That makes it easier, any drinks?” Summer asked, standing up and taking a note of the table number. Eloise shook her head, the tea it came with more than enough for her, while the others opted for a large orange juice each. Remarkably quickly the table was covered in the three meat and one vegan breakfasts. The large plates surrounded by four large pots of tea and 3 orange juices. Vanessas face a picture of concern as the tea was unloaded, apparently, she had forgotten about them when she had placed the order for another drink and was regretting it. Due to the night of drinking it seemed Summer and Zara really had just come out to eat. Neither of them wasting a second before digging into their mountains of food. Conversation put on hold as everyone ate at surprising speed. Except for Vanessa who had started out using both hands but had to quickly abandon that plan. Instead her left hand was pressing deeply into her crotch while she used her fork in her right. Turning it on its side to cut through her food instead of using the knife and releasing her grip on her crotch. Soft moans constantly escaping her mouth as she sat there, writhing with desperation. The pot of hot tea and pint of orange juice looking like they were going down as nails. The liquid flowing into her already at capacity body with a grimace and flinch with each mouthful. Soon the plates were empty once again, the remnants of beans and tomato sauce mopped up with the slices of toast as they all sat back satisfied. It seemed that even for a moment Vanessa had forgotten her need slightly, leaning back but yelping as she accidently pushed her bladder upwards and into one of the sharp edges of the table struts. Both hands instantly flying between her legs as new external pain joined in with the bolts of it shooting through her insides. Knowing looks passed between the others as they all knew what she was feeling, many of them having gone through the same thing this week. Although none had lasted this long or looked anywhere as full, only Lucy had such a round bulge as Vanessa was sporting right now. “I think I need a lie down” Vanessa stuttered, the joke coming out as more of a plea for help. But the others could agree with her, the food sitting heavily in their stomachs and making even summer feel lethargic. But draining the last from their teapots the group made a move, Eloise quickly learning that she didn’t need to tip here unlike some of the other countries she had lived in. “Ughh, I think I will join you in that lie down.” Zara said, stretching as she kicked off her shoes arriving back at home. “What are you on about, we should probably leave soon.” Kay said, her head poking out of her room. “For what?” Eloise asked. “Don’t tell me you all forgot, it’s the back to the future marathon at the cinema.” Kay said, her arms folding across her chest. “Im sorry, im not sure im feeling up to it” Vanessa said, her lips pursing and swallowing hard. “No, no one is backing out, ive already got you all tickets since you all agreed!” She said, seemingly standing taller to be more authoritative. “But I…” Vanessa “Ah, ah, ah. Get your shoes, the rest of us are ready.” Feeling her bladder already filling after the mornings drinks Eloise knew she should use her toilet now. But with the rest of them standing outside her room in the coridoor she felt uncomfortably awkward in doing so. But even as she tried to put it to the back of her mind she couldn’t manage it. “I’ll be right back, need to put my stuff away.” She said, her cheeks blushing a little. Walking into her room she closed the door behind her, still worried they would be able to hear it. Looking around she grabbed the duvet off her bed and put it near the gap under the door, her paranoid mind taking over and hoping it would block some of the sound for some reason. Closing the second bathroom door behind her she was about to sit when she realised they might hear the stream hitting the water. Shivering slightly as her bare skin made contact with the cold toilet she positioned herself at and angle and did her best to release her stream in a controlled, slow and quiet manner. Her muscles burning slightly as she forced them to remain partially closed. But after a few seconds the seemed to get the idea and a surprisingly long stream left her for almost a minute, making her doubly glad she had decided to go now. “Alright guys, im ready to go” Eloise said happily, feeling much more relaxed and happy to see none of them seemed to have noticed anything. The line for the small theatre was massive, the weekends showings completely sold out to the students who had nothing better to do since classes were cancelled. Standing in line Eloise couldn’t keep her eyes of Vanessa as she visibly pulsed where she stood. Her upper torso dancing to unheard music as she crossed, uncrossed and crossed her legs again and again. 30 minutes later they had made it into the building, the group making small talk while they waited. But all eyes including Eloise’s and several of the bystanders were watching the obviously desperate woman in their group. “You get the tickets ill get the snacks”, Eloise offered, conscious of the time they had to get into the theatre before the film started. “Ill join you and help carry them.” Kay said with Allie following as well. “Everyone ok with coke?” Eloise asked as she turned towards the confectionary counters and getting nods of approval, she headed in. “How can I help?” The teenage girl behind the counter asked, looking already exhausted after the mid-day rush. “Yeah sure can I get 8…” Eloise said before realising that she hadn’t actually thought of what to get. Looking up she quickly browsed the stall, her eyes lighting up when she spotted the back to the future deal. “8 Back to the future combo’s” she finished, the woman totalling it up the bill and handing over the novelty Doc Brown collectable glasses. Next came the 8 large popcorn’s and then finally the 8 giant cups, each holding well over a liquid at 32 oz. “Don’t you think those are a little big?” Allie pointed out. “I mean its three films that’s like 6 hours right?” Eloise explained as she grabbed a couple of each of the combos, her arms full. “Good point, probably save us in the long run!” Allie and Kay agreed enthusiastically, grabbing the rest and carrying them back to the group. “These should see us through” Allie said half jokingly as she lumped the supplies into each of the others hands. “And here is yours” kay said as she pressed the extra-large drink into Vanessa’s hands, the colour seeming to fall out of her face as she accepted it. Her brain wavering and telling her to say something, but her mouth opened with no words escaping it. Her other hand that was between her legs forced to leave the warm recesses of her quivering crotch and grab the popcorn. Handing over their tickets the group sided into their row of seats, Vanessa grunting with each sideways step that caused her legs to separate more than they had in days. Taking her seat she let out a longer moan, her giant bladder troubling her greatly as it overflowed her body and now spilled onto her lap. The slightly angled seats amplifying her stature as they forced her to lean forwards slightly. Settling into their seats they had arrived just in time, the lights dimming and the first advert starting. It had been a while since Eloise had seen a movie in a theatre and she found herself far more excited than she had thought she would. Unable to stop smiling as the Universal pictures’ logo appeared, sipping from her drink she sat back and was ready to enjoy the film. 97 minutes later the lights came back up, the first film just as good as they had all remembered. There had been some films that watching them back hadn’t lived up to her childhood memories but this was not one of them. Grabbing the large drink she sipped from the straw, realising that as she only got air she had somehow finished it all. Although given the fact the large cups didn’t fit in the holders and she had been forced to hold it the entire film it was no surprise. But what was a surprise was that it appeared Vanessa and all of the others had too. The lights showing through the thin carboard and revealing a tiny amount left in each of the cups. The volume of liquid already filling her bladder quickly, she could only imagine the impact it must have been having on the still holding Vanessa given she was clearly already at her limit. “Oh man, I love that film!” Kay said excitedly, her love of movies really coming through as she seemed to be in her element. “But I think I might need a refill” she added, shaking her cup. “How have you eaten all the popcorn?” Summer joked, the sticky container resting on the ground now there was nothing in it to risk being kicked over. “What, I was hungry” Kay defended herself. “But it has made me really thirsty.” She said standing. Eloise knew this was her moment, the angel and devil in her minds battling over it once again as she contemplated getting Vanessa another of the large drinks. She was enthralled, fascinated by the sheer force of will and holding capabilities of her housemate. How could one personal hold so much, would she be able to hold anything close to her by the end of her time at university, how much more could Vanessa take? A million questions raced around her mind once again, but this time she could feel the devil winning as she strived to find an answer. Just as it had forced her hand and not told Lucy about her drink being dosed, the familiar feeling came over her, almost giddy with excitement. “They are free refills for the whole day. Why don’t we go and get everyone a refill before the next film starts in 10 minutes.” Eloise said, standing slightly to quickly. Grabbing the now empty cups from her friends she could see the reluctance in the eyes of Vanessa, she could clearly handle no more. She was full, completely and absolutely full, and yet with a shaky hand she held up her cup to be refilled. Unable to refuse the drink for her pride, confidence or some other reason. But as Eloise replaced it a few minutes later with another full cup both knew this could be the end for her. The quiet moans and pulsing of her body now constant and torturous for the sweating woman. The only saving grace in the warm theatre the fact she was still wearing her tight spandex but moisture wicking clothes. They had gotten more than a few looks from people in the lobby, many in their back to the future costumes. But it was unsurprising given how she was acting, thankfully her moans and whimpers didn’t seem to be distracting those around them. However, it was not Vanessa’s bladder troubles that were starting to worry Eloise as the second film started. It was her own, even in the short time since the movie had ended her need seemed to be going up at a breakneck pace. The large caffeinated drink flowing through her stomach and filling her bladder at a worrying pace. By the halfway point she couldn’t help but jostle her tightly crossed legs as the pressure within her bladder increased in leaps and bounds, the second large drink half finished and now sitting on the floor as to not tempt her. Glad for the dark surrounding she pressed a hand between her legs, glad for the extra support but she was really starting to worry now. Digging her nails into the arm rest she felt her bladder cramp inside her, a combination of the fizzy drinks and sheer quantity increasing the discomfort she was feeling. While in other days she had been pushing herself, the desire to increase her capabilities of holding strong. As she eyed the half empty cup resting next to her fidgeting feet she already knew that she had drunk too much to be able to hold this amount. She had to pee, and she had to pee soon. Sitting their restlessly she tried to hold out for the end of the film, but 5 minutes was all it took for her desperation to go from an uncomfortable 8 to a desperate 9. The Coke surging into her bladder that now ached terribly. She couldn’t hold it, she had to get to a bathroom now! Standing gingerly she felt the weight of her bladder shift uncomfortably inside her, a spasm of her muscles causing her thighs to slam together as she felt her muscles tremble. Excusing herself she shuffled out, ignoring the weird looks from her friends. Slowly walking out into the lobby she could feel the seconds of control she had left slipping, making her increase her pace as the true urgency of the situation made itself known. Power walking she thrust a hand between her legs as she walked through campus towards her one salvation, the house. Red faced she couldn’t help but blush as she gripped herself through her trousers. Pausing for a moment she doubled over, waiting for the crossing to turn green and allow her to pass. Marching on the spot she contemplated just making a run for it, but thankfully she noticed it start to turn and the cars stopping. Their occupants watching her desperate dash across the road with renewed speed, almost running at this point as she felt her whole body shaking with need. Each step sending shockwaves through her bloated bladder, filled so tightly with coke. The method of her fascination with pushing Vanessa to her limits coming back to bite her, why did she have to drink so much as well! In a way she couldn’t help but feel she in some way deserved this, but she wasn’t about to give in now. Rounding the corner next to the house she felt her muscles give up for just a moment, stopping where she stood, she clenched all her muscles rhythmically. A deep burning sensation between her legs making her unsure if she had leaked or it was just her muscles. Either way she couldn’t just stand here, so once again she began but this time she did run. Half sprinting she could feel each layer of her defences peeling back like a high security vault, but she knew she was done for either way. Grabbing the door handle it clicked loudly as she barged it open, sliding on the mat she felt a distinct wetness between her legs for a just a moment. Throwing herself through her room she all but launched herself into the bathroom, her trousers around her ankles before she had even crossed the threshold of the small room. Pivoting in a half crouch she could already feel her body starting to release, but with not a moment to spare she landed safely on the toilet. A sudden burst of piss erupting out of her, the relief causing her toes to curl in her shoes as she moaned loudly. Her pent-up pee shooting noisily into the bowl as she breathed heavily, it had been close…to close. Looking down she could see a distinct wet patch on the crotch of her pink panties, she had made it but only by a matter of seconds. Luckily as she inspected her jeans it seemed they had remained dry, just about. Finishing her pee Eloise couldn’t help but sit there, relaxed and enjoying the sensation of being empty. But at the same time, her mind went back to Vanessa and imagining what she must be going through. Taking off her shoes she quickly undressed, changing her damp underwear that she ashamedly balled up and threw in the bottom of her laundry hamper. Grabbing a new pair she vouched not to let it get to that state again and began to make her way back up to the cinema, hoping to be back in time for the third film. Sliding back into their row of seats she had arrived at the interval, the lights were back up and she could see the room. While it made getting to her seat easier it did mean it was all but impossible to sneak back to her seat. “Everything alright?” Summer asked, as she stood to let her past. “Yeah sorry, forgot my mum was going to call me.” Eloise lied, hoping her blushing cheeks were not a dead give away. But it seemed that she had accepted the explanation as she continued moving down the line. Sighing as she sat back in her chair she certainly felt much more relaxed, the dance with her accident tiring her out a surprising amount. But hearing a loud groan from her left a shot of adrenaline seemed to surge through her body as she looked over towards Vanessa expectantly. “You ok?” Allie asked, the last deep groan sounding far more desperate than the last. “I…think I might head back guys.” Vanessa said, her eyes fluttering a little. “Come on its just one more film.” Kay said indignantly. “Im just a little hungry” Vanessa said, smiling awkwardly. “Why don’t we go out as a house for dinner afterwards? That pub we went too had some nice looking options.” Zara suggested. Vanessa looked at the others for a moment, the torment of more holding clearly playing on her mind. She was stuck between a rock and a wet place at this point, pursing her lips she nodded reluctantly. “But I am going to get a refill of popcorn, I’ll go get us all some more drinks too.” Allie said, standing and waving Kay to come with her to help. “Pass your cups down.” Kay said, holding out her hand. “Its ok, I still have some of mine since I left” Eloise said, happy to be out of another round of the giant drinks. “Ok, Vanessa?” Kay said looking at the woman next to her. “I….” Vanessa said breathlessly as she tried to come up with an excuse. “Oh never mind, its right here.” Kay said, picking up the empty cup from next to Vanessas pretzeled legs. “Be right back.” Throughout the next film Eloise could hear something over the loud base filled audio coming from the speakers. An insistent heavy breathing from her left intermingled with increasingly frequent groans was a little distracting to say the least. Unable to focus on the film she was constantly stealing glances at her housemate as the battle within Vanessa seemed to intensify. The once again empty drink laying on its side but allowing one of her hands to grip between her legs as the other held onto the seat ahead of her. Unlike everyone else that was relaxed and leaning back it seemed she had chosen to lean forwards, her hand bracing herself against the row Infront as she pulsed, rocked and bobbed in her seat. But despite her outward appearance she held on, making it through the third film. “Man I love those films.” Kay said, stretching her arms wide before standing. “Guys…I…Don’t think I can do this.” Vanessa said, her voice surprisingly calm but her eyes full of panic. “What do you mean?” Allie asked. “I cant, hold it” Vanessa whimpered, her voice cracking this time. “Yes you can!” Zara said supportively. “You are the last one left, probably in the whole university!” Kay replied. “But…” Vanessa breathed heavily, wincing as pain raced through her body. “You are the strongest person I know. You can do this!” “I….” Vanessa said again, her body convulsing slightly. “Holy shit guys!” Lucy said from behind them, her eyes glued to her phone that she had just turned back on. “Classes are back on tomorrow!” She said, looking up at them all. “Wait, that means you can totally do it Vanessa.” Summer said “Its just a little longer. Come on, you can beat this.” Kay added. “Tomorrow…Tomorrow…Just a bit longer” Vanessa panted, her wavering hand outstretching and legs helping her stand. A loud grunt reverberating from her chest as she forced her muscles to obey her. A new fire in her eyes as she could finally see the finish line! That night Eloise was once again unable to sleep, tossing and turning as Vanessas grunts and pacing footsteps above her made their way through the silent house and into her mind. The desperate woman clearly unable to sleep as she battled with her body. Eloise had been worried about missing out on her final hours, but it seemed that only U-Block had been deemed safe. This had lead to a number of room shortages and timetabling conflicts, so much to her surprise and happiness she, Vanessa, Summer and Julia would all share their first class together in the morning. Giving her the perfect reason to go up to the University with them all. Turning over again she heard her alarm go off, was it morning already! She hadn’t slept a wink, but felt more awake and alert than she had in days. “How are you doing?” Eloise asked as she walked into the kitchen, spotting the even more desperate looking woman writhing in the kitchen. Her easily pregnant looking stomach full of so much liquid it bulged preposterously. The unreal looking bulge formed of days of liquid and held back by the shredded remains of her self control. “I…I….I…cant do this” Vanessa stammers, her body quaking in desperation. “Come on, you can do it. Its just a little longer, you have held out so long. You have beaten everyone else you can survive this!” “I…I’ve never had to go this bad in my life. I don’t even know what is happening any more. I…I just cant anymore!” she all but yelled in the room. “We can go in early, you just need to hold it like 30 more minutes. Just think about it, the only one to survive the outage!” But looking at her she could see why she was so demanding that she could hold it not one moment more. Her giant bulging body was quivering with every second as her inflated bladder continued stretching her to its absolute limits and clearly driving her mad with desperation. “Mmmmmm” Vanessa moaned, her hands all but rubbing against her private areas as she continued to groan, the gaps between the pulses spasms and shockwaves it was sending and had been sending for days at this point now measured in seconds not minutes. “You guys ready for the first day of a new year?” Julia asked cheerfully as she entered the room. Pouring out a dozen energy drink cans from her bag after a late night study session last night. Refilling her water bottle Eloise couldn’t help but notice that even she had a slight bulge in her abdomen. Not a shock given the quantity of cans she had been drinking and thinking about it most of them had gone several days since their accidents. Maybe it wouldn’t be just Vanessa making a made dash for the ladies room after all. As if on cue they were joined by Summer, dressed in a tight white summer dress and knee-high socks she looked more ready for a day in the sun than a lecture. But she too had a noticeable bulge, her legs gently resting against each other as she stood near the doorway. But none of them compared to Vanessa. “Ok im ready!” She said, still looking a little tired. “I can do this.” Vanessa grunted “But we have to go now, im ab..about…to piss myself.” She stuttered as she visibly winced while standing. Air hissing out between her clenched teeth as she heaved herself into the air, a hand pressing into her back. Grabbing their things the group hastily made their way up to the university, Vanessa managing an impressive turn of speed given her condition. A speed that only seemed to increase the closer they got, grabbing the handles to the uni rooms she was relieved to see them open. The keypad light turning green as she wrenched the doors open, with no other thought than finding the toilets. “Ah, you three, four. Just the people I was looking for.” “Mrs Johnson!” Julia said surprised as they came face to face with their school master. “Would you mind coming with me.” The smartly dressed woman said, the sentence more of a command that a question. Looking around Eloise could see Vanessa die a little inside as her relief was delayed yet again. Walking into the office it had been transformed from the shady dim room it was before into a bright and almost welcoming old space. “Please, take a seat.” Mrs Johnson said, the group filing in and grabbing one of the wooden chairs situated in front of the desk. “I have something I meant to ask you all, but thought it would be better to do it in person. But first, where are my manners.” She said, walking over and grabbing a steaming tea pot from the small table to their left. Placing it on the desk she began to pour four small cups of the liquid and handing them out. “So it is tradition for us to hold an annual industry meet and greet with last years graduates each year. It gives the top students that have left us a chance to talk and mingle with some of the best and most influential people in our sector. But this year we have decided to include you three, sorry four as added guests. You have all proven yourselves extremely capable and would like you to represent our current students at the event if you wouldn’t mind.” “That would be amazing!” Julia said excitedly before checking herself. “Sorry, I mean it would be a privilege” she replied while taking a sip from her tea. Eloise couldn’t help but feel a little like a fourth wheel here by circumstance rather than merit, but it would certainly be a good learning experience. Sipping her tea she had to bite her tongue slightly to stop herself reacting. The black tea far more bitter than she was use to, yet it was a familiar bitterness that she couldn’t quite place. “But what about classes?” Summer asked, herself seemingly enjoying the strong herbal blend of whatever was in the tea pot and drinking It happily. “Oh no worries there, its not scheduled until this afternoon. I will have a car ready to take you to the event once your lessons are over.” She said smiling, refilling Summers cup which she had emptied. “What do we need to do?” Julia asked. “Oh nothing really. Simply go there speak to people and see if anything piques your interest. Its as much for you as it is the university, its good for us to get our students out there and have a presence in the biggest companies. Several of our best graduates have been hired soon after these events so it’s a good opportunity to make a good impression for yourself and the university. There is a panel with our alumni that I would like you to take part in though, simply a Q and A sort of thing, assuming you want too?” “Yes!” Julia jumped at the chance. The others simply nodding. “Sure thing, now Eloise I know you are just a first year. But I thought it would be good to send along a new student to see what you thought about it. But it could be a good experience for you too, see what areas of the industry you might want to go into for example.” “Yes mam” Eloise nodded. “Good, now I did just want to go through a couple of things so that we are all one the same page.” 20 long minutes later they had all been briefed by her about the school and what to say at certain topics. The friendly good for you atmosphere replaced by a serious and important one of them having a job to do. It seemed there was a lot riding on this event, for Mrs Johnson and the university in general. “Right then, I better let you get to class. I will make sure that the car is ready to pick you up once your classes have finished. Please make sure to be ready, punctuality is always important at these events and I don’t want them to have to wait for our students.” She finished, standing and indicating for them to do the same. Groaning as she stood Mrs Johnson looked at Vanessa wearily. “Everything ok Vanessa?” “Yes mam” She said breathlessly, a forced smile appearing on her flushed face. “Good, now enjoy your first class.” Walking down the corridor they hurried along, their class starting in just one minute. A longing and desperate look towards the ladies’ room from Vanessa showing she was more than contemplating dashing in, but panting slightly she forced her legs to carry on past it and into the lecture room. Maybe they would have a break, or she could find some other way of excusing herself. The large room itself was filled with a couple of hundred students, many grouped together already. Finding unoccupied chairs, the housemates grabbed a number of desks near the back of the room. The young-looking lecturer at the front currently shuffling some papers on the front desk before clearing her throat and starting the session. They had arrived without a moment to spare, not that Vanessa seemed to be happy about her own punctuality. “ladies, welcome back to my classes or hello for the first time.” The Lecturer smiled, her teeth perfect and shinning as she warmly welcomed them. “Now, I thought it would be fun to start the year with a little practical. It will also have some down time so you can get to know some of the newer students” she said, her hand indicating to the number of first years. “Thank god.” Vanessa muttered quietly beside Eloise. Her crossed legs going back to jigging furiously beneath the desks, something she had been fighting herself from doing in the dean’s office. “So, some theory before the fun. In 2011 a scientist from the Netherlands linked the fullness of one’s bladder to the ability to make better rational decisions. A thought that is largely at odds with how many of us feel when we have a strong urge, you would expect the irritability to cause bad choices. But in their studies, they found that people already suppressing an impulse, the impulse to pee, were fundamentally better at making other choices where impulse was important. The outcome of their research suggesting that the areas of the brain needed to resolve one could be linked to the other. “Oh god…” Vanessa said softly, her brain already seeing where this “practical” was going. “So, today we are going to do something similar. We are going to test the impacts of a full bladder on academic test scores. These general science tests will also serve as a starting grade for your year with me so its not just a case of not trying. I expect you all to do your best, but due to the nature of these examinations you will not be able to leave the room until both sets are complete.” “Oh God!” Vanessa whimpered again, her voice far shaky as she was once again delayed but this time in the worst possible way. Her hold increasing in length substantially at this point, the mere seconds away she had been twice already taunting her mind. Biting her lip her legs went into overdrive, the vibrations shaking the desk Eloise was sharing with her. “Now, because we have several years all in one class room we are going to have to modify the tests according to each of your bladder holding capabilities. It would be unfair to give the first years enough to make a dent in a third year, and not really worth it to do the opposite. As such, First years will be given 2 litres, second years 3.5L and 5L for third years. You will have two hours to drink the isotopically balanced drink during the first test. This will be followed by a 30-minute break for first years, an hour for second years and two hours for you third years. Then you will carry out the second two-hour test. You will be free to go once you complete the second test, but until then you must remain in the room. Even Eloise’s eyes went wide as she explained everything, they sure were not easing people into it. She would have to down 2 litres and hold it for Four and a half hours! Could she do that, but more importantly could Vanessa hold 5 more litres. The sweating and panting third year about to be truly pushed far, far beyond her limits. Less than four hours later Eloise hobbled out of the room, her legs and muscles quivering as she fought for control. It had been humiliating to be the first of them to leave, she couldn’t even remember the last few questions from the test that she had blitzed through. Despite trying to measure their ability to do tasks while desperate, she just couldn’t hold on any longer and as bad as it had been to walk out like this, it was better than the alternative. Her underwear was already damp for the second time in as many days, standing up and the walking to the front too much for her muscles. She hadn’t considered herself to be a leaker, but if recent events were anything to go on she might have to start worrying about it. Urging herself forwards she found her way into the ladies room, silently glad to be the first out so there wasn’t a que. Opening the stall she breathed a sigh of relief as she let the ocean inside her empty out into the toilet below her. What was she going to do at the end of term if this was as much as she could hold. Would she be forced to take the remedial classes that Allie had talked about? Finding a seat in the hall she got out her phone, trying to find something to pass the time until her friends were out. The group of super holders surely able to keep control of themselves of their test scores. But worrying for Eloise as she watched the last of the first years desperately scurry for the bathroom after finishing their tests properly, she could already feel her own bladder filling considerably again. Something that happened a further two times over the next two and a half hours, what had she done to herself. Was it something to do with her holding too much, maybe it was something to do with the Isotonic drink they had just forced her to drink. Either way as she peed for the third time that morning, she couldn’t help but feel a little worried for her future at this university if this was what the first day was like. Taking her seat back in the hall Eloise sank into the uncomfortably hard chair and waited for the others. She didn’t have to wait long, the third years all walking out together after finishing their test with no real effort for most of them. But as she looked towards her friends it was a totally different story, each of them looked incredibly uncomfortable as their bladders once again bulged out of their skin. The five litres and days without relief pushing them all back to the bitter edge of control once again. But none of them compared even slightly to the state of Vanessa. Her enormous bladder so full it was barely recognisable as one, jutting out of her far more than anyone’s should do. The hemline of her leggings now below the ocean of pee inside her, compressed beneath the mass of liquid which hung over them precariously. “Ladies Where have you been?” Dean Johnson said as she hurried down the corridor towards them, her heels loudly clacking off the surface “The event starts in an hour, you need to get going now otherwise you will be late.” “B, But…” Vanessa pleaded, the others looking on nervously both for their friend and their own clearly full bladders. The bathroom just a few feet away, but a long que forming out of the door as another class of first years had finished up just before they had emerged. There was no way they could make it to the event in time if they waited, but would they even make it to the event without exploding? “The journey takes about an hour, im not even sure if you will make it on time if you leave right now. Better not keep them waiting any longer you cant afford to be late.” The dean reaffirmed again as as almost physically pushed the group towards the exit next to her office. The side door offering good access to the staff parking where a large black car was waiting for them. Bundling in all three of them let out varying degrees of groans as they sat. A loud cracking noise sounding in the car as the elastic of Vanessas leggings finally gave up the ghost and disintegrated around her giant bladder. The ordinarily strong material torn to tatters by her expanded abdomen and the pressure it was generating. Despite only taking an hour to get to the event, Eloise had begun to fidget in the back of the car as she joined the others in needing the use of a bathroom once again. The fact worrying her greatly, she knew she had drunk a lot in the lesson but surely it had all come out now? Had she waited too long, had she damaged something by trying to hold too much too soon at the cinema yesterday? Stepping out of the car she blinked in the sunlight, her thighs rubbing together for a few moments before she started towards the large white brick building that lay ahead of them. The large hall surrounded by a number of expensive cars and people milling around. Large signs advertised the many products and services that those in attendance today offered, some of the largest brands in the world were here! “Right this way please” A young woman with a clip board said to their side. “The talk is about to begin I’m afraid we are already a couple of minutes behind schedule.” Looking at each other for a moment they followed the ponytailed woman inside the building, being led to a large double door as they all tried to put their desperation to the back of their minds. It was supposed to be a two hour talk and Eloise was quickly starting to worry about having to admit her need in a packed room full of experts on the matter. Her classmates and fellow students had been one thing but this would be something else. “I’m sorry, it’s just those three.” She said, holding up a hand to stop Eloise. “What?” Eloise asked confused. “I’m afraid its Miss Vanessa, Julia and Summer that have been asked to take part as final year students. You will have to take a seat in the auditorium, just head down their and through those doors on the left.” The woman said. “Oh, ok” Eloise said slightly dejectedly. “Hey, we will see you after.” Summer said smiling at her, the blonde’s legs shifting where she stood. “Sure thing.” Eloise smiled back, leaving the three of them too it and taking a seat near the rear of the auditorium just as the talk began. The talk itself was actually quite interesting, the various alumni talking about their graduate placements and how they got into the industry. But Eloise could tell many were watching her three friends at the end of the line of students. Summer and Julia clearly embarrassed and red faced while they tried and failed to control their squirming. Strangely it was Vanessa who seemed in the most control as she sat there looking like a blimp, her face sweating and wincing as her bloated and bulging body twitched. Her tormented bladder sending signal after signal for more than a week to empty itself, but still the deathly proud or stubborn owner of it held on and other than the gentle rocking of her body she was still. Although she was clearly struggling as she stared off at a point on the horizon, completely not registering anything that was going on around her. Thankfully it seemed the questions were aimed at the three of them in general and as such the other two fielded most of the questions. But that became more of an issue as time wore on, entering the second hour is was clear that Julia and Summer were struggling more and more. Summers crossed legs bouncing as she gently placed her hands folded on her lap. Her deep Blue eyes and pink metallic painted lips quivering in unison a she bit them, her beaming white teeth now covered in pinkish marks from her lipstick. Sweat forming on her and Julia’s forehead as they tried to remain composed as the pressure within them mounted. In the crowd a similar sensation was filling Eloise with dread, her own bladder filling once more although thankfully slower this time. Even so, with 10 minutes to go she was once again forced to excuse herself. It wasn’t as bad as it had been in the lecture, but if she had done something to herself she knew she had to be smart and start taking any and all opportunities to save her graces. Sneaking out from the back of the large room she made her way to the ladies’ room the others had spotted before. Entering a cubicle, she sat and let her body relax once more, yawning as the lack of sleep took its tool on her. Smacking her lips she tasted the weirdly familiar bitter tea, but as she sat there her brain finally connected the two memories. It was the beer! The diuretic ladened beer she had drunk almost two weeks ago and that had spelt disaster for Lucy, the first of them to loose it so long ago. But wait, that couldn’t be right could it? Surely the dean wasn’t dosing her students with potent diuretics? But it would explain how she had felt today, the repeated bathroom trips after the tea and litres of water. The only question remaining was why, why would she do it. Finishing up and still confused by the revelation Eloise made her way to the corridor, seeing that the talk was finally ending. Going back to the door she had been turned away from she waited for her friends to emerge. Should she tell them, but what if she was wrong. There really wasn’t much to go on. The door in front of them opened, a member of staff holding it open for the guests. Grunting and clutching herself Vanessa waddled out of the room, Eloise had thought it impossible for her to look any bigger and yet every time she looked it seemed as if the poor woman had grown even more. Her bladder inflating like a water balloon, possibly due to the effects of the diuretic that had broken their friend more than a week earlier. “Toilet, Toilet, Toilet, Toilet” Summer muttered loudly as she almost raced past Vanessa, heading directly towards the ladies room. A slow moving Julia holding herself but following in the same direction as they sought their much needed relief. “Well, I think that went well. Don’t you think.” A familiar voice sounded behind them. The dean of their University coming out of one of the audience doors. She must have snuck in unnoticed near the end. “Yes mam” Julia said, pressing her legs together tightly and trying to put on a professional demeanour. “Im sorry, I…” Summer started “I’ve got some people I would like you to meet” Mrs Johnson said ignoring the pleas of Summer and the obvious shows of absolute desperation all three were putting on. “I…” Summer tried again. “Right this way, they are the leads on the Darrius project that…Aren’t you coming?” She asked clearly annoyed. “Bu…hu…hu” Vanessa stammered, her eyes fluttering and going into the back of her head for a moment. Her entire body shaking as she stood there, half stooped as her absolutely enormous bladder forced her to stand with an unnatural stance. Taking another longing look at the bathroom and then back at the unimpressed dean of her University she shook again before turning to follow. “I…” Summer said, her tone of voice several octaves higher as she pitched one thigh into the other before relenting and following. Her knees knocking as she walked and causing her white skirt to flutter. “These are Kim and Tony” she said indicating to a pair of casually dressed twins, the two women smiling at them. “I would like to introduce some of our top students” She said the two groups exchanging awkward handshakes. As they talked Eloise could see Summers nervous glances towards the bathroom, her knees continuing to hit into each other as she stood still, trying her best to listen to the apparently important women. Vanessa however could not have looked more zoned out, her matted hair sticking to her sweaty face as she continued to groan quietly, swallowing hard and teetering slightly where she stood. Her condition getting more than a fair share of concerned glances from the pair of women she was being introduced too. Yet they said and did nothing to help her. Julia was doing most of the talking, her stocking clad legs gently rasping against each other, the noise of the nylon just audible over the idle chit chat going on in the room. “Anyway, we need to go and find Thomas Elder. We said we would meet up with him after.” The pair of women said as if they all knew him, taking a last glance at Vanessa the pair departed. As soon as their backs were turned the three desperate women all took a step towards the bathroom before they were cut off once again. Fate cruelly playing them off against relief and professional and academic standings. “Who else can I introduce you too.” Mrs Johnson considered for a moment, glancing around the room. “I think” “I need” Julia and Summer spoke up at the same time. Desperate to find a way of the situation without offending their school dean. “Ah Julian, I would like you to meet some of our top students.” Mrs Johnson said, ignoring their plight once again. “Mrs Johnson” Summer whimpered, her own movements stopping as she clenched her muscles tightly. Her hands turning into tight fists by her sides as she grimaced, almost pulsing where she stood. “Right then Summer, Julia, Vanessa. I would like you too….” “Uhhhhh!” A shout filled the room, cutting the deans introductions off moments before a loud splattering noise erupted from beneath Summer as she doubled over in pain. Beside Eloise a waterfall of piss was falling between summers slender legs, her white knee-high socks instantly wet and turning slightly yellow. Pee racing down her thighs, spiralling down her now still legs, rivulets forking off in many directions as the forceful spray continued. More streams fell from her supple skin, flushed red by the constant movement throughout the last hour as she had tried to fight this. But here Summer stood, meters from a bathroom uncontrollably wetting herself while surrounded by some of the most important people in her industry. “Im sorry” She sobbed at the dean of her school who looked on gobsmacked. Her mouth hanging open but eyes strangely sparkling as Eloise looked into them. Her fascination with what was going on in front of her matched by the dean and all but confirming her thoughts about the diuretic she had given to them all. “I…”the Dean stuttered. “Im sorry, I didn’t realise.” She tried to lie. The downpour between Summers legs capturing her attention as she watched on, summers hands covering her face as she continued to shake. Her inflated bladder slowly receding as its contents were nosily spilled onto the floor beneath her. As the accident slowed down the Dean seemed to come to her senses, beckoning over the woman that had met them. Having a word in her ear it seemed they were having some sort of urgent conversation. “Im sorry girls, I will have you taken home now.” The dean announced. “But…” Julia started, her own legs bending and crossing as Summers accident expedited the desperation she felt. “The car will take you back to the university.” She said before turning around and leaving the four of them. Their guide ushering them out to the car park once more before they could protest. Julia’s neck craning round as she tried to get one last look at the toilets. But once again she and the others were bundled into the back of the car, the woman having a word with the driver before they set off back to the university. Sitting quietly the group of them simply stared out at the passing countryside. The groans and grunts of Vanessa somehow blending into the background. The uttered tones now so common place to hear over the last day or two that even Eloise was taking less notice of them. Opposite her Julia was staring out the window, her hand clutching the edge of her emerald skirt as her black stockings bounced up and down. Summer was clearly humiliated once more, the latest wetting in the middle of the event far worse than even the one in the gym. Resting her head against the headrest she was simply staring at the floor, her cheeks still red and tears forming in the corners of her eyes which she would occasionally wipe away. Looking out the window Eloise watched the scenery go by for some time, until she saw a sign for the nearby city. Why were they heading towards it, it was in the opposite direction to the University? Looking at her friends it seemed none of them had noticed, Vanessa and Julia to desperate while Summer was seemingly in her own head. “Where are we headed?” She asked the driver loudly, Julia and Summer looking up. “To the University” her replied “Isn’t it the other way?” Eloise asked. Taking a moment to press some buttons on the Satnav the driver was clearly checking something. “Im sorry, I must have put in the wrong address. I will take the next off ramp and correct” He said, but surely he would have had the correct code in considering he picked them up there. Didn’t he work for the university, how could he get it wrong she wondered. Checking her watch they had been driving for almost 45 minutes the wrong direction, turning their hour drive into two and a half if he found an off ramp soon. Opposite her Julia was biting her bottom lip, a look of dire concern on her face. Breathing rapidly through her nose only her legs moved faster, her legs running on the spot as her stockings rubbed against each other so fast Eloise was starting to worry about Julia starting a fire in the back of the car. “Oh god, oh god, oh no, no, no , no , no” She muttered constantly for the next 30 minutes as she sat there, ashen faced. Her display of desperation far more acted than when she had lost it in the library. Although in that case Julia had something to occupy her mind, while right now all she must have been thinking about was her need to pee. A fact that ultimately proved fatal as she went wide eyed, her head looking up and catching Eloise’s. “You have to stop the car” She said with some urgency. “Im sorry mam, we are on the motorway I cant just pull over.” The driver responded as Julia uncrossed and recrossed her legs even tighter for a moment. Her balled up fists pressing into her crotch as she wiggled in her seat. “But I…Oooohhhh” Julia whimpered, her face contorting into a look of discomfort as she screwed her eyes closed. “Mmm” Julia whimpered again, her legs pressing into each other even tighter on the leather seats. But it was no use, for the second time that week she was starting to wet herself. The noise of the engine and wheels covering up the faint hiss of her accident but sitting opposite her, it was impossible for Eloise to miss the river of clear liquid rolling down from her chair. A puddle spreading out in the back of the seat before rushing off the waterproof seats and pooling on the floor. As pee cascaded down from the leather seats the unmistakable smell of fresh urine filled the car as another of the group lost control of her bladder. But she was still fighting, Julia’s hands still pressing deeply in her crotch as she tried to stem the tide but it was no use, her frantic leg movements becoming slower and slower until they stopped completely. Her legs pressed together as her bladder continued to empty, her shoulders sagging and eyes looking down as she sobbed gently. She had lost control of her bladder once again, she was supposed to be one of the top holders and yet here she was, pissing herself in a car. The only positive was that she wasn’t alone, Summers clothes still drying from her own accident. Next to her Vanessa somehow seemed oblivious of what was going on, her desperate brain detached from all reality as it had been for most of the day. One hand gripping between her double-crossed legs, the other slowly rubbing her bladder in small circular motions that seemed to be barely touching her skin. Any and all additional pressure causing her excruciating pain, her skin pulled as taught as possible and threatening to pop at any moment. Where ever Vanessa had gone too, the plain of existence somehow let her maintain her control all the way back to the university. Her rounded bladder bulging even more monstrously as she managed to outhold two of the top bladders not once but twice, the volume of pee inside her incomprehensible. Opening the door the evening had turned dark, the sun just about setting behind the large campus building. Stepping out Eloise was surprised to see the Dean stood waiting for them, had she planned all this? “Im sorry about what happened earlier.” She said, her eyes glued to watching Vanessa get out of the car behind her. Not an easy task given her current predicament, a constant moan punctuated by heavy breathing escaping her as her whole body heaved up and down. Her eyes returning back to the present and going wide as if she truly had been having an outer body experience. “Please, follow me.” The dean said, walking back towards the door to her office they had come out of earlier. Sitting down in the chairs the stains and patterns of Julia’s and Summers wet clothes still visible despite them drying. The pair sullen but trying to be respectful as they sat in the office. Next to them Vanessa was even more of a mess than she had been in the morning, unable to hide her desperation at all now she had returned to her body. Whimpering softly she fidgeted madly, her knees bouncing as she double crossed her legs and supported her bloated bladder with her hands. “Now I wanted to apologise for what happened and make sure you know that it wont be held against you in anyway.” “I…thank you” Summer said, although she hadn’t thought it would be. “I think that despite it you all made a positive impression on the visitors and I think that…” “Please let me use the bathroom, I’ve never needed to go this badly in my life. I was about to explode 8 hours ago and since then I’ve drunk so much, I just cant.” Vanessa uttered at break neck speed, the urgency clear in her voice as she all but exploded on the spot. “Vanessa! I understand your position, but that is not how you should speak to me or how someone of your stature shouldn’t be talking. We pride ourselves on control at this university and the event tonight should have been reserved for just the graduates of other years. But given your track record I thought you would make the most of it but clearly, I was mistaken.” The dean shot back, surprised at the lack of decorum from her top student. “Im…Im sorry mam, but im about to wet myself in your office if you don’t let me go…please!” she begged with tears rolling down her cheeks. Finally, at her wits end she was truly begging for more than just her dignity, forks of pain wracking her body every second. The pulses increasing in ferocity as she kept her bladder shut away and forced to expand even more. “Well, I never” The dean replied. “Im so full” Vanessa reiterated, her bulging body creaking under the weight of her bladder’s contents. The fraying of her leggings not the only thing that was starting to be destroyed by it. “Vanessa, you are top of your class and have been since first year. I am sure that you can hold on long enough to finish this conversation.” The dean said calmly. Groaning loudly Vanessa plunged her fists between her legs, “Please!” she pleaded, her eyes watering as she locked her legs together in a death grip. “Fine, if you must.” The chancellor waved her away dismissively But it was already too late, Eloise had seen the first burst of wetness moments ago. She hadn’t been kidding when she said she was about to lose it and now as Vanessa groaned, her bladders contents exploded out of her with tremendous force. A torrent of liquid pushing past her clenched hands and spraying around them noisily in all directions. The deafening patter of her instantaneous and sudden loss of control sounding around the room like a tropical rainstorm as Vanessa let out another guttural yell. Her whole body shaking and quivering as if possessed, her bladder overwhelming everything else in her body as fireworks of conflicting signals erupted all over her abdomen. Her muscles still contracting and forcing themselves inwards while her crotch seemingly imploded in wetness. Thick streams erupted in all directions, the heavily pressurised streams falling almost a meter away from her in some cases as the others stood up to avoid being drenched in their friends monumental accident. Her mammoth bladder threatening to flood the room if it kept up. A river of steaming piss was running down both her legs at breakneck pace, her absolutely drenched leggings unable to stop any liquid having already absorbed as much as they could. Not a squire inch was spared as they darkened, her pee hissing loudly through them as it continued to erupt out of her at some pace. The force causing it to shoot through the crotch of her seemingly thick clothes, the barriers of her underwear and trousers no match for the pressure build-up that had been torturing the groaning woman for almost two weeks. Vanessa had pushed herself to the edge and then some, past any limits Eloise or anyone thought possible. 11 days of not skimping on drinking but including nights out, a full bladdered exam and seemingly a dose of some pretty strong diuretics if Eloise’s hunch was right. Putting her hands on the desk Vanessa groaned loudly again as she let her bladder hang freely beneath her, rivers of piss escaping from her in all directions and spreading for meters across the floor. Eloise couldn’t think of anything, her brain completely empty of anything but the images of the show being played out in front of her. The largest bladdered woman she had ever seen, or possibly there had ever been was still peeing fiercely in the dean’s office. A puddle of unfathomable size spreading out of her as the drum beat of her accident continued, backed up by a percussive hiss and vocal groans. Her bladder and abdominal muscles stretched to their limits and finally gaining control as they forced the ocean of pee she had been holding out of her. For almost five minutes the group watched in a silent awe of Vanessa's accident, almost the entire wooden floor was coated in her pee. It was by far the most anyone had ever seen anyone hold, even the dean was looking on with a faint impressed look. But as she looked up and caught Eloise watching her, her demeanour changed instantly. A scowl now on her face she crossed her arms, staring intently at the woman who had just drowned her office in piss. “Well then, we will continue this another time then. Now if you are quite finished I think you should leave my office.” She said, her toes splashing in the puddle that had run under her desk. “I…” Vanessa uttered, her mind filled with a tired and euphoric cloud. Silently the group left, unspeaking about what had just happened. But while they may never speak of it again, there was no way Eloise was going to forget what she had just seen. It was a sight that would visit her in her dreams over and over again, the first week at university more than meeting her expectations. Back in her office the dean stood with her arms crossed, looking down at the enormous puddle she let herself have a curt smile at her handywork. Flipping open her phone she quickly dialled in a number. “Well?” She said expectantly. “I…I have never…she broke your record Mam.” “She broke my record?” “Yes Mam.” The voice repeated. Smiling to herself the dean hung up. Taking a deep breath she picked up the red phone on her desk. The same one that she had been nervous to answer. “Chancellor, we’ve got them.” A moment of silence filled the room, before a soft murmur came through the other end of the phone. Yes sir, she broke my record. The summer internationals are ours this year.” Another murmur came through, seemingly impressed sounding. “Thank you sir, Yes I will keep you updated on their progress.” Hanging up the phone she sat back in her chair, relaxing and feeling happy as the contents of Vanessa's tortured bladder continued to spread around the room. She had done her job. The end...for now? ------------------------- Once again thank you to everyone who read, commented and upvoted this story, it really means a lot to know people are enjoying the story! Unfortunately this is the end for now. Since someone asked 😛 I do have some ideas about where I could take this story and even have half of another chapter written as a kind of Epilogue, it does answer a few of your questions / explain a bit more about how the school works / came to be the way it did. But I have been having a bit of trouble making it entertaining enough for its own chapter. But watch this space. The watch isn't magic although that is an interesting thought, simply far more intrusive than indicated by the dean. I have an explanation of why / how they came to be a thing in the afore mentioned unreleased chapter, so I wont explain here in case I manage to finish writing the next chapter. The dreams were more apparitions of the internal struggle between her enjoying it, doing the right thing and also trying to be "normal". But if its something you are interested in I have half a story written about something along those lines. Sadly while there is scope and some ideas floating around for a continuation, It probably wont be for a while. This story took me close to 3 months to write and release, and I haven't even started to fully flesh out the next parts if there will be some. But given by how well this seems to have gone down, I will definitely think about it. Although I have a steadily growing list of stories on my "to do" list. Including one that I started about 6 months ago but keep getting distracted from. So I might have a play with that one first.
    4 points
  7. View File Upsidedown Jeans Piss A girl attempts an upside down wetting with jeans and a red tank top on. Thankfully, it works, and she soaks her pants and shirt in the process. Submitter undercoverpeer Submitted 11/17/2020 Category Female  
    3 points
  8. Jason was another colleague of mine at the garden centre, an attractive guy around 30 years old, quite tall and muscular, with short dark hair and a beard, and he also had a few tattoos covering his arms. On this particular day he was covering the entire camping department on his own, and as it was a warm day he was wearing a navy blue uniform polo shirt, navy blue shorts and work boots. The camping department was one of the largest in the store as it had a huge indoor section as well as all the tents, which were mostly displayed outside close to the store entrance. It was a busy Saturday around the beginning of the summer season, so his department was even busier than usual, with lots of customers wanting to purchase tents and camping equipment in anticipation of going on holiday or to music festivals. He had come to the tills at around 9am to buy a large bottle of water from the cooler, and told us that he was expecting to be kept so busy that he wasn't sure when he'd be able to take his break! Throughout the day Jason was kept extremely busy as he expected, always talking to customers or showing them around the tents displayed outside. If anyone wanted to buy one of the larger, more expensive tents, he had to go and get the boxed-up tent from the storeroom (which was at the other end of the garden centre) himself, taking it through the tills and out to their car for them. He also kept having to answer calls on his work phone from colleagues, informing him about customers waiting in the camping department that needed help, or customers outside who were asking about the tents, so Jason was constantly kept on his feet. Around 1pm he came to the tills and grabbed another bottle of water from the cooler, looking quite hot and flustered as he quickly paid. 'Have you had a break yet Jase?' asked my supervisor Ellie, and he laughed and shook his head. 'Not yet! Could really do one to be honest, but there's customers waiting.' He said bye to us then hurried off outside, and I wondered whether he was starting to need to piss by now, as he had been quite fidgety at the till, not quite being able to stand still. During the afternoon the store was very busy, and I saw Jason a few times over the next couple of hours when he came to my till with customers buying expensive tents. I was sure he was now getting desperate to piss, as he seemed to be really struggling to stand still, looking red-faced and very uncomfortable. He seemed to be trying his best to stay professional and hide his situation, but a few times I noticed him stepping from foot to foot, gritting his teeth or adjusting his waistband. During a couple of sales later on in the afternoon, I'm sure I even caught him reaching down to squeeze himself through his shorts, though I couldn't be certain as he was standing behind the tent box. I wondered if he might even be using the box to hide what he was doing, taking the opportunity to give his cock a couple of firm, reassuring squeezes while his crotch was hidden from view for a few moments. Around 4pm, me and Ellie were told by our manager that we could take our afternoon break, so we walked over to the staff breakroom together. On the way, we walked past the display tents and saw Jason talking to a young woman, showing her around some of the larger tents. He had obviously still not been able to go for his break yet as he looked absolutely bursting for the toilet, hardly able to disguise it anymore, constantly moving from foot to foot and jiggling on the spot slightly. While the customer went inside the tent to look around, Jason waited outside and I saw him reach down and hold himself with his right hand, covering it with his left and bending forwards for a couple of seconds, quickly straightening up again just as the customer came back out. He must have been about to piss himself and I wondered just how much longer he would be able to hold his bladder before excusing himself for a break. Ellie must have noticed too, as when we walked into the breakroom she remarked 'Poor Jase, he must bursting for the loo by now'. The breakroom was just a small seating area with a few tables and chairs, with a small kitchen and toilet next to it. We both grabbed a drink from the machine in the kitchen, and sat down at a table, flicking through some of the magazines that other people had left. We had only been sitting for a couple of minutes when we heard somebody rushing up to the door and frantically pressing the code into the keypad to open it. The door flung open and Jason burst in, looking frantic, gripping his cock tightly through his shorts. He looked a bit surprised to see us and very quickly stopped holding himself. 'Sorry, bursting' he said quietly, clearly embarrassed at being caught, the urgency clear in his voice. He strode through the room towards the toilet, already unbuckling his belt, and closed the door behind him. Because the door was so thin, and the toilet itself was in a very small and echoey room, we could both very clearly hear him unzipping his shorts and lifting up the toilet seat, followed almost immediately by an absolute explosion of piss, splashing against the water with force, and a loud moan of relief. Poor Jason must have been about to explode, as he just kept pissing and pissing, his torrent going on and on like a garden hose that somebody had forgotten to turn off. His relief must have felt incredible. As Jason's waterfall continued, I glanced up at Ellie and noticed that she was blushing and seemed to be trying very hard to concentrate on her magazine, trying her best to pretend that we weren't listening to Jason releasing a very long awaited and desperately needed piss just a few feet away. I don't remember exactly how long he was going for, but it must have been well over a minute. His stream eventually tapered off into a trickle, and then after a few more spurts he was finally empty, finishing with a loud sigh of relief. At hearing him sigh, Ellie giggled and whispered to me, 'He definitely needed that', and I saw that she was still blushing with the embarrassment of listening to Jason's piss as well as his moans and sighs of relief. We heard him zip himself up and buckle his belt, flush the toilet and wash his hands, before he emerged looking red in the face. He turned to us and smiled, clearly embarrassed but also extremely relieved. 'Sorry about that' he muttered, and Ellie laughed. 'Don't worry about it Jase, do you feel better now?'. He nodded and explained that he'd been on the way the breakroom when he was stopped by the customer outside who asked about some of the tents, and after being stuck talking to her for ages he had no choice but to excuse himself, as he just couldn't hold on anymore.
    3 points
  9. View File Two Teens Wet their Panties in the Tub Two teen girls (18 & 19) wet their panties while standing in the tub, showing us their wet spots (and also their breasts a few times). Quite lovely. 🙂 Submitter undercoverpeer Submitted 11/17/2020 Category Female  
    3 points
  10. Chapter 65: Will sipped at his coffee and slid Sarah’s tea towards her. He was a fixer, a sorter, a solution driven man, a practical person in every way, and his mind spun with thoughts of hospitals, lack of petrol in Sarah’s car and the unsolved mystery of why she had been at the bank that morning, combined with the nagging feeling that he still hadn’t cleaned his bathroom. ‘She’s all I have Will.’ ‘You have me too.’ ‘I know. But you are not family.’ ‘I could be.’ ‘Will you can’t be my brother, not that I had one anyway, or my dad or mum or anything else. I know you mean well but no-one can replace parents. It’s just not possible.’ Will hung his head and took another sip of coffee. He hadn’t meant to upset Sarah more and that wasn’t what he had meant anyway. He’d messed things up again. Maybe Sarah was right saying he was autistic, or maybe he was just inept and stupid, but either way he hated that Sarah was hurt and confused. So under his breath, facing the table and not even looking at Sarah, he mumbled what he really meant. ‘I meant I could be your husband, that’s all.’ Sarah took a moment to gather her thoughts. Sometimes conversations with Will were deep, meaningful and constructive. Other times they were hard work, hurtful, and confusing, almost like they spoke two different languages. Pulling her mug closer she hugged it with both hands then took a sip. But wait? What was that Will had just said? Her brain tried to make sense of the sounds it had heard. ‘Will, did you just suggest what I thought you did?’ Will looked at Sarah and spoke clearer and louder than before. ‘Why do people ask questions like that? I mean think about it: how can I say if I said what you thought I said if I have no idea what it was you thought I said in the first place? I’m confused.’ Sarah smiled and finally looked at Will. ‘Ok. I’ll be a bit clearer Will. Did you just say you could become my husband?’ Will’s face went red and his hands were sweating as he reached to get a digestive biscuit to distract himself. Losing his confidence again he nodded and stuttered. ‘Em...ye...yes I...yes I did.’ Sarah reached out and took Will’s hand in hers, resting their arms on the table between them. ‘Will you sure pick your timings! This morning the bank told me my business can’t be saved even though I haven’t paid myself a wage for three months, I then run out of petrol while needing the toilet, I wet myself in the pouring rain, then find out my elderly mum with dementia has been rushed to hospital then you bloody well propose to me! I know you are probably autistic but geez I doubt you’ll be named Mr romance of the year anytime soon!’ Will hadn’t thought of it like that. He’d planned an afternoon at the coast on Friday to mark his birthday and he wanted to talk about his idea then, perhaps sitting on the rocks watching the sun set or walking along the beach hand in hand. Instead he’d blurted it out all wrong and at the worst possible time. With a mouth full of biscuit he tried to apologise. ‘I’m..I’m so sor...’ Squeezing Will’s hand tight Sarah suddenly felt dizzy and nauseous. ‘Will if there is one thing I can tell you as a therapist it is this. Don’t ever apologise for your feelings. We should apologise for mistakes but never emotions. Your timing may be somewhat unusual, your delivery very...well ‘Will like’ I guess..., but your heart gave your mouth words and you couldn’t hold back. That is one of the many hundreds of things I love about you. Besides even on seriously rubbish days like today there’s always something good if you look hard enough. You just made it easier to find. So as long as you are not expecting this skint and tired therapist to buy you a ring then I accept. I would love you to be my husband Will Highland.’
    3 points
  11. I still wet my bed regularly, well I would if I didnt wear diapers. For me I hit the genetics jackpot, both my parents were bed wetters. My Dad never stopped until his teens and my Mum wet right into her twenty's, so it was inevitable that their one and only darling daughter would follow in their foot steps. Only I am so dedicated to the family tradition that I decided not to stop.😇 Well not really, because of my family history visits to the doctors were minimal. Mum and Dad thought that like them I would stop eventually. I was never growled at for wetting my bed, Mum bought me special absorbent pants and plastic covers. They actually were so comfy to sleep in, they even felt better wet !! I lost count of the times where if I woke wet I would rewet my nappy pants just to get that lovely warm feeling.
    3 points
  12. Someone's kinda butthurt, I see
    3 points
  13. new maid.png

    As requested by @bustin2pee, my visualization of https://www.omorashi.org/topic/63591-the-desperate-servant-pt1/ Open for new suggestions
    3 points
  14. FullSizeRender.mov wife pees while dying hair and going live with people watching. This is not very good work on my behalf. But the heart was in the right place 🤷‍♂️. If it’s not well liked, then I’m not sure what to tell ya. Until then, enjoy.
    2 points
  15. Today I went out for a few hours and didn't have access to a bathroom. Eventually I ended up really needing to pee (of course), but I wasn't in a place where I could've gone in the grass or something. By the time I got home I was completely desperate and struggling to hold on. I made it to the door without leaking somehow, but I was about to lose control, and being so close to the bathroom made it worse. My keys were in my bag and I had to dig around for them. By that point I was squeezing my thighs together and bouncing on the spot where anybody could see, it was obvious I was about to have an accident. I shakily tried to get the key in the lock and missed a few times, and as I was frantically squirming I felt a little jet of pee soak my panties. My face went very pink and I crossed my legs tight trying keep it in. My key finally went into the lock and I threw the door open, rushing inside. The second I closed it behind me I shoved both hands between my legs. For a moment I froze and almost let go right in the doorway, but I managed to run to the bathroom. Pee kept leaking into my panties the whole way. Once I got there I knew it was too late, I was wetting myself. Luckily I had a dress on, so I yanked it up as quickly as I could, but that was all I had time to do. It was coming out, I couldn't stop it. I sat down and just peed through my panties. The relief felt amazing, and I was still blushing at the thought of how close I came to wetting on the doorstep where people could see 🤭
    2 points
  16. From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    Harlyn makes a reappearance for the day 4 prompt of Omovember --- desperate during a performance! In case you're wondering, a trumpet is a pretty hellish instrument to play while busting for a pee --- not only does it take a lot of pushing with your diaphragm to get a good sound, it also requires a lot of core strength to keep up a good posture! That's a lot of internal tension to have wrapped around a woefully full bladder! 🤣
    2 points
  17. So I've been working from home part time and part time at a pet store. Well, today we had a mandatory conference. I've been in a mood all week so I figured I would do a small hold to make the time pass. The conference was for the pet store regarding holiday hours, work flow, and of course new COVID rules. Just a bunch of stuff I've heard a hundred times before. The estimated time was no longer than 30 minutes. At that point, why even drive in for it? Anyways, I left about 30 minutes before so I could stop and get a large Cherry Limeade from Sonic. I sat in the drive thru and contemplated eating lunch as well. The food would impede the liquids progress to my bladder and I probably won't feel anything from it. At the last second, I ordered 2 of the large cherry drinks to satisfy myself. The sonic was about a 10 minute drive from the store. Just enough time to hopefully down one WITHOUT giving myself or body brain freeze. I had may final sip right as I pulled in. I gathered my belongings and headed inside. Once I was inside, I realized I made a mistake. I was starting shiver and didn't bring a jacket. Dammit. As I sat there trying to hide my dire shivering, the conference began. Just a zoom call from corporate that we had to watch and take a quiz on at the end. Twenty minutes in and I still didn't feel a thing in my bladder. I was almost halfway thru my second one at this point. I wasn't feeling anything. Even remotely. I was mad but also confused. Why? That was over 48oz of Cherry Limeade in me! Right as the meeting was coming to close, I started to feel a slight tingle in bladder. Ahhh, there's what I've been waiting on I thought to myself. We began on the Ten question quiz which I promptly aced. I started too gather my things when the store manager, (we will call her Tina.) approached me explain she hadn't been to lunch all day and was wondering if I could watch the store for 10 minutes while she ran next door to get a sandwich. I agreed, I mean its only 10 minutes. The pressure building inside me was growing rapidly. The 10 minutes had come and went. "Dammit, where is she?" I asked myself. She came bursting thru the door at the 15 minute mark. "They were so busy! I'm sorry that took so long! You can go home now, I've got it from here." stated Tina. I gathered my things again and headed to my car for the 15 minute drive home. As soon as I sat down, my bladder's pressure hit full force. I had to double over quick and stop a potential leak. "Whoa. This is gonna be a tough ride." I thought to myself. I considering going back in but I was afraid she'd put me to work. I bit my lip and drove off. About halfway home, the cherry limeade was hitting full force. I was driving with my thighs together praying I wouldn't leak on my nice leather seats. I was worried and very flustered. The only thing I could think about was getting from light to light and holding it in. Finally! I was at the light turning into my apartment complex. The light is notoriously long, especially if you're turning. Like 10 minutes long. And I was stuck behind one person who wasn't turning so I was stuck. Stuck with a pounding bladder. Stuck rocking back and forth in my car seat waiting. Finally! The light changed and I practically floored it thru the intersection. I came in flying thru the complex. I'm sure I'll get a notice to not speed tomorrow but oh well. I pulled into my spot and quickly turned off my car. As soon as I hopped out, its like the pressure inside me drastically decreased or I leaked. But I didn't feel anything escape and my undies felt dry still. I could still feel my fullness, but it didn't feel like an accident was going to happen now. I did a very fast walk to my apartment. The brisk 38 Degree air with a strong definitely didn't help the situation. It was maybe 100 feet from my car to my door but it felt like a mile with that wind AND a very full bladder. I fumbled with my keys for a second before finding the right one and running inside. My two dogs immediatly attacked me. I tried to dart past but it was no good. They cornered me and kept jumping on me. I finally escaped there joyfulness and darted into the bathroom. I didn't waste any time pulling my leggings off to pee. Once they were at my knees, I felt a leak escape as I fumbled with my panties. I said "To hell with this!" and plopped straight down on the side of the tub. The amount of force that shot out must've been immense because I couldn't even hear myself sighing with relief over it. I sat there, on the side of the tub, for a good minute or two awestruck at how great I felt. "I missed this so much!" I said to myself. I pulled my leggings off and tossed them on the floor. I twisted around on the rail and pulled my panties off. 100% SOAKING WET. I just smiled and tossed them into the dirty laundry bin. I rinsed off and headed to my office to share the experience with you all. Hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I did. It felt so good to do that again.
    2 points
  18. I can see me rereading this many many times! Oh to have been you that day...what an incredible story and I am so glad you shared. Poor Jason but so glad he made it. p.s. is it bad I would have loved to have been that final customer too? 😉
    2 points
  19. Doing a hold on Discord right now and it's getting really tough not to wet my pullup.
    2 points
  20. Whenever I am with a group of people I wonder to myself if any of them have to pee , and how many of them are desperate. My thoughts are stronger if I know they have not had the opportunity to pee in several hours.How long have they had to pee, and how much longer can they hold it? What are they thinking about their situation? Are they concerned about possibly showing signs of being desperate or more importantly wetting their pants ? And of course what are they going to do about it ? Are they like I used to be stoically holding on so nobody knows they have to pee. I am constantly on alert for even subtle signs of a full bladder. Is she crossing her legs just because it comfortable, or is she trying to hold in her pee? Is she moving about because she is just anxious or nervous for other reasons , or is she trying to not pee her pants ? I think you know where mind goes , and I try to discreetly watch for what happens next. Does her leg crossing , or pee dancing get more obvious ? Does she suddenly rush off to the bathroom? If she does I subilty look for a wet spot. I do all this quietly so not to be a creep.
    2 points
  21. Yeah it's not my cup of tea, cute girls but a bit too staged. To give them their dues though, this could well be their first time doing this sort of content, may not have even see pee/wetting stuff before and are just going off what little direction they've been given. "tell us how much you need to pee, say it feels good, talk about how wet you are" etc.
    2 points
  22. I've got idea that is very bold. but also very exciting. What if someone (it's actualy one of my dreams to do it) create a pub for people like us. So people, who would come here, could hold it or/and pee themselves there, without or with less embarrassement, becose every one would do it. There would of course be toilets, but you wouldn't have to be afraid from just letting it go. Pub would also provide diapers, for those who would want them, for supermarket price, held contests and challenges, etc. It would be devided in to several rooms. For clothed people without diapers, clothed people with diapers, half naked people without diapers, half naked people with diapers, same for completely naked and maybe even cosplays. There would be private lounges also. It would sell basicaly all kinds of driks (maybe exept hard liquor) and probably some food as well. And provide washing mashines and dryers. I hope it would create some safe place for omo fans and break a tabu about it little. What do you think of this idea. Any suggestions? PS: Remember it's basicly my fantasy/dream. But maybe, one day...
    2 points
  23. 2 points
  24. Yo, hear me out on this. Maya Fey or Pearl Fey, reaching the limits of what their bladders can hold, channel Mia. She has a bigger body, surely she has a bigger bladder too, a way to delay the inevitable hopefully long enough. Then it becomes Mia's problem. Why haven't I seen anyone realize this possibility before?
    2 points
  25. I often see it as when someone realises that they aren't going to get to a toilet dry, so your second idea. Though the idea of someone getting so full that they cant move without wetting themselves is a nice way to think of it as well.
    2 points
  26. This forum is full of requests for finding videos, I don't see how this one is any different.
    2 points
  27. A very full bladder bulge from an unfortunately unmeasured hold back in september. I'd been drinking beer all night and had an explosively full bladder. Piss kept leaking and spurting out of me, but I managed to get at least one decent pic of my distended bladder all bloated up out of my body before it burst.
    2 points
  28. If anything we should institute Numerous Nut November. Fight the power.
    2 points
  29. Whether NNN is directly or indirectly connected to incel culture is irrelevant, because either way, No Nut November is objectively a bad idea. Psychologically, regular masturbation and ejaculation are good for stress relief, the relief of sexual tension, release beneficial neurotransmitters which help improve mood, aid in the regulation of sex hormones and other bodily functions, and as mentioned earlier, reduce the risk of prostate cancer. Abstinence from masturbation in a person who usually does so (No Nut November is presented as a "challenge", so presumably participants are regular masturbators) has been correlated with an increase in cortisol levels in the body, which increases stress and anxiety, and may also be linked to an increase of depressive symptoms. Many people cite NNN as a way to weed out and ween off of habitual masturbation in lieu of other past times. However, if an individual is masturbating to the point of exclusion from any other form of entertainment, activity, or hobby, that sounds much more like a deep-set addiction, and isn't going to be cured by a month of abstinence (which a real addict would likely be unable and unwilling to participate in). In addition, a failure to complete NNN in a person with healthy masturbation habits is not an indication of addiction, so NNN is not an effective measure to expose true addictive behavior. Furthermore, while No Nut November's exact rules are unclear and unregulated (as it is an informal challenge and would be impossible to regulate without extensive invasion of privacy anyway), the exact wording of the "challenge" seems to prohibit ejaculation of any kind, which I would imagine includes sex with a partner. Having been in a very sexually active relationship at the time this challenge rolled around last year, I can tell you how impossible that would have been to carry out even if I wanted to at the time. I'd like to say I don't think people would be dumb enough to add unnecessary strain to their relationships and potentially put them in jeopardy over a silly internet challenge, but let's be real here, people would and probably have. TL;DR - NNN is a terrible idea, unhealthy on all fronts, accomplishes exactly 0 of its intended goals, and is just really dumb and stupid. Sorry for the ramble, I feel very passionate about the stupidity that is NNN and hearing people talk about it unironically is frustrating. Luckily most of us seem to be on the "yeah it's dumb" side of things. My plans for November are to continue practicing healthy habits, including regular masturbation.
    2 points
  30. This is Steve, the half of Steve & Deb who used to compile & produce Cascade. I've just been reading all the comments and wow! what good memories you all have! All of our latest happenings like persecution, court cases, moves to friendlier climes etc. were all in the preface of the current magazine at the time. The Cascade magazine was a spin off from our 0898 premium rate pee story lines and there was a message facility on the lines where the punters could give us feedback etc., we used to get messages from people who were after making contact with other pee minded folks and were they any magazines dedicated to wetting and peeing. We used to advertise our phone lines regularly in Forum magazine, (they were an affordable 40p a minute then), so Deb & I thought about it, went to see our solicitor and told his that we were considering putting out an Adult fetish mag. available only to subscribers, he gave us the go ahead, so we crudely constructed a first edition which was glued onto A4 paper and photocopied, then neatly folded and sent out - and even though it was rough, the content was right on target, hence the birth of Cascade. You're right though Kev, Cascade's success was short lived as somebody had complained and our home was raided, but I managed to hide the floppy disc with all the subscriber's details on, so when most of our home was carted away in police vans, we wasted no time in writing (by hand as our trusty Amstrad had been taken) to everyone. That happened twice for the magazine and once for my recording studio in the garden, they were knife-edged times we were living, but we firmly believed that we were doing no harm, so we carried on and yes, in '93 when we had our first raid, we rented the house out, packed our Cascade essentials in the trailer and headed off for the Costa Del Sol and spent a year there, still producing the magazine and making our pee story tapes (yes, tapes). The year there was bliss, just us, the dog, our 2 cats and our photocopier! It's so nice that we're remembered by you guys, it was a pleasure to make the mag., but then, when the end of the nineties came along with dial-up internet, as quite rightly pointed out above, there was no longer any need for Cascade. It had filled a gap, but now it needed putting out to grass. Nearly all of the 10 years of mags are available in downloadable .pdf (there's about 40 I think), but there's no glossy colour, just mono. It's been a pleasure, Steve @ Cascade. Mags index is here: https://www.cascademag.com/cascade-back-issues/
    2 points
  31. I was lying on my front and the pressure made me really need to pee... I squirmed around trying to hold it, but I flooded my panties 😳 67239.mp4 The puddle soaked my skirt and up the front of my tights 💗
    1 point
  32. I have been lurking here for a good while! (ノ≧ڡ≦) Been into omo and everything surrounding it for many years. Planning on creating lots of new art pieces in the future! Hope we can all get along!
    1 point
  33. Tricked to Wet - a Diapered Halloween Story View File Free version of my Halloween video (full version with diaper messing available here). Submitter LittleLadyLumi Submitted 11/15/2020 Category LittleLadyLumi  
    1 point
  34. So I'm going to keep this as short as possible. So this happened to me today while riding on a public transportation bus (yes even with covid they're still running), this was my first "public" near accident I guess you could say, I was seconds away from pissing myself infront of the whole bus. Anywho This was today at around 4:30PM I had decided to go on the bus for old time sake to see what it was like with this pandemic going on, anyways before this I really really had to go, I drank 2 McDonalds medium sized coca colas and before I drank several bottles of water throughout the day and I hadn't used the bathroom in about 5 hours prior. I was already BURSTING to go by the time I got on the bus, out of 10 id say I was a 9/10. My bladder is weird, I can drink a lot before I feel anything, and then when I feel it it quickly builds up, so I can only hold for about a maximum of 2 hours before the pain is too great and I just need to let go. So about 25 minutes into the bus ride and previous hours holding, I was on the verge, sitting by myself, left hand shoved between my legs, my blue jeans would be absolutely ruined if it weren't for my fortune of having my stop coming up soon. So to this point in my life, I have never had an accident in public or even wet myself on purpose in public.. I'm too shy, women can easily get away with it with skirts. I also don't wear dark jeans or shorts. I was wearing a bright red underwear (yes my pfp is the same pair of boxer briefs) and I could feel a few spurts every couple minutes, my bladder gnawing at its chains to just let go, I couldn't give in, not here. Fortunately my bus reached my stop, right in front of my house, I quickly dashed off leaking as a ran.. followed by a dribble.. now my house is on a slight hill and i wouldn't make it, so I stood and waited for the bus to turn fhe corner and then I ran into the woods, and in the fastest I have ever undid my belt I wild west six shootered that motherfucker through my belt hoops and the tightening hole and my pants and underwear dropped to my heels instantly, I hid behind a tree held myself and aimed up and let the waterworks flow. I let out a moan and I panted the entire time as I watered this massive oak tree infront of me, I didn't care, My underwear was badly wet, but I managed to make it without it soaking through too badly, just a small spot by my ass because of how I was shoving myself down and how I was sitting. I peed for only 45 seconds but it was coming like a waterfall, so the stream was thick and a well hydrated light yellowish color. When I stopped after it gushed out I quickly hoisted up my briefs and jeans with a sigh of relief and walked up to my house and never bothered changing. And here I am now, several hours later after now finally getting around to writing this, thanks for reading, feel free to reply with questions or even hmu with a message! Anyone is welcome. Happy wettings! ^^
    1 point
  35. Item 1. You’ve won a loyal readership. And you deserve it. Some other writers have returned after a break and gotten one welcome-back type reply. Item 2. You’ve created a fresh cave. Many author’s caves have been cliches. Not yours. I’m not complaining about those other authors. They’re jazz artists – variations on predecessors cave concepts. Not your cave. No déjà vu. Yet it feels plausible. Maybe a small underground stream (not the very recent one) formed it. Maybe a mother wolf or bear excavated for increased protection for her cubs – accidentally connecting it to a small lava tube (not the tube from a lava lamp – oops! Sorry). Or maybe humans intentionally connected two caves to form a larger shelter. So far you’ve left the description (geologically) open enough we can visualize it as we want. Enjoyable and comfortable for me (until a wall turns into a giant Sasquatch – In that case I just might contribute to the underground stream.). Spooky for those who want spooky. Maybe we’ve seen most of the cave. Maybe a ladder in a tree well will lead down to another level. Maybe the future will take the story completely above ground. I’ll wait (impatiently) to find out. Still loving your writing.
    1 point
  36. The Gala

    I promised male-male, and here it is! This is one of at least a half-dozen story ideas that I came up with over the past few weeks. I had another one that I was *sure* I was going to write next, but then literally yesterday, I saw the word "woodcarver," and here we are. (Note to self: it's probably not the best use of mental powers to turn any word into an omo-based story!) *** “Here, darling.” Caroline Docell reached over to straighten her son’s bow tie. Charlie smiled half-heartedly in response, and his mom titled her head sympathetically. “I know, honey,” she assured him. “These thing get exhausting. But it’s good to get to know people, and it’s important for your dad. Besides,“ Caroline continued over Charlie’s resigned sigh, “The Fawcetts have two sons around your age, and I’m sure they’ll be there!” Nodding his assent – or at least his desire not to argue – Charlie leaned back against the car seat. Of course he understood the importance of attending these ridiculous galas, these bastions of ostentation. His father’s job as a professional fundraiser depended heavily on knowing “the right people” and “being seen in good circles.” And part of being seen meant showing off his shiny, photogenic family. Marty Docell did make an effort to use his kids judiciously, and it’s not like children were invited to many fêtes or fancy dinners, anyway, but as an 18-year-old senior in high school, Charlie was at a stage where he was fairly discomfited by the preening and pretension. Black-tie dress code, high-ceilinged rooms, vapid conversation…Even the promise of peers (well, people his age, at least) wasn’t particularly enticing. Yes, Charlie had met some good friends and had some valuable commiseration sessions with fellow teens at these type of events throughout the years, but he was just as likely, if not more so, to meet kids who were clearly trying to prove that they belonged in the glitz and glamour – kids whose default posture seemed to require keeping their noses in the air and who followed up initial introductions with overtly esoteric questions about a certain United Nations activity or the economic fluctuations in Laos. Charlie nearly shuddered at the thought. His dad had told him about the Fawcett’s two sons – Wendell and Harrington, names that didn’t exactly inspire confidence in their potential sociability. They were both a bit older than Charlie, a junior and sophomore, respectively, at Georgetown University. Normally, having the chance to talk to two students at Charlie’s dream college would be exciting, but as the sons of one of the wealthiest families in Washington, D.C., there was absolutely no guarantee that they’d gotten in on their own merit. “Ready, team?” Marty gestured out the window as their driver pulled up a tree-lined driveway. Charlie’s heart sank. The mega-mansion that rose up over the hill dashed any hopes he’d allowed himself that this party might not be that bad, that maybe the people would be relatively down-to-earth. Instead, the stone-and-pillar monstrosity said, in no uncertain terms, that this was going to be a gala gala, a proper, high-class function packed with people whose only goal in conversation was to make themselves look good. Both Marty and Caroline looked apologetically at their son, but Charlie just straightened his spine and rolled his head back and forth like a boxer loosening up before a round. He’d done this before, and he could do it again tonight. It would only be a few hours, after all. Smoothing imaginary wrinkles from his tuxedo, Charlie unfolded from the car. The evening wasn’t cold, thankfully, so they had no coats to hand to the event staff. Mr. and Mrs. Fawcett were waiting to greet their line of guests in the entryway. Charlie had a brief vision of a royal court announcer, the kind that would bang a staff on the ground to get the room’s attention before loudly calling the names of all entrants. Charlie smothered a giggle as his parents stepped up to be introduced. “Of course!” Mr. Fawcett bellowed, pumping Marty’s hand enthusiastically. “Wonderful to have you, Martin! I heard about the wonderful work you did for the new psych center out in Arlington.” Marty smiled back, just as earnest. “My wife, Caroline,” he gestured, knowing that introduction lines weren’t the place for long conversations, “and my son, Charles.” “Good to have you, welcome, welcome!” Mr. Fawcett beamed as Charlie and Caroline shook the hands of their hosts. “My sons are around here somewhere…” Mr. Fawcett did a quick scan of the room, a task greatly aided by his towering height. “There’s Delly, over there talking to Ambassador Strom-“ Charlie followed Mr. Fawcett’s eyeline to a young man who could only be described as “strapping,” laughing heartily next to a silver-haired gentleman. “-and Harrington…” Mr. Fawcett trailed off, apparently not seeing his younger son, but recovered quickly. “Well, do enjoy, have some hors d’oeuvres, mingle! I think you’ll find, Marty, that there are some very good people here tonight who would appreciate someone honest to guide them to where their money would be best put to use!” Charlie couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows at this seemingly honest assessment, but Marty just smiled and nodded appreciatively, leading his family into the fray. A member of waitstaff appeared out of nowhere, offering bite-sized morsels that probably had very fancy names, while another nameless server offered slim glasses of champagne to the family. Marty glanced at Charlie, silently assenting, should his son want a glass, but Charlie gave his head a little shake. He didn’t particularly like champagne (even, he imagined, obscenely expensive champagne), and he didn’t think alcohol was going to benefit him tonight. It took a few more minutes for another staff member to appear with a tray of water glasses. “Still or sparkling, sir?” “Still, please.” Charlie sipped on his newly-obtained water and looked around the room. Wendell Fawcett (“Delly,” apparently) had moved on from the ambassador, but was putting on a similar performance with a small group of bejeweled women. Charlie had seen enough to decide that he really had no desire to meet Wendell, at least not tonight. Even if he was a decent guy, the elder Fawcett son was clearly in his element schmoozing with Washington society; he wouldn’t be of much social help to Charlie. Seeing no other guests within a solid 20 years of his age (so much for that younger Fawcett), Charlie stuck with his usual game plan of sticking close to his parents, nibbling on the proffered food, and politely responding to the repetitive questions the other adults directed his way. The gala was among the biggest that Charlie could ever remember attending. The house itself was gigantic, and it seemed like the entire first floor was filled with people. The ballroom was teeming with formally-dressed elite, but there were also hundreds of guests throughout the library, the study, the living room…Charlie lot track of the layout of the house as his father wound his way through the crowd, cheerfully talking with potential donors. After about two hours, Charlie found himself shifting from foot to foot. The tedium of the evening was getting to him, but Marty was on a roll. Mr. Fawcett had been right – people were eager to speak to Charlie’s dad and hear about the various projects his company was fundraising for. Absentmindedly, Charlie pulled at his collar. The house climate was well-controlled, but being around hundreds of people for so long was making the air feel thick to Charlie. Like the waitstaff from earlier, Mr. Fawcett was suddenly at Charlie’s elbow, a fascinating feat for such an imposing man. “You know-” Mr. Fawcett leaned down conspiratorially. “-the air is probably a bit cooler down the basement.” Charlie looked up the host, choking down a yawn. “Sir?” Mr. Fawcett beamed. “You’ve hung in there for quite a while, kid, but it looks like your parents will be busy for quite a bit longer. If you head to the back of the house, past the hallway bathroom, there’s a door that’ll take you downstairs. There’s a game room, a TV room…hell, you can hang out on one of the couches and take a nap!” Charlie’s yawn morphed into an awed sigh. In the back of his mind, he knew that he should politely decline – even at the legal age of adulthood, going unsupervised into an otherwise off-limits area of a host’s home wasn’t exactly peak etiquette – but he desperately wanted a break. Maybe even that suggested nap. Charlie glanced toward his mom, but Caroline was already nodding her approval. Charlie turned back to Mr. Fawcett, eyes wide with gratitude. “Thank you so much, Mr. Fawcett. I really appreciate it.” The genial man clapped Charlie on the back, then pointed him in the direction he had indicated earlier. Charlie didn’t hesitate; he was so ready to not be surrounded by rich adults. He wound his way through the rooms and out to the hallway, which itself was still full of people. He saw a line of people waiting for the bathroom, so he slipped past them and opened the next door to find a well-lit stairway. Charlie shut the door behind him and took a deep breath. The air already felt less close, and the noise of the gala faded with every step. The sudden lack of overwhelming chatter made Charlie feel like he’d stepped into another world. At the bottom of the stairs, he was deposited in a large game room. He walked past two pool tables, a foosball table, and a giant collection of video game consoles. Past the game room was a gym that could’ve easily fit in a swanky hotel, with more cardio machines and weight racks than the family could possibly use. Down the hall from the gym, Charlie found the library and the TV room. He wasn’t quite sure he wanted to figure out the massive home theater setup, but before he could figure out what to do (that nap was still a possibility), he heard a small noise coming from the other side of the room. There was another door, partially open, on the far wall of the TV room. At first, Charlie assumed it was some sort of pet or other animal. The noises sounded distressed, though quiet. Slowly, Charlie made his way across the room. “Hello?” He pushed the door open to find a small workshop of sorts. There was a tall table in the middle of the room, covered in raw pieces of wood, as well as intricate carvings in various stages of completion. The floor was littered with shavings. And in the corner of the room, perched on a stool, was a young man. Charlie froze. “Oh, I’m-“ But he cut himself off as the took in more details of the scene. The young man was tall, but hunched over. He was twitching and making soft, irregular whining noises, as if he couldn’t stop himself. His hands, however, were working diligently and skillfully, whittling away with a sharp knife at a small block of wood. He was still in formal dress, but he bow tie was completely undone, the strip of cloth just hanging around his neck, his shirt was untucked, and his jacket was long gone. For a moment, Charlie stood, transfixed by the sight of curls of wood falling from the young man’s hands. The movements were mesmerizing, and Charlie’s mouth hung open slightly. In the next instant, however, Charlie was drawn back by the whimpering. The young man, who could only be Harrington Fawcett, was clearly in distress. “Ah-“ Charlie snapped his mouth shut, unsure of what to say. He was intruding in Harrington’s house, after all. “Are…are you OK, man?” Harrington’s shoulder jerked forward, so Charlie could only assume that he’d heard him, but the young man – boy? – didn’t respond. Charlie frowned. No one had said anything about the younger Fawcett having a disability of some sort, but Harrington wasn’t talking and wasn’t acting in any way that fell within the bounds of typical social interaction. “I…” Charlie was increasingly unnerved. “Hey, I don’t want to bug you, but…” Harrington sniffed, and Charlie saw a tear slip down his cheek. His shaking was even more pronounced, to the point where Charlie was surprised he managed to stay on the stool, but his hands never stopped whittling away at the block of wood. Thoroughly unprepared for this situation, Charlie tried again. “Look, man, can I get someone for you?” Harrington sniffed again, but shook his head vigorously. Charlie let out a slow breath; at least the boy could hear him. “Okaaaaay…” Charlie whispered to himself. He raised his voice to speak to Harrington “Then can I-“ Charlie stopped himself again as he saw Harrington’s knife-holding hand slip off the block of wood, an uncharacteristic break in the previously-controlled movements. Charlie’s eyebrows drew together with concern. Harrington curled his shoulders forward, and tears started to pour down his face. His body shook with silent sobs. Just as Charlie was about to open his mouth to insist on getting someone to help, he heard another odd sound. A liquid, trickling sort of sound. Charlie didn’t even have time to mentally question the noise before he saw the source – a dark, growing stain down Harrington’s left leg, ultimately dripping off the cuff of his tuxedo pants, creating a puddle on the concrete floor. Blinking in confusion, Charlie glanced up from where his gaze had followed the wet trail down to the floor, and he saw that Harrington had resumed his carving, his hands making quick, frenetic movements, tears still coursing down both of his cheeks. It felt weird and intrusive to watch a college student – a presumably sober one, at that – have an accident, but Charlie figured that leaving or turning around would be even weirder. He settled for looking awkwardly down and to the side. Not that Harrington was looking in his direction, anyway. After several long seconds, the trickling sound stopped, though Charlie could still hear Harrington’s suppressed cries and the sound of the knife working away at the wooden block. Cautiously, Charlie raised his eyes. The scene in front of him was much like it was when he’d first walked through the door – a trembling young man, sitting on a stool, whittling a piece of wood. Only now, there were wet streaks down his face and his pants, and a puddle of urine beneath the stool. Charlie drew in a deep breath. “Harrington?” he said hesitantly. “Do you…can I…” He held his hand out, then dropped it to his side. What do you say to a total stranger who just peed his pants in front of you? Facts, Charlie thought. Stick to the facts. “You can’t just stay like that, dude,” Charlie said gently. “You have to get cleaned up.” Harrington twitched, which Charlie took as another sign of acknowledgement, but didn’t move to get off the stool. Charlie forged on. “Can you go upstairs and change?” Tensing all over, Harrington shook his head emphatically, a tight, nervous refusal. “Okay.” Charlie nodded reassuringly. He didn’t understand the man’s reasons, of course, but he was starting to get a picture of Harrington’s behavior. The young man desperately didn’t want to be upstairs in the crowd. Fine. Charlie could deal with that. “Do you have any other clothes down here?” Charlie asked hopefully – maybe a laundry room or something? Harrington shook his head, more slowly this time, almost sadly. His tears had slowed but not stopped, and he looked miserable. Charlie was formulating a plan. It wasn’t a very good one, and he wasn’t sure it would work, but the alternative at this point was leaving Harrington alone, which, in Charlie’s mind, wasn’t an option. “Okay, so you can’t go upstairs, and you don’t have any extra clothes down here,” Charlie narrated. Harrington kept carving. “Then I’m going to go upstairs,” Charlie declared. He saw Harrington’s hands pause for just a second, but the young man still didn’t say anything. “I’ll find your room and get you some clean clothes,” Charlie continued. “No one at the party really knows me, so I won’t draw much attention. You can stay here. No one has to know.” Harrington’s lower lip trembled, but he didn’t offer any overt dissent of Charlie’s plan. Not quite used to Harrington’s silence – he’d only “known” the guy for about five minutes – Charlie nodded. “I’ll…be back soon.” Making his way back across the extensive basement, Charlie ran his fingers through his hair, dazed at this turn of events. Somehow, he had to sneak up two floors in a giant, unfamiliar house, find the bedroom of a man who he still hadn’t technically confirmed was Harrington Fawcett, grab some clean clothes, and sneak back downstairs, without being seen, or at least without being stopped. He’d started the night thinking he’d spend the whole time making inane small talk with rich, old people, and now, he was on a self-imposed quest for a rich, young person who had wet himself in his own house. Weird. Charlie paused at the top of the stairs to make sure his tuxedo was still presentable, knowing that any signs of dishevelment would only draw attention. He slipped out the door into the still-crowded hallway, not making any eye contact. He knew that there was a grand staircase in the entryway, but Charlie also figured there would be some sort of back set of stairs. Relying on nothing more than educated guesses, he made his way toward the back of the house. There were still plenty of people, but the crowd thinned a bit as Charlie approached the kitchen. He stuck his head through the doorway and nearly gasped with relief when he saw a set of stairs going up in the fair corner. Charlie didn’t hesitate as he strode across the room. There were a few catering staff, but Charlie correctly assumed that they were all hired from an external company and had no real interest in policing the boundaries of the party. Up the stairs, Charlie found himself in a long hallway. The doors were all shut, but it was quiet; Charlie could only hope the lack of noise meant a total lack of people. Seeing no other option, Charlie tried one door at a time, pausing to listen before he opened each one. The first six doors seemed to be four guest bedrooms – well-decorated, but no personal touches – with guest bathrooms between each pair. The next rooms were an office of some sort and another TV room. Charlie closed his eyes in frustration after shutting the door of the TV room. Who really needed all these rooms, anyway? Whatever happened to the upstairs just being bedrooms? He turned the corner at the end of the hallway and continued trying doors. A bathroom, then a bedroom that Charlie gazed around a bit before deciding it must be Wendell’s. It was larger than any of the guest rooms, but the collection of politically-based books on the bookshelf looked like they belonged to the young man who was easily hobnobbing in the party, not to his younger brother who was hiding in the basement. With a sigh, Charlie closed the bedroom door and tried the one across the hall. Bingo. Harrington’s room was covered in models and wood carvings. It was slightly messier than Wendell’s room, but not a disaster by any means. It just looked like more of a haven, a place that was Harrington’s own in the midst of the carefully-curated mansion. Charlie leaned over the windowsill for a moment, admiring the carvings lined up there. Harrington really was talented. Still, Charlie wasn’t here to snoop; he had a job. Charlie quickly rifled through the wardrobe, settling on a pair of plaid pajama pants. He grabbed a pair of underwear from the top drawer, marveling briefly at the continued oddity of the situation, then folded his stash under his tuxedo jacket and headed back downstairs. Maintaining his practice of not looking anyone in the eye, Charlie strode across the kitchen and back to the hallway with the basement door. He didn’t see anyone he knew (which really, only consisted of his parents and the Fawcetts), and none of the other guests seemed to care about the shifty teenager winding through their midst. Breathing a sigh of relief, Charlie shut the basement door behind him and bound down the stairs. His part of the mission was essentially done. He made his way across the basement, pausing at the kitchenette in the theater room. On a whim, he grabbed some paper towels and ran them under some water in the sink. He hadn’t thought to grab soap or a washcloth upstairs, but he figured Harrington should probably clean up a bit before putting on dry clothes. Back in the wood shop, Harrington hadn’t moved, although, Charlie had to admit, he did look calmer. He’d stopped crying, and his breathing was more even. He was still working on his carving, but his hands looked less tense. “Here.” Charlie pulled the pants and underwear out from under his jacket and set them on the edge of the table along with the damp paper towels. “I’ll…” Charlie knew he really couldn’t do anything else – lead a horse to water and all that – but he didn’t want to just leave Harrington alone completely. “I’ll be in the theater room if you need anything else.” True to his word, Charlie settled in one of the corners of the huge sectional couch. He still didn’t want to mess with the TV, so he just pulled out his phone. It didn’t take quite as long as Charlie implicitly expected – maybe 15 minutes or so – for Harrington to emerge. Really, Charlie hadn’t been sure that the boy would leave the workshop at all. But leave he did, in just a white t-shirt and the pajama pants that Charlie had collected. His hair was mussed, and his eyes were puffy, but he didn’t look nearly as anguished as he had when Charlie first encountered him. Charlie glanced up, but didn’t move from the couch. He had no precedent for this situation, and he didn’t want to do anything to make Harrington more uncomfortable. The younger Fawcett son sat in the opposite corner of the couch, curling his long legs in front of him. For a couple more minutes, he stayed silent, and Charlie went back to scrolling through his phone. “Thank you.” Charlie nearly jumped. Harrington’s voice was quiet, but much deeper than Charlie had expected. He looked up. Harrington was worrying the hem of his shirt between his fingers, head down. “No worries, man,” Charlie replied, sincerely. “Like I said, I didn’t mean to barge in on you like that.” Harrington was quiet for a few more moments. Charlie wanted to stare at him, to try to figure out exactly what was going on with this otherwise privileged young man. But he just went back to his phone, barely paying attention to the images on the screen. “The parties are really hard for me.” Charlie looked up again. Harrington still wasn’t looking at him, but he breathed in deliberately, as if he was going to keep talking. “I…” Harrington wound the hem of his shirt around his thumb. “Even when I was little, I didn’t like them. The noise and the closeness…I used to put my hands over my ears and cry.” Slowly, so as not to make any noise that might interrupt his companion’s story, Charlie slid his phone back in his pocket. “My parents were always really good about it,” Harrington continued. “They wanted me to be there, obviously, but they understood that it was hard. It wasn’t just parties, but the events were the worst. They took me to therapy. It never seemed to bother them that I needed a shrink.” “…wonderful work you did for the new psych center…” Charlie recalled Mr. Fawcett’s introductory praise for Marty, which suddenly made a lot more sense. “I want to be good at it,” Harrington sighed. “But the whole gala experience makes me feel awful. My head hurts and my stomach feels weird and I want to claw my skin off. So my parents made me a deal, years ago: I would make an appearance, get dressed up, and then I could sneak off and hide.” By this time, Charlie had turned so that his whole body was facing Harrington. “I don’t-“ Harrington’s voice caught, and he took a breath to compose himself. “Tonight was really bad. They’re not usually this hard, but there were so many people, and they all wanted to talk to me, and Senator Smallwood kept giving me champagne, and his wife kept touching my arm…” Harrington trailed off, swiping at his eyes with the back of his hand, and Charlie felt a deep hatred for this couple he’d never met. “I left as soon as I could,” Harrington went on, his voice wet. “I came down here because the woodwork usually calms me down, doing something with my hands, but-“ He choked up again, and Charlie wanted to tell him that it was OK, he really didn’t need an explanation, but his own voice betrayed him. “There’s no bathroom down here,” Harrington explained, a quirk that Charlie had noticed. “It’s weird, but it’s usually not a problem, because there’s one right at the top of the stairs, but-“ A single tear slid down Harrington’s cheek, a relic of the anxiety and humiliation of the evening. “I couldn’t make myself go back upstairs, and then it got worse, and then I really couldn’t go upstairs, because someone would see me having to pee, and I just…” “It’s okay, man,” Charlie insisted earnestly, finally finding his voice. “No one saw, no one has to know.” Harrington finally looked up, blinking tears out of his shining eyes. “I just…I just wanted to thank you. I wanted you to know that I don’t just…” Harrington hung his head again. “…tonight was really bad,” he finished softly. Sensing that the story was over, Charlie wanted to give the young man a hug. Or deliver him to his mom for a hug. Something. But they were still strangers, and Charlie had heard enough to realize that human touch may not be super comforting to Harrington, so he settled for verbal reassurance. “It’s really fine,” he assured the ashamed young man sitting across from him. “It’s no big deal, and I promise, I won’t tell anyone.” Charlie offered a hesitant smile. “I was coming down here to escape, too. I was super grateful your dad suggested it.” Harrington looked up again, smiling weakly in return. “He’s a good guy,” he said, and Charlie could see how much the young man truly loved his father. “He probably wanted you to check on me.” Charlie shrugged ruefully. In all honestly, he would have done a lot more than what the past half hour had encompassed in order to escape the gala. “I’m glad I could help.” He sat up a bit straighter, realizing a gaping hole in the conversation. “I’m Charlie, by the way. Charlie Docell.” Harrington’s eyes widened at the social oversight. “Oh! I’m-“ “Harrington Fawcett,” Charlie interrupted, grinning. “I figured that much.” Harrington dipped his head slightly and reached for the remote to turn on the TV. “It’s nice to meet you Charlie. It’s nice to have someone to wait out the rest of the party with.” He flipped something in Charlie's direction, and Charlie's hand closed reflexively around a small, wooden figure - the carving Harrington had been working on. It was an owl, covered in intricate feathers, so detailed that Charlie felt guilty just holding it. "Wow," he breathed. "This is awesome, man." Harrington shrugged off the compliment, but smiled nonetheless. He turned on the TV, signaling an end to his introductory confessional. “And you can call me Harry.”
    1 point
  37. 1 point
  38. Another problem if this is still relatively early in the night and there are other stops yet to make on this crawl, or if she is a good distance from home (or if one of her guy friends intends on taking her back to his place): Breaking The Seal. There's been debate over how much of it is true, but generally the theory goes that once you've had your first pee after a lengthy period of holding the urethral muscles are weakened, the bladder will become more sensitive after having been stretched, and freed of their blockage the kidneys will kick into overdrive to clear the backlog of fluids coming down from the stomach. The result is that after waiting a long time for the first bathroom visit, consecutive needs for release will follow hot and fast, especially when diuretic fluids like beer were involved. So if she gives in and pees now she'll be needing to pee again possibly as often as every half hour for the rest of the night, or at least until most of what she's consumed has been processed and dealt with. Thus the quandary: Try to regain control and hold it a little longer until she can call an Uber home, or break the seal and endure the consequences of frequent pee breaks and inability to hold as long until morning?
    1 point
  39. I can't wait for Jason. I believe the story. But I don't give one single fuck if it's true. What if not? Doesn't change the fact that it's great.
    1 point
  40. I am sitting in a drive-thru waiting for my lunch and just soaked an already wet diaper. I was waiting patiently when I suddenly felt like, "holy sh!t, I need to pee now" at the same time I felt a spurt of piss. Moments later another spurt turned into a full bladder emptying gusher.
    1 point
  41. [Futa] Futarama

    Note on pronouns: The race in this story is split into three genders, rendering pronouns entirely arbitrary. They are more-or-less feminine compared to humans. Maris are generally referred to as 'he', while Veris and Mercuric are referred to as 'she' for the purposes of distinction. Otherwise I have to trawl through tumblr for 'appropriate' terms, or just keep using the gender name. Part 2: Leslie (Maris, Kafka Staff, Floor 195) The announcement made it to Floor 195 just as Leslie was heading to the elevators to go to the toilet. His heart had sunk at the revelation. For one thing, he liked his privacy and did not know if he could even pee with someone watching, never mind with them providing the toilet service. For another, he had had a perfectly good run pretending to be Veris. The language of numbers had always been comfortable for Leslie, even though it was a particularly Veris thing to enjoy. His general timidity helped keep his place, avoiding confrontation and just getting along with the work. Genitals hidden away under the folds of a thigh-length black skirt, whose hem was highlighted by two thin white lines, he fit right in. Slender-er than typical legs, a minimised thigh gap that he had inherited from his parents, and absolutely no tendency to slouch soon even had the eye of one particular Veris. Homosexual relations were not discouraged, but they were not expected among Turinites. Between his job as a decrypter and the attraction of someone who should rightly have been his romantic partner by now, Leslie was very reluctant to disrupt that with a sudden, impromptu penis. As he returned to his desk, absent-mindedly giving himself a light squeeze of his penis to reassure his bladder, his crush arrived. Abbie leaned over the divider on the left of Leslie's desk, letting her breasts cast a shadow over his notebooks. "Oh god, do we actually have to have someone... help us when we need to go?" Abbie's ginger hair, tied back in a loose ponytail, glinted in the sunlight streaming in from the several-metre-wide floor-to-ceiling window nearby. "I think so, why else would they bring those 'living urinals' here?" "Ugh. I just wish they'd come a little later, I was about to go on break." "Same." "Are you going to use them?" "Huh?" "Well, we'll all have to go at some point. I don't know why they couldn't have just let us go ourselves though, or at least use some other system." "Maybe this was just the most efficient system they could think of?" Before Leslie could get around to saying what pressed him most - he was going to call it 'stage fright' - everyone's computer screens flashed on and started scrolling through the opening code of the first part of the Priority one transmission. Everyone milling around, except the urinals, dashed back to their desks to begin work. * * * A solid hour of frantic typing into their computers and scrawling onto notebooks passed in near-silence. This work was not simply cryptographical. If it was, a machine could do it. Some point in the distant past, though, computing had evolved to a stage where it could think for itself. It had immediately gotten out of control and had to be abandoned. This left two problems for encrypted transmissions: first, there were now codes that could not be cracked by machines because the resources needed to crack them would immediately lose control of the machine. Second, these transmissions needed to be cracked anyway. The solution was the creation of a pseudo-mathematical 'empirical' language, combined with advanced intelligence brought about by genetic engineering. This allowed living creatures to do what machines now cannot, by exploiting the differences in hardware. Not that this was much comfort to Leslie, however, as his missed bathroom break started to distract him. He'd seen the living urinals pacing around checking in on anyone looking too distracted, and each time they passed him he'd had to stare intently at his work to avoid their attention. His penis was comfortably hidden under his skirt in such a way that he could, and did, absent-mindedly squeeze it to reassure himself. This tendency nearly got him caught by one of the urinals, as he embarrassedly withdrew his hand and placed it on the desk like a good little worker. He had stolen a second glance at the onlooker, and instantly regretted it - catching their eye just before they turned away. More time stole by and Leslie's urgency kept creeping up on him. He had initially hoped that the transmission work would give him a break at some point, but that looked increasingly unlikely. There was no sign of slowing down, no pauses between segments of work. And the work itself was nothing like he'd seen before, either. No wonder they'd been put on overtime, because this was just not a normal transmission. Not that that helped. Leslie's bladder was now feeling swollen in his abdomen, with a tingling sensation along his urethra whenever he did not hold himself. Entering solutions into the computer with one hand, he was seriously starting to wonder whether he would have to just hold it in until the work was over. "Are you alright?" Leslie started, and nearly let out a spurt of pee in surprise. "Uhh... uh, yes." One of the living urinals had loomed over his desk, her - as he could tell by her eyes she was Mercuric - cotton shirt flecked with slowly drying liquid. "It's just that it's been nearly three hours now, and I don't think you had much chance to go to the toilet before we got here. Are you sure?" Leslie knew that he would have to release, or at least admit the need, at some point. This Mercuric would surely come back to him in the next hour, and the next. He said in a small voice, "well, uh... no." "It's okay to be embarrassed or nervous - almost nobody here has done this before except for us. But look, if you stay on your chair, or kneel down, you can't be seen through your dividers. And we are obliged by law, no matter what we see or what happens, to keep this confidential." Leslie's bladder contracted involuntarily, and he squeezed himself again. "Let me help you pee. If you don't, it'll just come out by itself anyways." "I, uh..." Leslie wanted to communicate that his gender was not what they thought, but did not want anybody overhearing. "Look, just nod if you need to pee. I'll be heading down to the restroom soon, and I might not be back here for another hour or so." Then she whispered, "between you and me, I don't think you can make it that long." Leslie nodded. The Mercuric gingerly stepped between the dividers, revealing her loose-fitting unisex gym shorts and, to Leslie's surprise... "Are you pregnant?" She shook her head, "no, that's my bladder. I've been holding onto several people's needs. What they can't hold, we must." Her bladder was a soft, round protrusion that tightened the waistband of her shorts against her form. Leslie fancied for a moment that if he poked it it might explode, but then another wave of urgency caused him to grip himself. She kept talking softly, "take a moment to get control of yourself, and then shuffle to the edge of your seat. Once there, make sure to hang your crotch over that edge a little bit." Leslie made sure that nothing was coming out of its own accord, and then did as instructed. The living urinal pinched the hem of his skirt with both hands. "There are a few ways to do this, but the biggest problem is underwear. When I lift your skirt, I'm going to slide your underwear down to your ankles to get them clear. I'll keep the skirt on so you can cover yourself quickly if needed." Leslie nodded, and winced as he tried to keep his sphincter under control. His thighs pressed together in urgency as the Mercuric flipped the skirt up, revealing his boyshorts and... "You too, huh?" Leslie looked confused before she clarified with a grin, "you're not the only one! And you know what, this actually makes it easier. Your boyshorts come with a fly." They did indeed have a fly, covered by a tight overlap between two layers of fabric. Leslie had naturally preferred them to panties, which would chafe, and boxers, or even briefs, due to the tighter fit. The living urinal, whose name Leslie now realised with shame he did not even know, carefully separated the folds of fabric and pulled his soft penis through.
    1 point
  42. Great bulge, incredible, must be the mother of all bulges!! Do you plan making a video of urinating too?
    1 point
  43. Context: I am currently dating a guy that's fairly older than me (I'm 18 he's 23) and unfortunately as I am living at uni at the moment and he travels a lot due to his professional occupation (DJ producer) we don't get to see each other very often. I don't mind doing long distance all that much but to be fair when we do visit each other it is always awesome. This story happened around late September this year when he came over and booked a night at a local hotel for us to have fun in...Also I want to mention that we engage in a lot of different kinks, we never really agreed upon doing omorashi per se, but holding and wetting just come up often in our dynamics as we welcome most means of humiliation and intimacy. Anyway on to the meat and potatoes... It was about noon when I went to pick him up at the train station. I quickly rushed to give him a big hug. He is really tall and I´m below average height for a female, so I had my arms wrapped around his waist as I sobbed and kissed his tummy. He begins petting my head and says "Aww I too missed you so much, little baby", however I could sense something wasn't right as he appeared rather uncomfortable. He cold thin hands gently push me away as he tells me I was pressing on his bladder that was very full from not going for the whole of the 5-hour train ride and having drunk lots of juice and a coffee with breakfast. I said "sorry, daddy" - I often call him that - and we went outside and smoked a cigarette each while waiting for the uber that would take us to the hotel. All the while I noticed he was slightly fidgety and kept taking deep breaths. After a short ride, where we just held hands while he showed me pics of his latest gig, we finally got to the hotel. As soon as we get to our room though I grab and push him onto bed while kissing him and placing his hands on my boobs. I take off his trousers, and we have sexual intercourse followed by him performing oral sex on me. At that point we were both quite tired and I mumble still in an orgasmic haze "Hey I need to pee". The truth is by then I too was quite desperate, as quite a few hours had passed since I emptied it and I had had a large cappuccino while waiting for him at the station. By then I can only imagine how full he must have had been - but he just says "Oh yeah same baby I have been holding for ages, but just wait a little longer so we can pee together in a bit? It was actually quite interesting how he seemed like he had completely forgotten about needing to pee while we were having sex. Anyhow after caressing his dick - which seemed very tense - for a while, we proceed to just spoon for a bit. Me being the little spoon, he kept gently massaging my crotch and bulging bladder while simultaneously appearing quite desperate himself as he was crossing his legs tighter and tighter. I moan "I love you so fkn much", to which he responds "Likewise, baby, you know it has always been you from the beginning, you were always on my mind". By then I burst into tears and as I cry I leak a bit. He must have felt the wetness of my vagina against his hand because he went "aww baby lets get us both a nice and much needed pee, shall we?". I felt ecstatic at the sound of those words, however before I could even process it, I felt a warm stream against my thighs so I closed my eyes and let go as well. I must have went for about 30 seconds, but he peed for a solid 2 minutes. I swear I had never seen so much pee in my life, he must've been bursting the whole time. He then opens his legs a bit and squeezes his cock to allow for the last few droplets to come out. "ahhhhhhh" he gasped in relief, as you can imagine that excited me to oblivion. The rest of the afternoon was spent cuddling on top of the huge puddle that surrounded us. We ordered pizza at one point after blazing it up, had sex again and just kept it going along those lines until we both fell asleep in each other's arms.
    1 point
  44. 844 downloads

    After a long hike Sally comes home very thirsty. She drinks her water and then goes to use the restroom, but she can't get in because the door is locked! She really, really has to pee and she's pacing back and forth getting nervous. She can't open the door so she tries to squat over the sink, but she can't bring herself to do it. And soon enough she realizes she can't hold it anymore and the pee starts to gush right through her shorts. Embarrassed about the situation she starts to remove the shorts, but it is too late and there is already a huge mess. However the feeling of letting go felt so good that she now begins to play with herself in various positions and enjoy the moment. Perhaps she enjoys too much because now she has to pee again!
    Free
    1 point
  45. @Adrian6970wc I've been drawing mostly hentai and other NSFW art but omo seems like a fun change! So far I've been having a lot of fun sketching new poses and thinking new ideas! 🧡
    1 point
  46. Waterfalls

    View File Waterfalls I made a compilation of scenes illustrating my main preferences. These 20 clips all feature girls who could pee for England and create a waterfall. No slight dribbles , just litres of pee cascading through their panties and all within view. You've probably seen all these before but I just thought it nice to bring a few favourites together Submitter sathanas Submitted 11/14/2020 Category Female  
    1 point
  47. I was lucky enough to witness college friend to wet herself when she was completely drunk and passed out. She was transferred to separate room to rest and someone was checking if everything was fine from time to time. And maybe after less than one hour the person came back and laughed and told that she pissed herself. We all went to check her and indeed, her dark blue jeans were completely soaked. She was taken but girl to the toilet and changed into some spare clothes from flat owner. Also another one of my college friends admitted wetting her jeans coming back from a joint party. In the group we had a tradition, that after splitting and reaching our flats everybody was texting the rest reporting that home was reached. When she was not texting I sent her some messages like "everything is fine?" few times due to lack of answer. After some time she texted with something like "yeah, I'm OK, but I pissed my pants and had to take a shower". I answered with maybe something like "what?" and she replied "I thought that I'll make it, but I didn't, so I peed myself 2 minutes from my block". After some days I asked her if she was feeling OK with this situation and she answered like "yeah, not a big deal, side effect of hard parties. It happens from time to time". So it was not her first time. Later on I started to regret that I didn't ask further... And the last seeing - some stranger at student summer outdoor concert. She was leaving the area with two her friend and totally wet jeans. She was looking like rather drunk one.
    1 point
  48. I was bored and was watching some compilations of her old Instagram/Snapchat videos and found another little gem. The clip of interest runs from about 2:55- 3:15 https://youtu.be/bxi-p1CzuTE
    1 point
  49. Well I think it's been about 3 years (dang) since I posted a picture in this thread, so I return with an urge to share. I noticed my bladder starting to feel full, but still completely relaxed so I decided to hold for a while and keep hydrated. I love it when you can just feel the pressure building without any tension or spasms and it stayed that way until near the end until it grew increasingly more distracting and uncomfortable. I definitely could have lasted a bit longer, but I guess the willpower wasn't there.... As it seems with any hold I measure I always seem to hit around 1.2L. In this case 1.15L. Regardless I found my bladder bulge this time around to be rather prominent. Seemed like it might be worth sharing. Bladder bulge After release I actually find taking pictures a decent way to distract me from my need to go. Helped me last another 5 minutes towards a time goal I set 30 minutes earlier.
    1 point
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