holdinginpee

currently there are four gender icons for threads which are visually identical: trans female, trans male, androgyne, and non-binary. it is thus impossible to tell which of them the icon refers to without hovering over it unless the information is redundantly included in the thread title or tags, rendering it actively less useful than just having it written as text. i would suggest making each one a separate color. trans female matching female and trans male matching male would be the obvious choice; the current purple would make sense for androgyne. i have no specific suggestion for what color non-binary would be, beyond "not pink, blue, or purple". edit: now that i check, it looks like androgyne doesn't actually display as an icon. i thought i remembered it doing so, but i guess not. in that case, i additionally suggest making it so that it does; it's odd for one and only one of the options in that field not to use an icon.

you know how there's a bunch of different versions of scp-001? well, DSP-001-α Object Class: Perilous Detainment Procedures: Information pertaining to DSP-001-α is to be strictly suppressed from public awareness. An alternative theory (see file DSP-001-α-10 regarding the "big bang" and "heat death") has been successfully disseminated as scientific consensus; it is to be maintained and updated as appropriate to ensure the appearance of ongoing scientific discovery. Likewise, archaeological expeditions and historical research are to be monitored for potential references to DSP-001-α on recovered materials; any such found are to be altered or destroyed. Equipment which could enable the discovery or inference of DSP-001-α will be patented, sabotaged, or otherwise prevented from becoming commercially available. Private individuals, scientific organizations, and any others who may be able to obtain such equipment or otherwise become aware of DSP-001-α will be approached by DSP personnel for psychological evaluation. If they are willing and able to maintain secrecy they may be sworn in and given proper authorization. If they are unwilling and/or unable, they are to be neutralized as a potential leak through the gentlest reasonable means, e.g. discreditation, blacklisting from the field of study, amnesicisation, or, if necessary, termination. At the highest possible priority, research is to be maintained into the nature of DSP-001-α, with a specific focus to preventing a possible release event. All available DSP entities are to be examined for possible utility to such an end, particularly those which cause an inability to urinate and/or increased bladder capacity. Any attempt to apply DSP entities which cause increased urinary urgency or involuntary, accelerated, or immediate urination will result in termination. Description: While references to the concept of DSP-001-α have existed in mythology and culture as early as records exist (see files DSP-001-α-4 through -7 for records and alterations made), it was not widely known or believed, and its existence was only confirmed in 19██, as the advancement of technology made it possible to gather data on the universe at greater distance and fidelity than was previously possible. DSP-001-α was classified █ months later, at which point early infosuppression began (see files DSP-001-α-9 and -10, including "outdated theories" such as the "big rip" and "big crunch"). It was observed at this time that the structure of the universe resembled the interior of a living organ, as observed in Earth animals. With further research, it was determined that this resemblance was specific and meaningful; the shape of the universe does not merely resemble an organ but is identical in structure, barring the material composition, to a human bladder, approximately ███ billion light-years across. The Milky Way is neither centrally located nor "upright" in orientation relative to the bladder; for more information on physical characteristics of DSP-001-α see file DSP-001-α-2. Little is known of DSP-001-α-A, the presumed entity which houses DSP-001-α, nor any hypothetical others that may exist, nor the "universe" in which they themselves exist. It is assumed that DSP-001-α entities are humanlike, albeit on an immense scale, due to the extreme similarity between DSP-001-α and the human bladder - its structure is identifiable as such even compared to the bladders of non-human primates. (See file DSP-001-α-21 for hypotheses on the significance of this similarity.) Likewise, whether other "bodily fluids" or "organs" of DSP-001-α entities contain universes of their own, recognizable or otherwise, is unknown, as are the consequences if DSP-001-α-A "urinates"; it is assumed that such a release event would be highly unfavorable towards our continued existence. Of particular concern is the physical state of DSP-001-α. By comparison to a human bladder, its overall shape and the stretching observed in "muscle fibres" suggests DSP-001-α-A would be experiencing significant "urinary" urge, such that it would demand active and continual focus to avoid urination. The physical state of DSP-001-α-A, including its environment, circumstances, and "urinary" resilience, is entirely unknown; accordingly, it is impossible to tell how far it may be from a "toilet", nor how long it may resist involuntary "urination". Fortunately, it is observed that DSP-001-α-A exists at an enormously slowed rate of time relative to the universe within DSP-001-α; from the beginning of recorded history it has experienced approximately ten seconds of relative time. For the past 2██ years DSP-001-α has been experiencing a "muscle contraction", presumably causing a period of increased urgency; this is likely to continue for a minimum of several more centuries. Experiments on the possible effectiveness of DSP entities on DSP-001-α have proven promising; it is currently believed to be possible to apply their effect to DSP-001-α-A, if a method of replicating them from the inside and at a large enough scale can be devised.

simply remembering a 138 instance is not enough to activate its effects anew, though writing it down or speaking it aloud from memory can. previous testing has shown that its duration varies randomly even with repeat exposure for the same individual, so memory is unlikely to be the sole cause of the variance. it is possible that it is a contributing factor, however.

probably the former, i'd guess, but they still wouldn't be willing to do it unless they'd follow any other arbitrary suggestion/order, like if it's a boss and an employee, or trusted friends.

i don't know. i would guess it probably works the same both ways.

sure.

i would expect the answer to both would be yes, but that it wouldn't affect the subject's behavior. testing has already shown that subjects are aware of the purpose of a bathroom in theory, which would likely include memories of past use. if told directly, the likely response would be either dismissal or lack of comprehension.

if i recall correctly, the movie revolves around a group of students dealing with the trauma of having lived through a school shooting. this character in particular was in the bathroom when it happened, thus her reluctance to go back in there.

this one? cheyenne-jewel-desp.mp4

i've long since suspected those figures are on the low side. not only because an average is by nature going to be lower than the highest numbers, but because it's unlikely such studies recorded people's actual maximum capacities. more likely the participants were just instructed to pee when they felt like they couldn't hold it any more, rather than waiting for them to actually lose control. plus, even if they did try to reach their actual limits, most people aren't very experienced at holding it. people on here are more likely to know what to drink or avoid drinking, what positions help most, how to distract themselves from the feeling, and so forth, as well as just being more used to the feeling and so able to ignore it better. practice makes perfect, and so forth.

the part about the jug doesn't match, but it's possible you're talking about terrifying girls' high school, which has been uploaded to this site here. the forced drinking part starts at around 37 minutes and the wetting at 40 minutes.

i'm glad! i mentioned this in the notes on ao3, but my only actual exposure to fairy tales is second- or third-hand, often in the form of parody adaptations in things like the simpsons. so it's good to hear i got the tone right despite that.

In a quiet, peaceful land, at the base of a tall mountain and on the edge of a wild forest, there lay a small town. On the outskirts of that town was a farm, and on the farm there was a farmer. The farmer had a wife, and one day, when the trees were green with new spring growth, the wife gave birth to a daughter. The girl, whom the new parents named Matilda, was special from the very start. Even in her first moments, wrinkled and soft, she took her mother’s hand in an uncommonly firm grip. “You’re very strong, little one,” her mother told her, and laughed. When, not too many months later, Matilda decided she was tired of lying in her cot and ripped apart the bars to let herself out, there was rather less laughter; and by the time the farmer’s horse fell ill and little Matilda toddled out into the field and began to pull the plow herself, it was becoming clear that it was no simple joke. Matilda was, indeed, very strong. As she grew, Matilda became proud of her strength, and came to enjoy testing herself against the townspeople. At first she pitted herself against other children in arm-wrestles and other tests of strength, but none could stand up to her. As she moved on to older and stronger opponents, she was delighted to find herself better challenged, and eventually even outmatched. Whenever someone was able to best her she would congratulate them and go off to train herself, returning thereafter to claim victory. And so it went on. As the years passed, she became not only very strong but very beautiful; she had inherited her mother’s pretty features, which paired well with her broad, muscular frame and sun-tanned skin (for, her father having passed away some years ago, the work of tending to the farm had fallen to her). A great many people tried to catch her eye, a few of them successful, but never did she find herself truly falling in love. Her mother followed her father a few years later, and Matilda was left alone. She grew from a teen to a young woman, and in turn to simply a woman; and around this time she began to joke that perhaps she would marry only the person who could bring her a challenge her mighty strength could not overcome. The joke spread, and before she knew it people began to take it seriously, coming to her with tasks they hoped would be beyond her. “You cannot stop a charging bull in its tracks,” the farmer’s son told her. Matilda just grinned, hopped the fence into the field, and caught the furious bull by its horns, shoving her back through the mud but slowing the beast to a stop. “You cannot fell the thickest of the forest’s trees with your hands alone,” said the woodworker’s daughter. Matilda laughed, hiked out into the forest, and swung her fist into the trunk; the tree posed some resistance, but with some effort she was able to bring it down, celebrating by dragging it back to the outskirts of the town to be harvested for lumber. “You cannot throw a stone over the top of the mountain,” a salesman passing through the town declared. Matilda tried, and tried again, and even her hardest throw fell far short of halfway, and she exclaimed in delight. The salesman left a few days later with her promise that he would see her succeed the next time he came by; and thereafter she spent her time practicing, and training, and throwing rocks higher and higher, until eventually one sailed over the peak to land somewhere beyond. The salesman, when he returned, was a little disappointed, but duly impressed to see her repeat the feat with a boulder the size of her head. The challenges came less frequently over time as everyone saw she could rise to them, until she would only occasionally receive one from a traveller passing through, or someone who had heard the story - which had long since spread out of control - that she had sworn not to marry, or perhaps been forbidden to by her father or the town’s leader or the gods themselves, until her strength was lain low. And still she never found love. And then, one day, a woman came to town. Priya had heard the rumors in passing, but had never given them much thought, so it was a surprise to her when she saw a man hand a thick iron rod to a woman, only to walk away dejected when she handed it back tied into a bow. She asked a passing townsperson what was going on, and was told of Matilda’s search for a task that would defeat her tremendous strength. Interesting, thought Priya. For Matilda was beautiful, and Priya was far from immune to the charms of a beautiful woman; and beyond that, she had a private interest of her own. This, she thought, could be a chance to see that interest become reality. “Pardon me,” she said, catching Matilda’s attention. “Are the rumors they tell of you true?” “That depends,” Matilda replied, “on which rumors you’ve heard.” “I’ve heard you’re very strong,” Priya said. “Maybe the strongest in all the land. And I’ve heard you seek a task you cannot overcome even so.” Matilda’s face broke into a smile. “In that case, the rumors are true,” she said. “Do you have one to propose? I’ll warn you, I’ve heard many people come up with the same few things.” “Tell me if you’ve heard this one,” Priya retorted. “You cannot drink heartily and plentifully, then refrain from relieving yourself. The weight of so much liquid will be too much even for you.” Matilda blinked, taking a moment to consider, then laughed aloud and clapped a hand on Priya’s shoulder. “That is a new one!” she declared. “Very well, I accept your challenge! Come, let us visit the tavern and I will show you how much beer I can hold!” So saying, Matilda led Priya to the tavern, a cheerfully raucous establishment where she seemed to be known to staff and patrons alike. She bought Priya a beer and had several bought for her, and as the late afternoon slipped into evening she downed glass after glass until her shirt pulled tight across her stomach, bloated as it was with all that she’d drunk. “Ahh,” she sighed, patting her stomach in unconcern. “I think that’s plenty, don’t you?” Priya smiled and agreed. Matilda wasn’t feeling the strain of so much beer just yet, but inevitably all that remained in her stomach would move downwards in time. Apologetically, she made to leave, needing to find a room she could rent for the night; but upon hearing she had nowhere to stay, Matilda immediately offered up a room in the house on her farm. “I won’t hear it,” she said when Priya tried to politely demur. “And anyway, this way you’ll be close by to see me win your challenge.” And so Matilda led Priya back to her house, where she made up a bed in a spare room for her. Priya had a hard time falling asleep that night. Thoughts of Matilda consumed her; of her beauty, of her strength, of exploring those muscles with her own hands, and of the knowledge that just on the other side of the wall her bladder was slowly filling. Her body burned with desire and she ached to touch herself; but, not knowing if she would be heard, she forced herself to lie still and eventually drifted off to sleep. She was woken in the morning by the sound of activity downstairs. She got up, used the bathroom, and wandered down, finding Matilda making breakfast in the kitchen. “Good morning!” her host called to her as she entered the room, turning to face her. Priya nearly choked in surprise. Matilda’s stomach had returned to its usual shape - at least in part. The lower area, however, was if anything swollen even larger, a huge bulge stretching almost up to her navel. Priya had never seen anyone with a bladder so full, had never thought that such a thing could be possible. Matilda, she thought, truly was the strongest person in the land. Matilda laughed. “Looks like a lot, doesn’t it!” She laid a hand on her bladder, somehow not even flinching at the touch. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this full before. But it’s nothing I can’t handle, so I guess I’ve beaten your challenge.” “I-it’s not over yet,” Priya blurted, unthinking. “Oh?” Matilda asked. “I didn’t say you would lose overnight,” she said, mind scrambling to catch up to her mouth. “Only that, in time, it would be too much for you.” “Ha!” Matilda laughed, boisterous and loud. “And here I’ve filled myself with beer right away. Very well then, the challenge continues!” And, incredibly, continue Matilda did. Priya could not fathom how she could act normally, as desperate as she must have been, but somehow she managed; Priya watched from the shade as she headed out to tend the fields and care for the animals, drinking water to fend off the summer’s heat without so much as a hitch in her step. But, strong though she was, Matilda’s body could only hold so much, and slowly the effort mounted. Priya first noticed it the evening of that same day, that Matilda now stood with her legs pressed firmly together; and she watched as over the following days Matilda’s desperation grew. By the middle of the second day, her legs crossed over one another whenever they could; Priya rose on the third to find her shaking and bouncing in place, escalating quickly to a full dance of desperation; and when that evening Matilda suddenly gasped and her hand shot down to grab between her legs, Priya knew the end was near. She worried, as she lay down to sleep that night, that Matilda might lose control as she slept, causing her to miss the spectacle; but she put her faith in her strength to last the night, forced down the images her brain conjured up of that spectacle that made her body burn with lust, and slept. And then woke, bright and early. Matilda, for once, was not in the kitchen when she descended the stairs, so she made herself a simple breakfast. Even after she finished it there was no sign of Matilda, so she ascended the stairs once more and, for the first time, entered her host’s room. Inside, Matilda lay curled up on her bed; her arms were thrust between her legs, and her entire body was quivering. She had not changed or removed her clothes since the previous day, and did not seem to notice Priya’s entry. She simply continued to lie there, quiet noises of effort or need slipping from her. Priya approached her and lay a hand on her shoulder, causing her to jerk violently in shock. Her head turned just far enough to look up at Priya. “I can’t hold it,” she gasped, tears welling up in her eyes. “Yes you can,” Priya told her firmly. “Are you not the strongest woman in the land? Have you not overcome every task put before you? Show me that strength now; hold back the flood within you and stand up.” “I…” Matilda began, her voice wavering, and Priya wondered if it was about to end. But then her face firmed with resolve, and her voice - though still shaking - was more confident when she continued, “You’re right. You’re right. I can do this. I-” her breath hitched, panic flashing in her eyes as a wave of desperation hit her, but she held on. “I can.” Slowly, agonizingly, she shifted towards the edge of her bed. Without ever removing her hands from their iron grip, she swung her legs over the edge, shuffled forwards, and half-fell into a half-upright state, standing hunched over to more easily hold herself. The swell of her bladder was even more enormous than had first shocked Priya; while it had never grown as much as that first day, since she had had less to drink since then, it had still continued to expand. Priya was not sure what she wanted more: To see how far it could expand, or to see the moment its limit was finally reached. Matilda shuffled slowly forward, Priya half-carrying her - no small feat, for she was tall and not light about it. Each stair, when they finally reached them, drew a new agonized noise from her, and after each one she had to stop to recover her strength. But eventually she made it down all of them, and together they slowly made their way into the kitchen. Priya extricated herself from Matilda and stood back to watch. Matilda didn’t react, nor did she move to do anything; not an iota of focus had she for ought but the task of keeping her long-held waters at bay. Shudders and spasms wracked her body, desperate noises spilling freely from her mouth without concern for her audience. The end, when it came, was quick. Matilda’s breath hitched and she went completely still; after a long second of frozen nothing wetness bloomed on her trousers, what might have been only a tiny leak on anyone else soaking them down to the knees. Suddenly she lunged into motion, releasing her arms as she lunged at the door leading outside, which was rent from its hinges in a single motion as she tried to open it. Priya rushed after her as she exited, and so was there to watch as she tore her trousers to pieces in a failed attempt to lower them, then - not even able to squat down - finally, finally lost control. A torrent of urine sprayed from her with force to rival a crashing waterfall, soaking an enormous patch of soil in front of her; stray rivulets ran down her bare legs to the ground at her feet. Her entire body sagged with visible relief as her tense muscles relaxed, and heedless of her audience she moaned aloud. It went on and on, Matilda giving gasps and incoherent noises of relief the whole while; Priya began to wonder if it would go on forever, and continued to wonder as it failed to stop. But eventually, after a time Priya couldn’t even begin to guess at, Matilda’s bladder began to run empty. The flood slowed to a stream that was merely strong by a normal person’s standards, then finally ceased altogether. She didn’t move; just stood there, breathing heavily, looking at the enormous puddle she had created. “Wow,” croaked Priya, whose throat felt very dry as all moisture in her body seemed to have moved between her own legs. She certainly hoped her room’s walls would block sound, because she knew with certainty that she would be unable to restrain herself that night - assuming Matilda didn’t kick her out first. Matilda herself looked up at Priya with something like surprise, as though she’d completely forgotten she was there. “I… guess I won.” Matilda’s surprise melted into characteristic cheer, and she turned to face Priya; Priya tried very hard to avoid looking at her naked lower half, and failed. “This time!” she said. “I don’t always get it first try; sometimes I have to work up to a challenge. And all that drinking the first night can’t have helped.” “You’re…” Priya wasn’t sure what she’d done to deserve this, but whatever it was she needed to start doing it more often. “You’re going to do that again?” “Sure,” Matilda grinned, and then glanced back at the puddle. “Well, hopefully not that, but I’ll keep trying as long as it takes.” And Matilda was as good as her word. Over the following weeks and months, Matilda tried again, and again, and again, pushing herself and her bladder to greater extremes each time. Matilda’s desperation became a common sight in the town, people soon politely avoiding mention of her body language and swollen stomach. She refused to ever wet herself in public, at least; usually Priya ran any errands she needed as she approached her limits so she could stay at the farm, though a few times she had to go out in person and would hobble home only to burst hours or minutes or even seconds after returning. All of that was reason enough to enjoy her time there, but Priya also found herself enjoying Matilda’s company. She was smart, and kind, and funny; the two of them would spend hours talking and not even notice the time’s passage. Matilda, for her part, seemed to enjoy Priya’s company as well; Priya started to cook for them more often once she saw how much Matilda enjoyed what she made, and the house gained a population of the little things she liked to make, wood carvings and clay sculptures and whatever else gave her something to do with her hands. The two of them settled into living together almost without realizing they were doing so. And then, a year and a day after they first met, Priya was startled when Matilda burst into the room and swept her up off her feet into a hug, spinning her completely around before coming to a stop. “Marry me,” she said, breathless with excitement. “...What?” asked Priya, sure she must have somehow misheard. “I joked I would marry the person who brought me a challenge I could not overcome, and you gave me one that may remain beyond my strength as long as I live,” Matilda said. “And more importantly, I love you, Priya. I’ve known it for months, that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I think you feel the same way. Don’t you?” In lieu of an answer, Priya leaned up and kissed her. The two of them were wed a few months later, in a ceremony throughout which Matilda quivered with nerves and desperation alike, dress stretched over her bloated abdomen. And for the rest of their days she would hold, and lose, and hold again, ever pushing herself just that little bit further. And they lived happily ever after.

see, that's what people are saying. that that's not a contradiction in terms. because asexual people can enjoy sexual things, up to and including actual sex. so there's no irony there.