Quackduck

The desperation was my favorite part by far. I loved her pee dance

Part 9 I farted a lot during that shower. My tummy rumbled and groaned, and as I stepped out, I realized I needed to poop. “Dammit…” I muttered. Bailey was about to shower, so I couldn’t void my bowels yet. I wrapped myself in a towel and left the bathroom, getting smacked in the face with the sight of Bailey’s bare ass. “Whoa, what the hell!?” I shielded my eyes, but I saw everything. She stood in front of the sink wiping her legs down with wet paper towels. She laughed hysterically while I rushed to my room. “You were taking too long!” she shouted after me. I flopped belly down on the mattress, jostling the waste around in my gut. “Ughhh!” I groaned into my pillow, welling up with humiliation. Why doesn’t she have any shame? How does she go about life like this? I felt like I was being tortured with embarrassment. The memory of my sopping wet pajama pants lingered against my legs. I would never wear them again. I put on another set of pajamas. My tummy rumbled with discomfort and sent a long, squeaky fart out of my bottom. I sat up and went over to my door. “Bailey?” I called, fully aware of the absurdity of having to do this. “A-Are you dressed?” No answer. I patted my butt and shifted side to side, the urgency rising steadily. I cracked the door and peeked out, seeing the bathroom door still ajar. Was she in the shower yet or what? “You in your room?” I nervously asked. Again, I was met with silence. I furrowed my brow. Was she ignoring me? I really needed to use the toilet. An airy fart sputtered out of me. I pushed the bathroom door open… “Boo!” she jumped out at me, a towel wrapped around her waist. It nearly startled the shit out of me. “I got you!” she cackled, punching me in the arm. “Yeah…” I forced a chuckle. I could feel in my face that I was still burning up with embarrassment just by seeing her again. “What’re you doing in here, you wanted to see my butt again?” “N-No!” “Was that a fart I heard? Do you need to take a dump before I…” “Oh my god!” I said annoyedly, storming back to my room. “I’m just messing with you!” she laughed. “I’ll be quick, don’t worry!” “Ughhh…” I was so mortified. I sat at the edge of my bed with my head in my hands, trying to come up with a distraction for these unbearable memories I’d made today. My body gave it to me. Waste matter moved through me and made me squirm. My tight gut groaned and bubbled with discomfort and urgency. Over the next twenty minutes, I bounced off the walls of my room, cradling my worsening urge to relieve myself. On top of that, a need to piss surfaced, testing my urethral muscles, which at this point were exhausted to the point of near uselessness. I wasn’t bursting, but I could feel that I was on the brink of leakage. I sat in my desk chair, legs tightly crossed and rocking back and forth while I tried to focus on a book. “Goddd, hurry up Baileyyy…” I groaned, gas cramping through my insides. I gripped my crotch and farted, the pressure causing me to spurt. “Hnngh!” I lurched forward, rubbing my pussy and scooting around. The pressure refused to subside, and I intensified my potty dance, bouncing on my butt and grabbing at myself. The forceful contact with the seat radiated through the contents of my bloated gut and worsened the sensation of desperation, but it kept me contained and that’s what’s important. I stood up and crossed my legs, writhing my hips around and holding myself from both ends. I hobbled awkwardly over to my door to check if the bathroom was open yet, but a knock startled a bit of urine out of me. I cringed and bit into my knuckles in agony, doubling over as I struggled to keep everything inside. “Hey, can I come in?” she asked. “Uh- n-not yet!” I said, trying to compose myself. It wasn’t working. I needed to empty my bladder right away before I leaked any more, and my swollen gut made me feel like I was about to explode. “I-I just wanted to… apologize…” she stifled a giggle. “I’m sorry, I really am! It was weird and gross, and I told you I wouldn’t fart on you anymore, and that was pretty much the same thing even though it was a total accident…” She went on and on and I could barely listen. I was dying. I high stepped around and patted my butt with the hand that wasn’t squeezing my crotch. I sat down on my hands and squirmed, jiggling and writhing. My bloated rectum pulsated with pressure. I had to fart again, but I was afraid of another spurt, and I doubted my ability to stop it before it became a full blown accident. She stopped mid-sentence.“Hey, you sure you’re okay?” “Y-Yes!” I said, squirming like mad. The end of my waste was pressing against my exit and I was straining my entire being to retract it. “I-I’m gonna come in…” she said, opening the door. “Nooo…” I groaned miserably, struggling to compose myself. I must’ve looked like a mess. I took my hands away from my butt and squeezed the blanket on either side of me. As the waste continued trying to force it’s way out, the only way to keep it at bay was to clench my butt and arch my back, and I found myself desperately dancing right in front of her. Her eyes widened, her eyebrows curling with sympathy. “Whoa, dude,” she chuckled. “I didn’t know you… Just go!” she stepped aside for me to go past. My eyes welled up with tears. “I told you not to come in!” I sobbed, my hands shooting to my crotch as I started to leak again. “Just go pee! Or… whatever, just hurry!” I bolted past her, tears streaming down my beet-red cheeks. I slammed the door and turned on the fan, frantically jumping and squirming while I untied my pajama bottoms. I welled up with panic as gas started to force it’s way out despite my clenched muscles, liquid seeping out of me and leaking down my inner thighs. I ripped my pants down to my knees and sat down. Immediately, I exploded from both ends, urine streaming out in a powerful jet and waste leaving my deflating belly at a breakneck pace. I almost moaned. The relief was overwhelming. I shuddered with euphoria as several pounds of waste finally left my tortured insides. I still cried tears of embarrassment, even through the bliss. I was so humiliated and angry at Bailey, I wasn’t sure how I could ever face her again after this. When I had been sufficiently emptied, and I’d wiped, flushed, and washed my hands, I went straight to my room without a word, where I spent the rest of the day in inner turmoil.

Part 8 I was sitting on the couch on my phone after my “accident,” freshly showered. A pocket of gas rumbled through my insides, settling against my butthole. I lifted my butt and let out a long fart, feeling the heat bloom under my ass. Almost immediately after, the sound of someone slamming against the front door startled me. “Jesus!” I swore in annoyance, hurriedly fanning the air around my bottom. Bailey was fumbling with her keys outside, frantically by the sound of it. “Oh my god!” I heard her whine. She’s often desperate, but she sounded like she was in really bad shape. She burst into the apartment like a bat out of hell, dropping her keys on the ground and slamming the door. She put her foot up on the back of the couch, untying her shoe with the hand that wasn’t squeezing and rubbing her crotch. “Holy fuck I’m gonna pee!” she said breathlessly, jerking her butt around. “Forget your shoes! Just get to the bathroom!” “Why are you wearing your jammies?” she asked me, jiggling around. “Uh…” I looked down at my big shirt and sweatpants. It was only 5:30. “Just wanted to be comfy.” Another toot moved downward in my insides, and I had to clench to keep that one at bay. She suddenly stuck her butt out behind her and buried her hands between her legs. “Ooof…” she groaned, cringing hard. She took a few seconds to steel herself before hobbling, bent at the hips, to sit on the couch. After a few scoots, she bent forward to untie the other shoe. She shot back upright with a squeal, intensifying her potty dance even more. “Dude, you need to just run to the bathroom,” I said. “What if you wet the couch again?” “Hey, I’m not takin’ bathroom advice from you after last night,” she laughed, squirming around crazily as she put her other foot up on her knee and untied the shoe. My breath caught in my throat and my eyes started to well up with tears. She paused and looked up. “Wait- I-I didn’t mean…” “It’s good! You’re good!” I hurriedly stopped her, my face burning so red I felt like it was catching fire. Bailey pulled her laces loose and gyrated her hips, cringing with discomfort. She inhaled sharply and cradled her bladder when she pulled the other shoe off, immediately sticking her hands down the front of her pants. “Dude, I didn’t even realize I pee’d a little!” she laughed. “Ew, that’s disgusting!” She held her hand up at me. “I have the force now.” My heart dropped. “No. Bailey, do not fucking-“ She giggled. Hand outstretched, the other still in her underwear tightly holding her crotch, she got up and started coming towards me. She crossed her legs with each step, her bladder nearly rendering her immobile. “Stop! No!” I screamed, standing up on the couch and cowering against the wall. “It’s supposed to be that you licked your hand, you weirdo!” She chased me across the apartment and cornered me in the kitchen. She suddenly gasped and doubled over, squeezing her crotch and dancing frantically. “At least take your hand out of your pants!” “Hnngh! Ohh my god!” she whined and whimpered, twisting and writhing. “Please go to the bathroom!” I demanded. “Please!” She stepped forward, so close that I could see that her hand was actually wet. I jumped backwards up onto the counter, knocking into a bunch of dishes that clattered around loudly. She seemed to find that pretty funny. She busted out laughing, jerking around uncontrollably. She trembled from head to toe, grabbing madly at herself. “Bailey, what are you doing!?” I groaned miserably. “You’re gonna make a mess!” “Hah- I got- I can’t-!” she whined breathlessly. “I-It’s too late!” “What!?” She laughed even harder as a dark patch bloomed between her legs, streaking down her inner thighs almost immediately. She doubled over and leaned on her knees, urine leaking from her butt directly onto the ground. It splattered at her feet in the foaming, rapidly growing puddle of urine on the kitchen floor. “Ewww…” I cringed and tried to climb up higher onto the table, holding my breath to keep from gagging. “I’m sorry!” she was still laughing hard. She fell on her butt and cackled, spreading her legs more. She was drenched. The pee puddle reached all the way to the base of the counter I was on, effectively trapping me. My arms shook with exertion. I couldn’t hold myself up there much longer. “Clean it up!” I yelled, smelling the foul odor of urine on the inhale. I gagged. “I can’t I’m still going!” she sighed, then giggled some more. “I needed a shower anyway. Oh my god, it’s really not stoppinggg…” “Baileyyy…” I whimpered for help as a last resort as my arms gave out and I slid down to the floor. My bare feet made contact first, sliding forward and leaving me splattering butt-first into the hot, steaming piss. I gasped, cringing my shoulders up to my ears and tightening my hands into fists. “Oh my…” Hot liquid saturated my pants from my butt all the way to my ankles. I started shaking. “Ugh- Uhh-“ “This is really bad, huh?” she chuckled nervously. “Are you, like, okay?” I was frozen. I couldn’t move. My skin crawled and my heart was beating a mile a minute. “Alright, hold on…” Bailey got up, dripping with yellow liquid. “I’m sorry, okay? Let’s get you washed,” she was still laughing as she held her hand out to help me up, her fingers slick with pee. When I hesitated, she took it herself and pulled me up. My pajama pants were soaked. “B-Bailey…” “Yeah?” “I-I need to t-take a shower…” “Yeah, come on!” She held my hand the entire way to the bathroom. My soggy pajama pants slopped against the hardwood as the two of us tracked her liquid waste across the ground. “E-ew…” I muttered. “Hey, do you think you could leave the door unlocked? It’s not gonna take long to clean that up, and I really don’t wanna stay in these peepee clothes.” I looked at her blankly, still processing what just happened. “W-what?” “Like, can I just…” she motioned toward the shower. She laughed when I didn’t reply. “I mean, I know we’ve never done it, but w-we both got the same plumbing, y’know?” “I-I-“ My pants stuck warmly to my legs, starting to cool off. I fiddled with my waistband, eager to take them off. “I really gotta get these c-clothes off, Bailey…” She blinked. “O-okay, yeah, that’s cool.” She waddled bow-legged out of the bathroom, closing the door behind her. I shuddered as I sighed. Immediately, I tore my clothes off and stood under the ice-cold water. I couldn’t stop grimacing. My butt and my legs were pink from irritation. Irritated from the contents of Bailey’s bladder. That was so much pee I couldn’t believe it. It reached across the entire floor of the kitchen like it was creeping towards me on purpose, reaching for my feet. “Oh god…” I groaned, using more soap than I ever had in my life. I couldn’t get it out of my head. Not just the contact with her urine, or even the smell that lingered in my nose. It was her frantic squirming, and her unwillingness to tend to her body’s need. Her whines, her trembling, the way she held herself. The way she prioritized terrorizing me over solving this very easy problem. The extreme volume she was holding inside of her, coupled with the hysterical laughing, led to the daydreams I had earlier in the day becoming reality. It’s one thing when it’s in my head, or when it’s my pee, but this was the worst she’d ever done me. This was worse than the fart against my side. That being said, I realized in my humiliated stupor, my hand had wandered to my pussy, and I was almost tingly with excitement. “Jesus!” I covered my face with my hands like I was hiding. What was wrong with me!?

Nearly Peeing Somebody Else’s Bed Louise had a one night stand. She was completely naked, asleep on her belly. She stirred groggily, a night of drinking weighing heavily in her belly and even heavier in her bulging bladder. She groaned a bit and moved her hand to her crotch, squeezing her bare, wet pussy. On the back of her hand, she felt that the bedsheet was wet, too. She opened her eyes with realization that she was not in her own bed, she had no undergarments to catch her leakage, and the snoring guy next to her would probably not appreciate any more pee in his bed. “Oh fuck…” she muttered, sitting up carefully so as to not wake him. She gripped her crotch tightly, quietly wincing from the intense urgency radiating from the area. She got up and twisted her legs together, stumbling a bit from the hangover. She looked around for at her underwear and shorts, but male laundry was strewn around and made it impossible. “Ooh… Ohh…” she whined to herself, high stepping around the room searching for them. A hard spurt came out and trickled down her thighs. “Oh god!” she squeaked and dropped to her knees, looking with her hands while she bounced and writhed crazily against her heels. “Where are they!?” she hissed, racking her brain for the fuzzy memory of getting undressed. She glanced at her sleeping date to make sure he was still a sleep. He was, but seemed to be stirring with awareness of her noise. “Hnngh-!” a virulent jolt of piss desperation hit her and she stuck her butt out, squirting a substantial amount of urine onto the laundry she was kneeling over. Tears welled up in her eyes as she shamefully dried herself with a shirt under her. Her bladder felt like it was about to explode. She rubbed madly at her groin, rocking back and forth before deciding to sprint to the toilet clothed or not. This was an emergency. She leapt to the door, unlocked it, and opened it. A hallway, three doors, one cracked. She could run down there and try that one… “Hey…” he muttered. “Hi!” Louise squeaked, spurting hard down her legs for a second. She gripped her crotch and writhed on the spot, her tight bladder aching badly with fullness. “I-I-“ she stuttered, unable to control herself. She squirmed crazily, contorting and jolting her body around in desperate motion to retain her urine. There was so much of it pent up inside her that her bladder bulged out like a melon, liquid seeping out slowly but erratically. Her cheeks burned pink with embarrassment, causing her to hide her face with one hand while the other tightly held her spurting girlhood. She started to sit up, rubbing his eyes. “You, uh… Gotta pee?” he chuckled. “I can’t find my sh-shorts!” she stuttered breathlessly, laughing nervously. “I think…” he started flipping the blankets around, revealing not only the wet spot Louise had made on her sheets, but also her baby blue undies and her jean shorts. She practically leapt across the room at her panties. As she lifted her leg up to step into them, a spurt of piss shot out. “Mmmmph!” she moaned, lurching forward in agony. “Whoa!” his eyes opened wide. “You gonna make it?” “M-My shirt?” she got her shorts on but didn’t button them. A dark spot was slowly growing on her crotch. While he rustled the bedsheets, she stepped around frantically, shaking her hands at her sides. She inhaled sharply and bit the back of her hand, her bloated organ cramping with discomfort. “You can just grab one off the floor if you want to just go quick, you know.” She hesitated, but she really didn’t want to have an accident right in front of him. Bending over forced out a hard spurt. She grabbed the closest shirt and was down the hall before it was even fully on. “Hngh! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod…” she whined, leaking steadily as she approached. She slammed the door behind her and frantically tore her pants down, dribbling into them considerably before she was able to sit. Piss burst out of her so early that it splattered over the front of the toilet lid left a spot of yellow on the floor. “Hah! Ahhh…” Bliss. She shuddered with pee shivers. “Phew!” she rested her hand over her deflating belly, urine splattering powerfully into the bowl. She cringed a bit, remembering the show she just put on. She started drying her thighs and her underwear while she was still urinating. The damage on her underwear left it soggy, and her jean shorts were darkened from the crotch to the butt. “Fuck…” she muttered, wiping it as best she could. After the last of her piss left her bladder, she wiped and put a considerable amount of toilet paper in her underwear before she pulled her pants back up. Checking herself out in the mirror, she figured that it could be mistaken for a shadow in the right light. It wasn’t the worst off she’d ever been.

If I catch your next one in time I’ll leave some replies!

Part 7 Throughout the night, I kept groaning into my pillow and into my hands, wallowing in my misery and humiliation. I occasionally sat up just to stare out the window, counting things I saw to keep my mind off of it. I don’t usually do this, but I drank my entire water bottle before the night was over. I wasn’t that thirsty, just desperate for distractions. Sometimes I’d pace around my room. A couple times I went out to refill the bottle. I was laying there staring at the ceiling when daybreak started to shine through the window. I was bloated with liquid and badly needing to pee. We usually see each other in the mornings, but I decided I couldn’t face her. I left for work early. I wasn’t getting any shuteye anyway. I brushed my teeth and took a much needed piss as quietly as I could, did my makeup in the car and left. I didn’t realize what a mistake my water intake throughout the night was until the middle of the workday. My achy bladder had quickly become tight and full, pulsating against my waistband. I chewed my fingernails nervously, eyeing the clock. There were still several hours left before I could get home to my privacy of my toilet at home. Only an hour later, I was in terrible shape. I had my legs crossed tightly and I couldn’t sit still. I dreaded a public restroom, but I knew I needed to get it over with. To think that I could hold it for another four hours was totally unrealistic. I was stalling. I pulled my waistband away from my bladder with my thumb while I worked, gyrating my ass and tensing my thighs. I couldn’t get the thought of how many other people previously sat on what I was about to hover over, what probably got on the seat and was lazily wiped off of it. I shuddered. Then I cringed. My bladder was contracting, stretched taut with the huge volume of urine inside of me. I took a deep breath and got ready to go… “Hey,” Sanjay touched my arm, startling a bit of piss out of me. “Sorry!” he chuckled gently. “You okay?” “Y-yeah, what’s up?” my toes curled in distress. I needed to pee so badly. “Nothing, it’s just- and take this in the nicest way possible- you seem a little… off today. I just wanted to make sure you’re alright.” I squirmed in my seat. “A-Always, Sanj. Thanks for checking.” “Well, I just meant you’re always on time, and you’ve always had a great output... I’m letting you know it wouldn’t be a big deal if you felt like leaving early. I might head out a little early today, even. It’s pretty slow.” “O-okay…” I replied as he walked off. I was starting to break a sweat. I don’t think my pee holding muscles had fully bounced back from yesterday. The pressure from my bloated bladder was intense against my exhausted urethra, but maybe I could make it home and avoid that restroom entirely! I stayed for another fifteen minutes. By then, I was about to pop. I tapped my feet like crazy, scooting back and forth and side to side. I got my things together and walked tightly down to my car, wincing as I climbed in. I jiggled and fanned my legs as I pulled out of the spot and drove home. “Oh my god!” I complained out loud, grabbing my groin. My urine-filled organ was radiating great discomfort. Between the red lights and the slow drivers, it seemed the universe wanted me to have an accident. My urge to urinate increased exponentially throughout the drive. At one light, I unbuttoned and unzipped my khakis to ease the pressure, rubbing my fingers into my privates whenever I could. By the time I pulled into the complex, I was bouncing around with one hand permanently holding my pussy inside of my underwear, scooting madly and sweating bullets. I couldn’t stop whimpering and whining in my extreme discomfort. “F-fuck!” I cried, parking crookedly. “Come on!” I yelled at the seatbelt when it got stuck for a second. I leapt out of the car and didn’t even lock it, both hands gripping my crotch as I sprinted up to my door. I frantically hopped around and high stepped as I unlocked it, slamming it behind me and running through the house. I was seriously about to explode. I couldn’t believe how badly I needed to pee. It was impossible to even think. For the first time in quite a while, I wondered when Bailey has ever felt like this. With my limited mental performance, hindered by the blinding agony in my lower belly, I imagined she was enduring this feeling, too. How she’d look, how she’d squirm, how she’d talk… I ran into the bathroom and stopped in front of the mirror, looking at my desperate state. Oh god, am I doing this again? Alarm bells were going off. I was utterly dying to piss. My bulging organ stuck out of my body like I’d swallowed a watermelon, screaming to be emptied with such an extreme severity that I could barely stand. “I-I n-need to p-pee…!” I sobbed at my reflection, the waterworks in full force at this point. I yelped as I spurted hot piss directly into my squeezing hands, causing me to break into a delirious giggle fit. “Oh my f-fucking god!” I laughed, tears streaming down my bright red cheeks. Every squeeze and rub against my sensitive pussy lips was a tingling wave of euphoria in direct contrast to the insane ache just above it. “B-Baileyyy…” I whined, writhing and jerking around frantically. “I-I’m gonna p-pee my pantssss…” As the words left my lips, an explosion of urine burst into my hands, darkness blooming from my crotch and down my thighs. Hissing and splattering filled the room. The power of the stream drenched my pants down to my feet almost immediately. I gasped and moaned, the waves of pleasure nearly knocking me off of my feet. I was physically incapable of stemming the spouting torrent that gurgled into my hands, but it felt so good to keep my hands there. I wanted to feel the hot pee running through my fingers. My pussy was so easily stimulated right now. Still pissing at full force, not even close to being done, I leaned against the wall and dropped to my butt. Something about this much contact with my own urine… No, not my urine. Bailey’s. I bit my lip and rubbed my clit up and down, pee gurgling against my hand. Vertical turned to circles, and I pressed my free hand into the wet ground beside me. I shuddered and moaned, climaxing before my stream was even finished. I looked down at my drenched self, letting my tortured bladder spurt the rest of it’s contents into my fingers. The post-experience clarity where I realize how disgusting I’d been was minimal. I had never felt that good before. Don’t get me wrong. The contact with my urine wasn’t nearly as alluring as it was when I was desperate. The smell was especially bothering me. I cringed when I stood up, bow-legged, dripping with waste. My shoes squelched and my work clothes were ruined. I looked around at the foaming hot puddle of clearish-yellow all around me, shocked by the size of it. I had a mess to clean up.

Part 6 Later, I hesitantly made an appearance, praying to god she hadn’t detected anything. I casually sat next to her on the couch. She looked at me like she was ready to burst into a fit of laughter. “What!?” “You weren’t trying to be less weird about it! You just didn’t want me to know you just pooped in the bathroom!” she cackled. I stood there like a deer in headlights. I froze up. My face burned to my ears. “I-I didn’t-“ “Awe, my poor shy little bestie,” she hugged me and swayed me back and forth. “When’re you gonna be okay with your inner mechanisms?” she teased, patting my belly. “You were about to make me have an accident trying to keep me out of there, you know that?” I felt like dying. “W-What makes you s-say that?” “Oh, shush. I’m gonna make dinner tonight. I was thinking we’d get a bottle of wine and celebrate your long awaited return?” “Y-yeah, sure…” She lightly punched me in the arm and got up. “Okay, well, I’m gonna go to the store if you wanted to come with.” I wanted to curl up under my covers until the sun exploded. “I think I’ll hang back,” I said. “See ‘ya later, then,” she said, swinging her pocketbook over her shoulder as she opened the door. “You better not still be acting weird when I get back!” “How am I-“ I started, but the door shut. “Ughhh!” I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Why is everything so embarrassing!?” I wondered out loud, frustration and humiliation burning inside me. I paced around the apartment, stressing about how I was going to act when she returned. A night back with Bailey sounded nice. I can’t let my neuroticism ruin it. I needed to get a grip. I stood in front of the mirror and took a deep breath. “I need to use the bathroom,” I said. This felt so stupid. I realized it wasn’t even a lie. I kind of needed to pee. “I need to p-pee.” I saw my cheeks flush in real time. “I have to piss!” I continued, cringing at myself. “I have to piss really badly…” I trailed off, unable to completely finish the thought. I took another deep breath, leaning forward onto my hands. “I have to… poop.” I gulped. “I need to poop. Bailey, I really… ahem… I really have to poop. I have to poop now.” I couldn’t tell if this was helping. I thought that maybe the missing element was genuineness. I decided not to pee. I filled and drained my water bottle several times until I was full and fat with liquid. It sloshed around me as I moved. It didn’t take long at all until I was starting to fidget, and by the time a half an hour went by I was full-on squirming. I imagined Bailey right next to me as I waited. Gotta pee? she’d ask me. Yeah, I’d respond confidently, openly grabbing my crotch. I wanted to make it to the end of the episode I was on, but I was starting to wonder if I couldn’t. I ended up needing to pee really, really badly. I was sitting on my heel, bouncing and writhing. I bit my bottom lip, rubbing my fingertips against my crotch. I squeezed and unsqueezed myself like my pussy was a stress ball. I imagined Bailey next to me again, and I froze up. I couldn’t dance anymore. I just sat there with an bursting bladder, sending urgent signals to be emptied. Gotta pee? Even to a figment of my imagination, I wanted to say no. I decided not to think about it. Just do it. I got up and ran to the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror as I squished my thighs together and marched in place. “I…” I stuttered. “I-I have to pee!” I blurted out. “I-It’s an emergency… It’s really bad! My b… phew… My bladder’s starting to hurt!” I was almost shocked at my appearance as I said these things. “Bailey, I-I really, really, really have to piss! A-and if I don’t get a toilet soon, I-I think I’m going to…” I heard the door start to unlock. Hurriedly, I shut the door and did a frenzied little dance as I undid my pants. As soon as I sat down, a laser thin stream of piss exploded into the bowl. “Hah! Phew!” I muttered, reveling in my blissful sensation of my deflating urinary organ. I cringed as I tightened up a little, making sure to slow my stream a little so she wouldn’t hear the hissing. “I’m home!” she called. I couldn’t even call back to her while I was in the bathroom. I sighed deeply in relief, realizing the further humiliation I’d have endured had she walked in on what I was doing. Once I’d been fully drained, I wiped, flushed, washed my hands and went out there. “Check it out,” she showed me a bottle of wine. I don’t know anything about wine. I acted as impressed as she seemed to want me to be as she described it. “Want a glass?” she asked, popping the cork. “Of course,” I sat at the kitchen island. I fiddled with my thumbs nervously, the embarrassment of before still weighing heavily on my mind. I was suddenly distracted by a croak lasting a couple of seconds that emanated from Bailey’s bubble butt. “Eww!” I groaned, putting my face in my hands. She laughed, pouring the glasses. She raised hers. “To the human body!” she toasted. “Yeah, okay,” I clinked my glass and took a sip. “Wow, this really is good.” “Right? I told you.” I sat in there while she cooked. My attempts to help were repeatedly shut down. “Sit down, sit down, sit down! I’m makin’ it for you!” By the time it was finished, we’d each gone through two and a half glasses of wine. “We finished the bottle before we even got the food,” I smirked. “Don’t worry, there’s another.” I laughed. My unusually high liquid intake had filled my belly considerably. As I ate and bloated myself even more, an urge to piss started to rapidly form again. I decided I’d wait until after dinner to break the seal, but she opened the second bottle and we ended up sitting there for quite a while, talking and laughing with empty plates. In my wine-drunk stupor, I suddenly realized I badly had to pee when a particularly intense pang of urgency tore through my senses. The pressure of a desperately engorged bladder was against my tired urethra. I wasn’t sure how much more abuse my bladder muscles could take. She got up and stretched. “What say we take this party to the couch?” Here was my opportunity. “Sounds good,” I said, getting ready to hurry to the toilet. “I’m just gonna take a wiz first so I don’t interrupt whatever we watch,” she said. Well, that was annoying. I didn’t realize how drunk I was until I stood up. I chuckled a bit while I brought the wine bottle to the couch and started to browse netflix. I cringed at hearing the powerful pitter of her stream of urine, the silent TV being no help. I started to wriggle, growing more uncomfortable by the moment. I had one hand tightly gripping my crotch while the other operated the remote. I heard a fart. After getting caught earlier today, I was not at all in the mood to feel curious about these things. Then I heard another, longer toot, followed by a plop. Shit! She’s stinking up the bathroom! I have to wait even longer! I was so uncomfortable by the time she flushed the toilet. My urinary muscles were already tired from before. My bladder was pounding, my legs shaking as I bounced my knees off of each other. I got my squirming and squeezes out of the way while I still had the privacy to do so. When I realized that this was the perfect opportunity to work on my boldness, I locked up with nervousness. I can’t just say “be right back.” I had to at least say “I have to go to the bathroom.” Baby steps, but steps nonetheless. Bailey came out of the bathroom and sat right next to me, jostling my bloated belly. “I’m so happy you’re back!” she hugged me, resting her face in the crook of my neck. This unexpected intimacy made my heart skip a beat, but I was too desperate to dwell on it. I hugged her back. “Me too, bestie.” She inched closer to me, pulling me in at the waist so that my legs were rested on her lap. “What are ya doin’?” I laughed nervously. She grabbed my cheeks and looked at me intensely. “Next time you go on a trip, can I come with you? I was going crazy here by myself!” “If you want to, you weirdo, but that was the most boring trip I’ve ever been on!” “I didn’t know what to do with myself! I got high all day ‘cause you weren’t here to get mad about the smell, I pee’d my pants ‘cause you weren’t here to tell me to go… I need you, man!” She poked me in the belly and I nearly lurched forward and squealed. The smallest trickle of urine had escaped into my underwear. The virulent urge to urinate pressed mercilessly against my exhausted urethra, and it took every fiber of my being not to grab my pussy for dear life at that moment. “Hey, you okay?” she asked, pulling away a bit. “Is this too close?” “N-no! I-I just…” Oh god. Here it is. “I h-have to…” I gulped, pressing my thighs together tightly. My bladder felt like it was about to explode. I could feel my hands start to shake with nervous anticipation. “What is it?” “I-I have to tell you something…” I stalled. She grabbed my hand. “You can tell me anything,” she reassured. I looked at her, finding myself totally speechless. I couldn’t even stutter. Then she kissed me. I held my breath and my eyes opened wide, my heart racing even faster. Her hand tightened around mine. I thought I was dreaming. With the last remaining functioning brain cells that weren’t paralyzed by nervousness, I squeezed my eyes shut and kissed her back. I felt the corner of her lip turn up in a smile. She was so calm and collected, so confident. Like we’d done this a thousand times before. For a minute, it was just me and her in the world. I was on a cloud. I noticed warmth blooming under my butt and I snapped from bliss to horror with the realization. I pulled away and looked down at my darkening crotch, straining my muscles to stop the flow. “Uhhh-“ I whined when I couldn’t do it, tears welling up in my eyes. I was peeing on Bailey. “Uh oh…” she said looking down, then looking back up at me with sympathetic eyes. I got off her and ran sobbing to the bathroom, piss spurting out of my clenched, aching urethra. It stained down my inner thighs as I dashed into the bathroom. I sat down on the toilet and allowed myself to completely piss my pants. I just didn’t have it in me to hold it any longer. Hot urine pooled at my butt and leaked down into the bowl, streaking the back of my thighs as well. I cried uncontrollably into my hands, shaking from head to toe. I’d never experienced humiliation at such an intensity before. I took a shower then ran into my room, tossing and turning sleeplessly all night.

Almost Losing It On The Subway Louise woke up the way she did every morning: with an urgently full bladder, overnight leakage having left enough moisture in her panties to stick them warmly against her pussy. She laid there for a while, not wanting to leave her cozy bed. Eventually, it became fruitless to toss and turn to ease her urinary discomfort. The discomfort was too intense. She kicked the blanket off and scooted to the edge of the bed, holding her crotch with the hand that wasn’t rubbing her eyes tiredly. She crossed her legs tightly and gyrated her hips around as she fed the fish on her nightstand. Then, with her hands between her thighs, she rushed to the bathroom. Urine began to seep into her undies while she was still several steps away, bursting explosively the moment she pulled them down and sat on the toilet. As she pee’d hard, sighing with relief, she dried her underwear as best she could. Despite not being on her period, she grabbed a pad to protect what she could of her clothes throughout the day, plus a couple squares of toilet paper to sit in the crotch of her pants. Later, Louise went to a coffee shop to do her homework. She drank a coffee in the first twenty minutes she was there, ending up spending another two hours at the table. Her bladder was pretty full by that point. She shifted in her seat a little as she chewed on her pencil in deep thought, anxious to be done with her homework so she could hurry up and piss. A tickle in her nose made her sneeze, squirting out a bit of pee into the toilet tissue in her panties. She picked up the pace, straining her nether regions and squishing her thighs together. As soon as she was finished, she hurriedly got her things together and rushed to the front. “Can I get the code for the restroom?” she asked. “Uh, it’s for customers only. Sorry,” replied the cashier. “But I got one when I got here!” “W-well, when you’re here for so long…” they glanced at their stern-looking manager within listening distance. “I can ring you up for another if you want?” She sighed and pursed her lips. “N-no thanks,” she said, pressing her thighs together. She rushed out of there. If she hurried she might be able to make the next train home, avoiding the pee tax on the public toilets. She really had to go, but she was somewhat confident in her ability to hold it for at least a train ride. The turnstile pressed against her belly as she went through and forced another hard spurt into her undies. She squeaked in discomfort, sticking her butt out and squeezing her crotch for a second. The pulsating urge to urinate was getting more serious with every leak she had. She made it to her gate just in time, without opportunity to use the facilities down there. As it took off, jostling the passengers (not to mention her urine swelled organ), she let out another dribbling stream of pee into her pants and wondered if she made the right choice. It had gotten exponentially harder to contain her liquid waste in the time it took to get over there. She hugged the pole, swaying and rubbing her legs together. Fiddling with her waistband, she even stepped around and bobbed up and down, her cheeks turning red with shame. It embarrassed her deeply, but there were moments of intense urgency when she really wouldn’t have been able to keep it in if she didn’t squirm. Louise’s bladder was tight and full, pounding with urgency. As the train came to a stop, her body forced a long spurt out that saturated the crotch of her pants and dribbled down her thigh. “Nnngh!” she whined, pressing her legs together sheepishly. The damage had definitely become visible now. She wasted no time when the doors opened, making a mad dash through the crowds of people. She bumped into someone, making her pee a bit more. She called out an apology while she strained her muscles, begging her urethra to stop. She had to pee so bad. Another dribble as she pushed through the turnstile. She was sweating, her desperation turning frantic. If she pissed her pants on the side of the road, she’d never recover. Walking into her roommate-filled apartment with soaked clothes is an experience she never wants to have. But as she walked hurriedly down the street, a drop or two leaking out of her every few moments, it was coming closer and closer to reality. She spotted her apartment building down the block and started running, hands on her inner thighs. She quickly stopped when the movement started forcing out spurts with every step, a dark patch growing rather obviously from her crotch to her bottom. Her eyes welled up with tears from the discomfort and humiliation. The first few stairs went okay. The next few had her urinating, making her stop in her tracks and lean against the railing to steel herself. “Oooh…” she groaned miserably, tears falling down her cheeks as her urethra stung and her screaming bladder contracted intensely. She could feel the warmth of her growing accident all the way to her butt. She wiped her face and proceeded carefully. By the time she reached her door, her legs were like jelly, trembling terribly beneath her. She rushed inside and made a beeline to the bathroom. “Hey, Louise!” her roommate greeted. “Hey!” she choked, pee starting to seep out. She burst into the bathroom and barely had time to shut the door before she started seriously leaking on herself again. The dark patch turned huge as she struggled with her button. “P-please!” she begged, twisting up like a pretzel, her hands trembling. The darkness started to streak down her inner legs. She tore her pants down to her thighs just enough to sit down and explode. “Ahh- hahh-“ she bit her lip, closing her eyes as her bladder pain receded and was replaced with body trembling euphoria. The weird thing was, she felt wet warmth seeping through the fabric against her thighs. She gasped, her hard stream faltering as she frantically wriggled her khaki’s down and away from her spouting urine. She had completely soiled the butt of her pants. “Fuck…” she swore, still urinating powerfully. “Hey, you okay?” someone knocked on the door. “Y-yeah, fine! I just really had to go,” she chuckled casually. “I thought you were crying! You scared me!” they laughed. Her stream gradually fettered off. She didn’t even bother wiping. Now, it was time for an almost weekly routine. She cringed as she pulled her soaked pants back up, lukewarm fabric pressing against her body. She ran the shower and stepped under it, lifting her shirt up and letting the water rinse away the smell of urine. Then, she pulled them off, wrung them out, and left them on the towel rack to dry while she showered. When she was done, in only a towel, she took her damp clothes back to her room.

Part 5 I had an early flight the next morning. A business trip that spanned three days. It ended up being a few of the busiest days I’d ever had in my life. It was the perfect distraction. My troubling fantasies were pushed out of my head, and by the time I was back in my hotel room the last night there, I was so burnt out and exhausted that I couldn’t only think about sleeping. Well, that and one other thing. Travel affects my body poorly. I hadn’t been able to void my bowels since I left. I could tell that I had to go. I could feel the weight in my gut. It just didn’t want to move, no matter how long I sat on the toilet. The next morning, it was pretty distracting. The fullness of my colon had been causing me genuine discomfort for the larger part of the day before. I granted myself ten minutes of fruitless toilet sitting in the morning before I went to catch my plane. I tried to skip breakfast so as to not pile anything else on top of it, but my flight got delayed and I ended up having some pizza. I stood in line to get on the plane, shifting side to side. I felt like I could go, but I’d felt this before. The constipation hits me as soon as I have the opportunity. I sat down in my seat and felt the matter inside me shift from the pressure on my backside. I grimaced, trying to keep my mind off of it. It was a short flight, one connection. My discomfort was fairly consistent until I was on the second plane, by which time I’d had a bag of chips and a coffee. I suspect the coffee. As soon as we were up in the air, my stomach began to turn. It gurgled audibly and my cheeks turned red. The strangers beside me didn’t react, but it kept happening, getting louder and longer. I got more uncomfortable as time went on, turning deeper shades of red. Urgent nausea blossomed in my tummy and the complaints reached an unprecedented volume. I wanted to cry. At one point, I genuinely thought I was going to puke. Luckily, I didn’t. The sensation translated to an urgent urge to pass gas. A large amount of it, from the feeling. My bloated gut growled and radiated nausea, causing me to squirm in my seat. Three day’s worth of waste was piled up inside me, suddenly wanting out really badly for the first time since I was home. I know it was serious when I considered using the airplane toilet, but by then the seatbelt light came on and plane started to land. Turbulence knocked us around. I clutched my belly and groaned inwardly, clenching my buttcheeks to keep another fart inside. The bump as we hit the ground nearly pushed some gas out on it’s own. I waited impatiently to be able to rush down the isle. As I waited for my luggage, I held my hands behind me to discreetly press against my rear end. Carrying heavy things wasn’t easy, either. I don’t think I’d ever made my way through an airport as quickly as I did trying to get to my car before I shit my pants. If I was back, I may as well make the ten minute drive to the privacy of my own home. I groaned when I sat down in the driver’s seat, practically scrambling to get my things in order. I bounced on my butt as I drove, moaning and complaining to myself the entire time. I felt it moving around in my gut. I let out a squeaky fart and felt the end of my waste press against the exit, causing me to strain and wink my tortured anus. “Oooh holy fuck!” I groaned, sitting on my hand and writhing madly. I cracked the window so I wouldn’t smell all the gas I was producing. As I neared my apartment building, a shocking amount of movement tore through my belly and left a screaming urge to shit. I inhaled sharply and clenched every muscle in my body, writhing into my seat. “Mmmmph!” I whined. I pulled into my parking spot and leapt out of the car, sprinting up to my apartment. I was sweating, hyperventilating, digging my fingertips in between my buttcheeks. I’d never needed to poop this badly in my entire life. I marched madly in place as I unlocked the door, jumping on the spot and squeezing my behind when the lock got stuck. “Come on!” I whimpered, tears welling up in my eyes. When I finally got it open, I made a beeline for the bathroom without shutting the door. With my waste already starting to poke out, I undid my pants as I ran so I could just jump onto the toilet. I exploded immediately, letting out a shuddering sigh into my cupped hands. As soon as I had pooped just enough to remove the danger of an accident, I hurriedly wiped, pulled my pants up, ran over to the front door, shut and locked it. “Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod…” I muttered as I rushed back to relief. Once again, I started going immediately after sitting down. It was the most relieving shit I’d ever taken. I left the fan on when I left the bathroom for obvious reasons. I went down to my car and got my luggage, leaving it in my room before I sat down on the couch. Less than five minutes later, there was a thud against the door, startling me. I heard the frantic handling of keys. I’ve heard this before. Bailey was desperate. My heart dropped, genuine dread welling up inside me. I was about to be humiliated. The bathroom that my roommate was about to bolt into stunk to high heaven, and I’m the only possible culprit. She busted into the apartment and looked surprised at my being there. “I didn’t realize you’d be home so early in the day!” she danced as she shut and locked the door. Then, as she kicked of her shoes, she winced and held her crotch and her butt, sticking her bottom out and writhing on the spot. “Oh my god, I’m about to mess myself! I’ve had to piss and shit for so long!” I cringed. “Can you not? I just got home.” “Okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I missed you!” I swear I could hear her stomach rumbling as she hugged me. “How was your trip? What’d you do?” All I did was work, but I might be able to keep her occupied long enough for the smell to dissipate. As I told her in the longest way possible, I just couldn’t stop glancing down at her twisted up legs. She bounced desperately on the spot, still squeezing tightly at her crotch and butt. I noticed her notice me. “I know it’s killing you not to tell me to use the bathroom right now,” she laughed. “N-no!” I hurriedly corrected. “W-well, It’s just… You’re always calling me weird for that, so…” She glanced at the toilet. “I guess I didn’t mean to call you weird. I do really have to go…” “Y-You told me you went to that new place up the street, though? On the phone?” “Yeah! It was really good, just a little expensive,” she sat down on her foot, swaying side to side and fiddling with her waistband. As she continued to talk, I couldn’t keep my mind off the way the fabric of her clothing must be so constraining to her busting insides. The poor thing just couldn’t sit still. “And I’ve been holding this since like noon!” she groaned, eyeing the bathroom. “I have to go crazy bad…” I fought to keep from cringing. “C-Can’t be worse than that accident you had.” Her eyes widened. “You feeling okay, babe?” she laughed. “I thought you’d be begging me to shut up.” I raised an eyebrow. “Would it have worked?” “Probably not. I feel like I’m about to explode!” she exclaimed the last word through her clenched teeth, intensifying her potty dance. I wanted to ask her why she was holding it, but I was afraid of arousing even further suspicion. I wasn’t prepared to return to this inner conflict so soon. This time, there was no denying it. Her stomach howled, a long, watery growl. “Oogh…” she clutched her midsection and leaned forward, resting her forehead on the couch in front of her. A moment later, she got up and rushed to the bathroom, still holding onto both ends. Her face was worried and visibly uncomfortable. She suddenly stopped in her tracks. “Oh, I got you something! Remind me,” she took off toward the bathroom. No, please… “What is it?” I called after her. “Uhh-“ she sounded hesitant. She came back and rifled through her bag, marching in place and squishing her thighs together. I could hear her holding her breath intermittently with the exertion, letting out little grunts and whimpers. She wiped sweat off her forehead and looked faster, gyrating her butt around. She got so animated that she dropped to her knees, squirming madly into her heel. “Oh my god, where is it?” she started pulling things out. I felt bad. I wanted to tell her it’s okay, just find it after. But my sensitive pride made me hold my tongue. In between searching, she would intermittently squeeze her crotch or her bottom for a second. She started bouncing, stopping after a little toot came out, leading her to arch her back and lurch forward. “Ooooh I’m gonna have a fucking accident…” She gasped in delight and pulled out a little box. She practically threw it at me and looked at me expectantly, dancing and fidgeting like crazy. I slowly unwrapped the box. “You’re so thoughtful, you really shouldn’t have,” I said. “Hurry up please,” she begged nervously. I heard her stomach growl again. I opened it up and took out a little wooden music box. My jaw dropped. I was genuinely touched. Inscribed on the side of it was the name of my favorite piece of music, something I didn’t even realize she knew. She smiled. “I knew you’d like it!” Suddenly, her smile turned to panic and she inhaled sharply, her hands shooting to her privates. As she tried to sit there and hold it for a couple of seconds, I could see her legs tremble and her hips jolt. She squealed and leapt up, sprinting to the bathroom. She slammed the door, then the toilet lid. The next sound I heard made me drop the box into my lap and cover my ears. An explosion of waste and a moan. I ran to my room and closed the door, pacing with nervousness. I hoped to god it wasn’t obvious what I had just done in there. I told myself that I’d stalled her for plenty of time, but the thought of somebody else not just knowing what I did, but also sitting in there with the smell… The sound I’d heard wouldn’t leave my ears and I wanted to gag. My tummy swirled with nausea and stress. I’d never heard such a sound emitted from anyone else. It was almost worse than getting farted on. I did my best to distract myself.

My toilet exploration was getting dangerous. I almost completely messed myself just now. Now that I was in a neutral, comfortable state, the absurdity of my actions were clear. My desperation before entering the bathroom was unavoidable, as far as I was concerned. But holding it in the shower was just… bizarre. Why was it so fun to push my boundaries? What about this was I so fascinated by? I needed to figure this out somehow. Some google searches might be helpful, but I was worried about what I might find out about myself. I came to the possibly naive conclusion that this bout of strangeness may be alleviated should I witness the apex of all my shameful daydreams: Bailey, unbelievably desperate. It made a little sense. It was always what I tended to imagine, what drove me to prolong the discomfort that fueled my imagination. I saw her needing to go badly often, almost every day, but she always ran off at the last second. I needed her past that last second. Second turned to minute, turned to ten minutes, turned to a trembling, writhing mess of genuine, unbearable desperation… I snapped back to reality. To wish this on my best friend was totally cruel. I knew I could do nothing to orchestrate this. But if I only hung around her a bit more often, surely I’d witness something… right? Part 4 I recognized the awkward walk Bailey did on the way to the couch. This girl had to pee. After a minute of sitting still, she winced and jiggled for a second, then took a bite of her food and a sip of her drink. “Gotta piss!” she complained, rubbing her crotch for a second. I made a face. “Why don’t you go?” I asked. “Mmm…” she made a noise like she was thinking. With a worried grimace, she jerked her butt back in the seat and hurriedly started putting her things down next to her. “Hey, uh…” I started to say, scrambling my brain for some reason to get her to wait. “Can I show you something?” “Uh… Yeah,” she sounded surprised. I never share shows or videos with her. It’s always the other way around. I suddenly needed to find something to show her. She leaned back patiently, grabbing her food again. I wanted something long. Something she’d feel awkward about leaving halfway through. We didn’t always like the same content, though. “So…” I tried to buy time as I scrolled through, “I don’t know if you’re into this kind of thing…” She was wriggling side to side, watching the screen expectantly. “Documentaries?” It was practically the only thing recommended on my account. “Y-yeah, there was this cool one I saw…” “I like the animal ones,” she put her hand on her lap and gently pressed her fingers into her crotch. Her eyebrows furrowed nervously, coinciding with a change in sitting position. “This one’s about monkeys!” I put on the longest one I could find. She was looking down at her food and didn’t see the length. “Got to peeee,” she said under her breath. I watched her like a hawk through my peripheral vision as time went on. Her squirming got more and more animated, and her verbal complaints about her discomfort became more frequent. We were only about twenty minutes into it when she started genuinely grossing me out again. I know it’s contradictory, but I’m a confused girl at the moment. “My bladder, dude!” she said through her teeth. She scooted into the seat, grabbing and rubbing her crotch. She lurched forward and winced. “I’m gonna pisssss…” It got too much for me. “You’re being weird again!” I shielded the view of her with my hand. “I gotta go really bad,” she laughed. “This is super cool though,” she reassured me, and I realized she was trying not to interrupt what I was showing her with a bathroom break. This was perfect. Ten minutes after that, I saw her bare her teeth in discomfort and scoot her heel underneath her, wriggling and jiggling like mad. “Fuck…” she muttered, shifting in her seat every couple of seconds. At one point, she rested her hand on her belly, which was an expression of desperation I realized I’d completely unappreciated. She was cradling her aching bladder the way you would a sore muscle or a stubbed toe. She inhaled sharply, putting her hand to her mouth for a second. “I gotta fucking pee, dude,” she laughed, rubbing herself between the legs. Usually, I’d demand that she take care of it, but I was afraid she’d listen. “Oooh!” she groaned through clenched teeth, writhing in her seat. She pulled her shorts up to add pressure, giving herself a pretty visible cameltoe. Any reasonable human would simply ask to pause it if they cared this much about not interrupting. I was so lucky to have her. She pulled a blanket over herself, curled up on her side and stayed like that for a while. I was at first disappointed at her lack of movement, but when she moved I realized that her hands were down the front of her shorts and she was holding herself directly. I wanted to look away, tell her to stop, but I was so oddly excited. Ten minutes after that, she started kicking her legs and moving around erratically. She sat up, not taking her hands out of her pants. She was exceptionally shameless. “How much longer is this?” she asked, sounding strained. I felt a pang of guilt. “I dunno, do you want to pause? I wouldn’t mind.” “Uhh-“ I saw by the movement in the fabric that she was squeezing and unsqueezing herself with both hands, kneading her pussy desperately. “Ew!” I exclaimed, looking away and covering my face. “Sorry!” she chuckled. When I looked back, her hands were balled up by her stressed out looking face. She winced and jerked her legs closer together. “It seems like it’s almost over…” I was surprised by this response, and not just because it didn’t seem like that at all. I realized I might have a bigger part in taking care of her bodily needs than I thought. I’m always encouraging her to go, and now that I’m not… She crossed her legs and held them close to her, rocking back and forth. “Gottapeegottapeegottapeegottapee…” she muttered. She inhaled sharply and tensed up, her hands once again shooting to her crotch. She moved so that she was sitting on her knees and wriggled side to side, grunting and squeaking quietly. “My bladder…” she groaned, exasperated. I cringed, but I was enamored. Suddenly, the picture dropped in quality and it started buffering. I could see Bailey’s eyes light up with opportunity, both hands squeezing tightly. “Do you want a white claw? I’m gonna grab one real quick,” I said suddenly, getting up. She hesitated. “I probably shouldn’t, but I’m down,” she chuckled, scooting into her heel. “I’m gonna go…” “What flavor do you want?” I interrupted from the kitchen. “Uhh… Surprise me!” The show resumed the moment I got back. Bailey had stood up, but stopped in her tracks when she saw the TV. She crossed her legs and held herself as I handed her the drink. She hesitated, then sat back down on her foot. I couldn’t believe it. She was seriously still waiting. She had to be dying by now! Based solely her body language, she really was. The poor thing couldn’t stay still for a second. She must be holding back so much pee at this point, actively adding to it with the alcohol, on top of the dinner and drink she just finished. Five minutes later, she was constantly gripping herself tightly with both hands, writhing madly around. She brought her knees up, tossing them side to side, before putting one foot under her and scooting into her heel. Then, with a whimper, she lurched forward and brought the other foot up, bouncing and scooting like crazy. She wriggled side to side for a minute before she sat on her butt and parted her thighs, knees by her ears, and closely inspected her groin. She pulled upward on the fabric. “What are you doing!?” I said incredulously. “I have to pee so bad!” she whined like she was about to cry, holding herself while she kicked and thrashed her feet off of the couch. “I was checking for leaks…” It would be weird if I didn’t say it. “Why. Don’t. You. Go!?” “I don’t feel like it!” she sat back, watching TV, grabbing crazily at her pussy and tapping her feet. “Weirdo.” She winced and sat on her feet again. “You’re actually being less weird about it today,” she said as if it were a compliment. “What do you mean?” “I mean, you aren’t like ewww ew ew stop expressing basic human bodily functions! You’re jussssss- ooh-! Mmmph!” she lurched back and forth, holding herself and wriggling like crazy. “Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod-“ she covered her mouth and got up, one hand between her legs, and started to run to the bathroom. “There’s a difference between expression and obsession!” I hurriedly retorted. She spun around, stepping around and holding her crotch. “And what is that supposed to mean?” “I mean, you’re like obsessed with pee and farts and stuff!” I laughed. “It’s your only bit!” While I talked, she bit her lip and and writhed around on the spot. “It is not my only bit!” “It’s, like, your main bit.” “Well, I’m not doing a bit right now, I just have to pee!” “Well, we’re missing the monkey documentary.” “Oh shit!” she exclaimed, running over to see what was on the screen. “Go back after I pee!” she took off back toward the toilet. “How far?” She stopped in the doorway, jumping and squirming like crazy. “Let’sfigureitoutinaminute!” she said before she slammed the door. I paused the TV. I heard the slam of the toilet lid, a yelp from Bailey, an explosion of liquid splattering in the bowl, and a sigh in relief. My entire body tensed up and my first reflex was to resume the show and turn up the volume, but I refrained. I wondered how long she was going to pee for. As the hissing went on and on, reaching past the one minute mark, I dropped my jaw. Wow, she had to piss. I don’t even piss for this long. I hold when I can’t have total privacy, but she holds all the time for no reason. Her bladder must be so stretched, so experienced in retaining extreme volumes of liquid… As her stream tapered off, I realized my hand had wandered between my legs. I was tingly and excited. I wanted her to have kept holding it. I wanted her to come out here and… My hands shot to my mouth in shock. This avoidance turned fascination, this unexplained curiosity, the strange and revolting thoughts that I couldn’t get out of my head… It suddenly made so much sense. I didn’t know if I wanted to gag, cry, or go in my room and rub one out. It appeared I had a fetish.

Part 3 Bailey smirked at me as I reentered the kitchen. “What?” I asked. “You could have told me you just had to pee bad. I thought you were mad at me!” “I didn’t-“ I started to lie, as if I could get away with hiding my bodily functions after leaving the toilet. “Well, I am mad at you.” “Yeah, yeah,” she dismissed. I sat next to her and typed away on my own laptop. I felt gas bubbling up in my belly, getting ready to come out. Annoyedly, my butt was apparently not done. I didn’t let it out, obviously. It sat uncomfortably until my belly gurgled with it’s retreat. It later came back with more volume and urgency, causing me to shift in my seat a little trying to hold it in. At that moment, I heard a long rumbling noise. “Ugh!” I exclaimed, tensing my shoulders up to my ears. Bailey laughed. “Never gets old with you, dude.” She fanned the air in my direction. “Can you please stop!?” I plugged my nose and got up, moving to the other side of the kitchen. I’d taken my laptop with me so I could remain in safety. My own fart was writhing uncomfortably in my gut, wanting out pretty badly by this point. Why was I so gassy today!? While I recalled the things I’d eaten over the past day, the smallest temptation to get her back came to me. I imagined walking past casually, then pointing my butt right at her and letting it rip. This was an impossibly unrealistic daydream, but if it weren’t humiliating and revolting, it’d be pretty satisfying. She raised her bum off the seat and pushed out another long toot, sighing afterwards. I made a face and shook my head, feeling my skin crawl as she giggled. Then she let out a small one. “Dude!” I scolded and left the kitchen. “I don’t know why I’m farting so much, I’m sorry!” she called ingenuinely. The moment my door closed behind me, I relaxed my anus and passed wind silently for several seconds, the last of it coming out in short little spurts. Over the course of the next hour, my flatulence increased in frequency and I became nauseated. I dreaded the impending bathroom trip. If Bailey found out I was pooping, she’d probably find a way to mess with me. I laid on my stomach on my bed, taking deep breaths to soothe the turmoil in my tummy. I groaned at one point as a cramp tore through my gut, followed closely by fart so long and loud that I worried it was audible outside of my room. Overwhelmed with discomfort, I took a break from my computer and curled up into a ball. Almost immediately, Bailey knocked. I sat up casually, irritated by the poor timing. “Come in!” She poked her head in the door, holding a familiar pan of mac and cheese that we took home from a party ages ago. “You wanna split this with me? We’re finally at the end of it.” “Man, I’ve been eating that like every night these past few days!” I complained. “I know, but it’s such a waste to throw it out!” “Is it even still good?” I asked, putting my hand to my rumbling tummy. She sniffed it and shrugged. “Smells like mac and cheese.” I sighed. “Yeah, I’ll split it with you.” I just wanted her to leave. I needed to fart so bad. Instead she came in. “Okay, I just wanted to say one thing…” I cowered up against the headboard. She does this all the time. “Bailey, stop! Dude! No-“ She turned her butt toward me and let out one of the most foul sounds I’d ever heard emitted from the human body. Then she strutted out, presumably to heat up our dinner. I held my nose and rushed out of there gagging, forced to leave the only place I could relieve myself of my own gas. I should save the toilet for when the rest of it inevitably wants out. I did my best to hide my bellyache, but I allowed myself to grimace. “That was fucking disgusting. You told me you wouldn’t do that stuff anymore!” She gave me a weird look. “No I didn’t. I won’t press my butt against you when I do it, but I was like ten feet away from you.” “You ruined my entire room for the next five minutes.” She cackled. “You can skip calling the exterminator, then. Here,” she put a bowl of mac and cheese in front of me, then lifted her leg and let some air warble out of her. “Ugh, god!” I took my bowl to the living room. “You’re ruining my appetite!” “I really don’t know what’s wrong with me today!” I looked apprehensively at my food. “Do you think it’s the mac and cheese?” “That depends. Are you really gassy today, too?” “N-no…” “Must be something else, then. I had a gyro today.” The pocket of gas in my butt was being added to by the second. Hesitantly, I ate the mac and cheese. It tasted fine. But by the time I was halfway through the bowl, I felt like I was going to explode. “Ooh, I feel like I’m gonna shit myself,” Bailey sat criss cross on the couch beside me, bouncing her knees. My heart dropped. “Let’s please stop talking about this while we eat?” “I’m trying to hold it in but it’s so bad.” “Why don’t you just go!?” I squirmed in my own seat, clenching my butt to keep from tooting. “Well, not shit. Just a fart. I don’t wanna gross you out.” “You’re doing an awesome job so far.” “Thanks,” she winced. “I’m suffering just for you.” “Which console is set up for the TV?” I asked, desperate for a distraction. “Umm, I think none of them,” she said, putting her bowl to the side and going up the the TV to mess with the wires. She sat on her knees leaning forward, and her shorts were pulled down far enough so that I could see about an inch of her asscrack. I cringed and looked down at my food. I nervously ate, unwilling to look back up for a minute. I could still see her out of my peripheral vision. At that moment, my belly cramped and I fought to keep all of my gas inside of me. It took so much focus that by the time the urgency started to recede, I realized that I was absentmindedly staring at Bailey’s butt. She had leaned further forward and worsened the plumber’s crack. My stomach tightened (even more than it already was), but I didn’t look away this time. I don’t know what came over me. I just stared and admired her body. She really did have a nice ass. And for some reason, the thought of everything she was holding inside… I shook the thoughts out of my head. I found myself doing that a lot lately. She leaned back and bounced. “I gotta…” she trailed off as she finished hooking it up, then came back to the couch with me. “Okay. What do you want to watch?” As she asked me, it felt like one thousand pounds of waste suddenly dropped into my colon, swelling my belly and nearly causing an accident right there. I straightened my back and strained every muscle in my body. A barely audible “urk-“ left my throat, and in a moment, I was utterly desperate to shit. “I might, uh…” I swallowed. “I might take a shower.” “Oh damn, let me poop first.” “What!? You just said-“ “I lied! I didn’t want to gross you out.” “Well, I don’t want to shower right after you…” “I have to poop really bad!” she wriggled. “Just let me go quick, I’ll use the spray.” I shifted in the seat. My belly gurgled and churned with intense discomfort. “That stuff doesn’t work.” “Too bad. No way in hell can I hold this in for a whole shower,” she said, getting up and hurrying to the toilet. She held her butt the whole way there. I sighed, burying my face in my hands. The cold sweats were already setting in. I needed to go so badly. This mac and cheese fucked up my stomach big time. I fell on my side and cradled my belly, feeling even more waste moving through my insides and getting ready to come out. I held my bottom and writhed in agony, my nausea reaching an all time high. I sat up, but held but midsection and rocked back and forth. I groaned inwardly, fighting the urge to be sick. At least now I could fart, but I wanted to be in my room so I didn’t stink up anywhere that she might be soon. I held my butt and went doubled over back to my room, closing the door behind me. I relaxed slightly, letting air carefully seep out. Before I was done, I felt the end of it suddenly creeping it’s way out. I clenched my buttcheeks and squirmed crazily, desperately retracting the prairie dog back into my overcrowded insides. As per usual with my desperate stupors lately, I found myself comparing what I felt and what Bailey must had felt. By now, she was probably refreshed, voiding or void of her waste. I needed to relieve myself so unbelievably badly. I could barely even fart without an accident. This feeling was unbearable. I heard her leave the bathroom, but I couldn’t yet enter. The room was undoubtedly foul smelling. A few minutes should do the trick, but I’m honestly not confident my ability to hold it. I was on the brink. Oh my god, I needed to let it out soon. I couldn’t sit still and my skin was slick with sweat. My stomach was cramping intensely and constantly. A knock at my door. “Did you still want to watch something?” “Y-yeah, just let me shower first!” I shouted. “I wouldn’t go in there for a minute,” she laughed. “You know what? I could turn on the fan. Make it go faster.” “You never turned on the fan!?” I groaned, wriggling miserably. “What?” she asked. Unexpectedly, she poked her head in. “I didn’t hear what you said.” I only had a second to pretend like I wasn’t dying. “Uh- nothing! I didn’t say anything,” I gulped, hoping she couldn’t see that I was straining my entire lower half. “Okay weirdo.” As soon as she left, I took my shirt off and rolled around my bed in agonizing discomfort. I know it might seem like an absurd alternative to sitting in a stinky bathroom, but Bailey ruins the place. If she says not to go in there, I trust her. I’ve almost gotten sick from her gas alone, let alone an urgent bowel movement. Speaking of getting sick, I felt as though my dire situation was making me delirious. I couldn’t think about anything but the screaming urge in my gut, the intense nausea and my tortured muscles. I whined and started to cry, holding my booty with both hands. My anus dilated under the pressure, matter writhing inside me like a disgusting snake ready to burst out of my stomach like that thing from Alien. I knew she had to have been less desperate than this. This is completely unreal. We were probably totally in sync with our urges, on account of our diets consisting of the same likely expired mac and cheese. Had she kept holding, we’d be in the same boat. A whimpering, desperate mess. I wished I would have made her wait. I was seriously about to shit my pants. I want to see her in this state, see how she’d take it. Would she take it? I bet some people just let go when it gets too much. I wished I would’ve locked her out like I did yesterday. As I rolled around desperately, my only two thoughts were TOILET NOW and how did Bailey feel? I became so unhinged, I almost wished I had locked the door and shut us both out, leaving us dying to poop together. I wanted- no, I needed to see her potty dance again. A particularly intense wave. “Mmmph! Hnngh-“ I whined, squeezing my butt. I was in hell. I couldn’t take it anymore. My fattened tummy was about to burst open and I had never felt this urge at such a severity. I held my bottom as I scrambled out of my room and into the bathroom, where I plugged my nose and shut the door behind me. My final thought as I gripped my waistband was ‘Bailey thinks I’m going to shower…’ I reached over and turned the water on, then I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked dreadful. I was pale and sweaty, dancing desperately and holding myself. My belly was noticeably bigger. I felt like another second of holding would result in an accident, but I stood there squirming for a minute. I imagined I was Bailey, and this is what she felt like a minute ago. This was how distended with waste her belly was, and how close to disaster she had allowed herself to get. I took the rest of my clothes off and held my butt with both hands, waiting for no reason at all. The extreme pounding in my gut, begging me to relieve it, did not overpower my curiosity. I stepped under the water, still overfull of waste. I felt like I was about to die. I marched and twisted my legs up, biting my knuckles in pain. Except I wasn’t the one in pain. It was Bailey, waiting on the other side of the door. A daydream, of course, but this would honestly not be very hard to witness. Her tendency to hold for no reason is an almost constant occurrence. I couldn’t wait to see her desperate again. I felt so excited at the thought of her being in my predicament, this insane degree of urgency and discomfort, so much I was holding back… With another wave, I squealed and hopped in place. A small shit came out. I could do nothing about it, it just happened. I froze, holding myself and looking at the disgusting thing I just did. Once again, clarity came to the rescue, and I frantically sat down on the toilet. Immediately, I exploded. Hands cupped over my mouth and covered in goosebumps, I voided what felt like a hundred pounds. My bloated belly gradually deflated and I shuddered with relief. I hugged my knees and sighed blissfully. It felt so good to finally let it all out. My nausea disappeared as I sat there voiding my jam packed bowels. It was a conscious effort not to moan in ecstasy as what felt like an unrealistic amount of waste finally left my body.

Part 2 Having stopped to get a soda on the way to work, I was particularly uncomfortable by the end of the day. I watched the clock, because when 5:00 came, I would get to go home and use the toilet. I’ve only gone to the toilet at work one single time, an occurrence which has resulted in me cutting Taco Bell out of my diet completely. Since then, I haven’t had another bowel movement force me to focus on maintaining my composure while I hurried to the toilet, straining my buttcheeks the whole way. Today, however, it was a surplus of urine that left me squishing my thighs together, absentmindedly gyrating my butt in the seat. I suddenly became aware of other people and made myself stop. I chewed my fingernails nervously. It came in waves, and I held my breath when the urge got particularly intense. Finally, it got close enough to the end of the day, so I hurriedly powered my computer down and started gathering my stuff. “Hey,” someone greeted behind me. I glanced up. “Oh, hey Sanjay.” “Want a cupcake? There’s a bunch in the break room for Marge’s birthday.” I could think of a few reasons to skip that, but I ended up saying the opposite. “Yeah, sure.” Another thing I had been looking forward to was the walk to the car, where I thought I’d be able to release the pent up gas I’d accrued throughout the day. Instead, I was about to pile a cupcake on top of it all. I went into the break room, said hi, said happy birthday, and stood there shifting my weight between feet while I nibbled on my cupcake. Unexpectedly, the conversation was pretty active, and I was sucked in. Somebody showed up with a cooler of drinks and I ended up standing there socializing with my coworkers for almost thirty minutes before we started thinning out. My belly was bloated with pee and I had only added to it. Plus, I needed to fart so bad, but it was difficult to think of a worse place to do it. I was almost constantly stepping side to side. When I laughed, I lifted my knee up a little. My urge to urinate was so urgent by this point that I was having trouble of thinking of anything else, and although I was having a good time with those that were still around, I needed to get home to pee. “Well, I should probably get going,” I said as casually as I could, squishing my thighs together. There was a variety of farewells and I took my leave, grimacing the entire walk away. I pulled my tight khakis away from my swollen belly as I went down the stairs. While I walked to the car, another fart moved downward and got ready to leave. But with my need to pee at this level of urgency, I was honestly worried about my ability to keep it in if I did that. I needed the relief so badly, though. My stomach was making noises. Still, it was better than a damp crotch, so I held everything in. I sat in the car and wriggled into the seat as I put the seatbelt on, groaning at the way the lower one squished my bulging bladder. I sped home. When I was confident that I was out of view of other drivers, I held my crotch and scooted around. Another 15 minutes of writhing and squirming, too distracted to drive, struggling not to fart and leak. By the time I pulled in at the apartment, I was frantic. Urine and gas had me blown up like a balloon, breaking as sweat as I jiggled and danced in the seat. I ran up the stairs, marching and holding my crotch as I unlocked the door. I swung it open and stepped inside. “Hey,” Bailey greeted, sitting at her laptop at the kitchen island. “Hey,” I feigned a casual demeanor, stepping lightly inside and shutting the door behind me. My bladder was screaming and I was clenching my butt to keep the air in. “Come check this out,” she said. I groaned inwardly, ready to cry. I went over by her and watched her start a five minute youtube video. I didn’t like this kind of video. I’ve never expressed interest in this kind of video. I forced laughter every time she did, discreetly watching the red bar move forward. I bit my nails, crossing my legs and swaying my butt around. “Anyway, you don’t gotta watch the whole thing. I just thought you’d appreciate that.” Ignoring the absurdity in the second part of that, I hurried off to the toilet. I felt like my bladder was going to burst if I waited even another second. “Hey,” she said suddenly. I stopped and turned, clenching my teeth. “You okay?” “Y-Yeah, why? What?” “Nothing, you just seem… Off.” “No, I’m fine!” I took another step toward the bathroom. I was about to fart. Whether or not I wanted it to, it was about to come out. “Is this about last night? When I tooted on you, and then you stepped in my…” “No! No, it isn’t, I promise, let’s just… Never speak about either of those things again, okay?” “Oh my god, it is, isn’t it!?” she stood up. “Dude, I’m genuinely really sorry. I took it too far, it was weird.” “It’s okay!” My face turned red. “It’s… It’s okay, really.” “I mean, I meant what I said, though. I just don’t get what the big deal is. You know how many times my siblings have made me get farted on? And then I had these friends that were relentless…” “God, I… That’s terrible. I mean, what else would make you do the things you do, I guess.” “Shut up!” she laughed, punching me in the arm. My legs were starting to tremble. I needed the toilet so badly I could barely take it. Again, I turned around and rushed to the bathroom. The moment I shut the door, I frantically unbuttoned my pants, marching and squirming around. I started wondering how close my current experience was to Bailey’s experience last night, busting at the seams, unable to stay still. Hers was probably worse, on account of the mess she made. I hadn’t leaked at all. Although my frequent holding had granted me a bladder of steel, so I might not be the best comparison. I pondered this in front of the toilet, barely retaining all of my gas and liquid waste. I held myself from both ends and squirmed, imagining the times I’ve seen her squirm and writhe and attaching these sensations to it. I felt high. This was weirdly exciting. I took my pants and underwear off and kicked them to the side, holding myself and denying myself of the relief I was so close to. I decided to try to let some gas out without peeing like she did. I relaxed my butt carefully while I grabbed madly at myself, marching desperately around the bathroom. I tooted, a dry and airy fart that forced me into a new level of pee dance intensity. I rubbed and squeezed, danced and writhed. My bladder was still so full that it felt ready to explode, but I lifted a leg and let out another fart. This time, I spurted out into my hands, feeling hot piss gurgle into my hands. I squatted down onto my heel to hold it, scooting crazily into it. Urine was leaking down my inner thighs and dripping from my hands, and my burning urethra was screaming for further release. I realized was giggling. Trembling with desperation and discomfort, but somehow giddy as can be. It was at this moment that I felt as if I woke up. The reality of my waste all over my hands, spreading down my legs and leaking to my butt… It set in quickly. I got onto the toilet, urine bursting out the moment I sat down. I sighed deeply, relief overtaking me as I finally drained my bladder. Not soon after, I let out a number of long, airy farts that released a substantial amount of strain in my gut. I pee’d for forever. While the stream went on, I dried my hands and my thighs with toilet paper. I shuddered at my bizarre actions. I shrugged it off as mere curiosity and tried not to think about it. While I washed my hands, I let out a couple of long, hot farts. Then as I was leaving, I stood at the door while I waited for the gas to travel through my belly down to my butt. A long, choppy toot. I imagined I was sitting on Bailey, getting her back for last night. As I left the bathroom, I shook the thought out of my head and hoped my tank was empty.

Part One I was laying on the couch late one night. Past my phone in the corner of my vision, I noticed my roommate bouncing on her butt, shamelessly scooting into the couch. “What are you doing!?” I asked, shielding the display with my hand. “I gotta pee real bad,” she admitted immediately. “Then go!” “I’m almost done! Chill!” she leaned forward and typed faster, wriggling her behind. “Oh for fuck’s- I can’t even type right now! Ooh, my bladder is fulllll…” Her choice of words made my skin crawl. “Please go to the bathroom!” I whined, burying my face in my hands. “Dude, why are you always so weird about bathroom stuff?” “I am absolutely not the one that’s weird about bathroom stuff,” I retorted, looking at her now that she toned it down a little. “Well, we’re both a little weird. But you’re weird in some wacko, obsessive way that I can’t even understaannddd…” she lurched forward, burying her hands in her lap. I looked in the opposite direction. “It’s so gross when you act like this.” She got up and started toward the bathroom, pressing her fingertips into her crotch. “Dude, chill out. Everyone pees. Everyone poops. Everyone…” As she passed by me, she pressed her butt against the side of my body. “Farts!” I dropped my phone and froze. She was laughing hysterically. My hands started to tremble and I frantically pulled my sweatshirt off, throwing to the ground. I gagged, running to the bathroom and taking a shower. I stood under the water, leaning my head against the wall. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I wanted to crawl into a hole for the rest of my life. I was utterly unable to stop thinking about it. My mind just fixated on every revolting detail. The dry, bubbly pops against my arm. The way the warmth spread through the fabric of my clothes. The way the smell followed me all the way to the bathroom. I shuddered. Bailey teased me about toilet stuff pretty often, but this takes the cake. I couldn’t believe what she did to me. I’m always the butt end of her jokes. Even that unintended pun grossed me out. I ignored a knock at the bathroom door. She started banging loudly and didn’t stop until I said something. “Dude, our neighbors!” “You have to let me in, I’m gonna pee my pants!” she sounded genuinely panicked. “I’m naked!” “You’ve been in there forever, I’m dying!” She turned the knob frantically, pulling in vain. I’d locked it. “Please, I gotta go! I’m sorry I farted on you!” I heard her groaning and whining, plus thuds against the floor when she evidently started hopping around in desperation. “I’m dying, I’m dyinggg…” Her voice was getting choked. The door creaked. She must be leaning against it. “I feel like I’m about to explode!” I cringed. ‘Bladder, explode…’ Why did she have to talk like this? Why couldn’t she hide it behind ‘go’ or something? “Alright, I’m going, I’m going!” “Oooh, I’m leaking, I’m leaking…” she squeaked. “Ew!” I yelled at her as I cut off the water. I was a bit quicker than usual in getting dried and dressed, but I was too mad at her to rush. “Hurryyy…” she whimpered in between frantic, strained vocalizations. The moment I unlocked the door, she threw the door open and barreled past me. Her pants, already unbuttoned and unzipped, were down to her knees before her butt even made it to the toilet lid. As the sound of hissing and splattering filled the air, I clasped my hands around my ears and went to run out of the room, but I stepped in something that made me stop dead in my tracks. A warm puddle outside the door. It led into some drops leading up to the toilet. “Ahhhh…” Bailey moaned into her hands. She peeked at me, her face beet red. “I peed my pants again,” she admitted, sounding like she was about to laugh. Then she saw my foot and gasped, looking at me wide-eyed. “Uhhh-“ I groaned through clenched teeth. I started shaking with disgust. “It’s okay! Get-get back in the shower! Wash it off!” I could tell she was fighting not to break into laughter. But again, I was totally frozen. Plus, I couldn’t get any closer to her while she was still loudly peeing. What happened next was an out of body experience. I felt like I was about to pass out. My body walked stiffly through the puddle, not even trying to step over it. I tracked hot pee through the house and, trembling from head to toe, sat on the counter. I hesitated, noting the dishes in the sink, but I needed to do it. I swung my legs over and ran my feet under the water, using an excess of soap and letting the water get too hot. Between the fart and the puddle, I gagged and retched at the thoughts. I felt like I needed to scrub for the rest of my life, but I eventually just stormed to my room. That night, as I tried to sleep, I tossed and turned thinking of these things. I just couldn’t get them out of my head. Skin contact with the hot liquid that had just occupied my friend’s bladder was too much for me. “Ughhh!” I groaned, putting the pillow over my face. Again, I found my mind spiraling through the details I unfortunately pick up so many of. How it must have spurted out of Bailey’s peehole, despite her struggling, soaked her undies and cascaded down the denim of her jeans. The way it must have leaked out of the cuffs and collected at her dancing feet, trailing behind her as she frantically rushed to the toilet. I saw her butt flash for a split second. I wondered exactly how intense the urge to urinate was for her, if she let the pee out by choice to lessen her discomfort, or if her body released it in disobedience. I thought about the times when my own bladder was screaming for relief, a fairly often occurrence on account of my aversion to toilet discussion, and wondered how it compared. She pee’d so much for so long. I left before it had even begun to falter. I almost wish I would have went to the shower, simply to satisfy my curiosity about the volume of urine she was really retaining. I wonder… I sat upright. “What the fuck!?” I said out loud. The sensation to gag tickled the back of my throat. I had been nauseated by my own thoughts. I tried even harder to forget about this one. I literally tried counting sheep. But in my guts, a pocket of gas moved through my body and settled uncomfortably in my rectum. The large amount of it made it so I only had to relax to let it out. No pushing needed. It ripped dry and bubbly and warmed the booty of my pajama pants. It sounded exactly like my roommate’s. I felt as though the events of today were haunting me.

Thank you!

Hi! Any one of these would be greatly appreciated: Non-stop Full Bladder! Rosie’s About to Explode! Overhydrated Road Trip My Friend Wants Me To Wait

Sage sat on her friend’s bed and sipped on her fourth spiked seltzer of the night. Her belly was really full, but celebrating her first visit to her friend’s dorm demanded a more inebriated state. Daisy was leaning on her legs for the first time since summer and it felt like home again. Suddenly, she got up. “Where you goin’?” Sage asked. “Gonna change,” she replied, pulling her shirt off to reveal a baby blue bra. That was unclipped, too, and she comfortably exposed her breasts while she rummaged for a shirt. “Can you grab me something too?” “Sure thing,” she threw Sage an oversized t-shirt. “You want pants too?” “Nah,” she skinned her jeans off, then her sweatshirt. She didn’t have a bra on in the first place. The two were soon matching with big shirts and undies. “I’m so glad you didn’t shave your legs,” Daisy said, yanking Sage’s leg hair. “Ow!” she winced, pulling her leg away. “I missed doing that,” she giggled. “I didn’t! Don’t do that again, that really hurt!” she scratched the spot. Her bladder started to ache as the drink passed through her. As per usual, she waited quite a while to do anything about it. Thirty minutes later, when she was having trouble staying still, she spoke up. “Do you want to come to the bathroom with me?” “Nowwww?” Daisy groaned dramatically. “Well, it doesn’t have to be right now.” Sage shifted her sitting position. “Do you have to go?” “No.” “Let me know when you do.” “Okayyy.” Time passed. Drinks were drank. Sage found herself squirming, her urge to urinate growing by the second. She bit her lip and set her drink down, scooting nervously. She looked up at her friend sitting at the end of the bed. “Do you have to pee?” “Not yet,” Daisy replied. She placed her hand nonchalantly over her crotch. “I gotta go,” she hinted. Daisy was paying attention to the TV. Sage moved her foot under her butt and wriggled into it a little, now at the point of having to restrain herself from breaking out into a potty dance. “How many drinks have you had?” “Four.” “What! I thought we were on the same one! You gotta catch up to me!” Daisy turned to her and sighed, smirking a bit. She hurriedly drained the rest of her drink and held her hand out for another one. Then she drained that one, too. “Now it’s you that’s gotta catch up to me,” she said, reaching for another. Sage glanced dreadfully at her drink and rubbed her thighs together, hiding just how achingly full her tight bladder was. “Fuck it,” she sighed, and down it went. She crinkled the can in her hand and tossed it, her urinary organ pulsing with pressure. “Are you gonna get another?” “In a minute,” she replied, a bit strained. “Come on, man, it’s a party!” She grabbed another one and handed it to her. “Some party,” she said, then grimaced and scooted her butt back. An intense wave of urgency was going through her. It was hard not to squeeze her crotch and wriggle around when she felt so close to leaking like this, but impressively, she maintained control, only really squirming into her heel to keep back the flood. She was starting to sweat. “I gotta pee,” she complained, resting her hand in front of her privates. “Are you gonna drink that, or just hold it as an accessory?” “The peer pressure is strong tonight!” she laughed, cracking it open. “No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that!” Daisy reasoned hurriedly. “I’m just teasing you, I don’t actually care about keeping up or not.” “Why? Can you not keep up or something?” Sage started chugging the seltzer. She tightened her thigh and butt muscles and fidgeted, the intake of liquid taunting her bladder. She intended to finish it, but only got a little over halfway before the discomfort of her overfilled belly got too much. She belched and wriggled, about to pee right there. “Damn. Nicely done.” Daisy complimented. “Thanks!” she replied tightly, fighting her hands from grabbing her pussy. “I really have to use the restroom, though.” “Haven’t we already seen this episode?” Daisy picked up the remote and went to the episode list. Sage discreetly pressed her fingertips against her crotch, swaying around and bouncing her legs. Needing a distraction, she leaned back against the headboard and went on her phone. The sensation of her bulging bladder sat tightly under her bloated belly. She fiddled with her waistband and bounced her knees off of each other. She was so full of urine she could hardly stand it, but she was doing a fairly good job of remaining collected. Daisy leaned over, reaching between Sage’s legs. Before she had a chance to react, she yanked on a pube that was evidently poking out. Sage yelped in surprise, her hands shooting to her privates. She spurted hard, enough to leave a spot, no doubt. Daisy cackled so hard she fell onto her side. Sage had no choice but to grab and hold herself, writhing urgently and uneasily. “Why’d you do that?!” she winced, struggling not to pee any more. After that, her situation was dire. The danger of leaking lingered furiously at full strength, causing Sage to sit there squirming madly, a desperate, trembling mess. “I’m gonna pee!” Daisy laughed hysterically. Sage whined, scooting her soggy groin into her heel and bouncing. “Let’s go to the bathroom!” she suggested desperately. After a minute of laughing, Daisy sighed and wiped the tears from her eyes. “I needed that.” “So…” she struggled to stifle her pee dance, but it felt like a moment of stillness would lead her to leak. “Where’s the toilet?” “Huh? Oh, it’s down the hall.” “The hall?” she scooted to the side of the bed, starting to writhe rather frantically. “I have to go now, Daisy…” Daisy blew a raspberry, disappointed in having to get up. “Alright, hold on. We gotta put pants on.” With one hand squeezing and grabbing at her crotch, Sage got to rifling through the laundry on the floor. Once she found her jeans, she hurriedly pulled them on, jerking her hips around to keep from leaking. She didn’t button them. “Come onnnn…!” she moaned, urgency pulsating furiously inside of her. The sheer amount of liquid that was being retained felt enough to make her pop. She lurched forward and buried her hands in her lap as her urethra nearly gave out, letting a couple of drops seep out into her already moist undies. “Fuckkk…” “Okay, I’m ready. Let’s go,” Daisy led the way at a snail’s pace. “Ohmygod, ohmygod…” Sage wriggled madly. “You okay?” her friend laughed. “No, I’m about to pee myself! Hurry up!” she hopped around and squeezed herself tightly. “Button your pants, silly.” Sage’s belly was bulging with liquid. She hesitated, then clasped her pants shut. The waistband squeezed her midsection mercilessly, causing her discomfort to skyrocket. The thinly stretched walls of her overfilled bladder were stretched even further. The intensity of her urge to urinate was extreme and unyielding, borderline unbearable. “Mmmph!” she groaned, zipping the zipper and squirming like a lunatic. A gentle trickle began to leak out as Daisy quietly opened the door. “Uhhh-“ she whined through clenched teeth, tears forming in her eyes and her movements becoming even more erratic. “Shh!” Daisy told her. “We gotta walk past my roommates.” “Daisyyy…” she strained her peehole, trying desperately to stem the stream. It fluctuated in strength, starting to spread to her butt and leak down her leg. She squeaked with an inhale, completely shocked at her inability to stop. “Let’s go! What are you doing?” “I think I’m-“ she started breathlessly, getting choked up by the humiliation. “I think I’m peeing my pants…!” “Again?!” Daisy cupped her hands over her mouth in shock as a dark streak became visible down Sage’s pant leg. Yellow urine spilled out at the cuffs and started forming a puddle at her feet. Her whole bottom section was engulfed in the warmth of her liquid waste. Despite this, she continued to struggle to retain the rest, determined to minimize the damage and the embarrassment. It hurt so badly to do it, but shortly after her pants were completely soaked, she was able to clench her muscles enough to stop the flow. She still needed to pee really, really badly. Tears dripped off of her chin. Pee was everywhere. “Oh my god, okay, let me go get something to clean up.” Sage undid her pants and let them drop to her feet, giving her full, tortured organ room to expand. She started pacing nervously, urinary urgency keeping her antsy. Her pee dance was a kind of march, where she pressed her wet thighs together with every other step. A pang of urgency made her do a little hop, holding herself tightly and wincing. Her muscles were exhausted. Daisy came back with some cleaning agents and a couple of towels, one for the floor and one for her friend. “I got this. Go take a shower, you nasty bitch.” “No, I can get it!” her entire face was red as a tomato. She got on her knees and wiped up the puddle, sprayed the area, wriggled into her foot, bounced desperately, scooted back and forth… “Do you still have to pee!?” Daisy asked incredulously as soon as she noticed. “Dude, go to the bathroom already before you pee on the floor again!” “Will you come with me?” “Yes! Let’s go!” Daisy grabbed a dirty pair of shorts from her laundry and tossed them to Sage. “I’ll grab you something else for after the shower, but these’ll work in the meantime.” “Thanks,” she pulled them on. She hopped from foot to foot while Daisy opened the door and led her out. “Shh! Dude!” “Sorry, I’m sorry!” she held her crotch and danced on the spot. “It’s bad,” she whispered. The moment the two entered the bathroom, Sage made a beeline for the toilet and exploded the moment her butt made contact. “Ahh-“ she sighed, resting her hand over her deflating bladder. The sound of hissing and splattering filled the room. She bit her lip and closed her eyes. The relief was euphoric.

Yes I thought I’d have a “hidden” folder somewhere on my account that only I could see 😪 If I can’t recover it, I’ll write a very similar story soon.

I was a bit too drunk and completely forgot to update here! I ended up going outside, squirming like a madman for a few minutes on the porch before hurrying behind and tree and letting it go there. I must’ve gone for like a minute and a half (long time for me)

I can’t believe how extremely bad I need to piss I am really hurting and about to go piss! I pee’d a couple hours ago and I’ve been getting drunk and drinking a lot of water! My legs are pressed together, it hurts and I’m about to pee

I have got to piss so extremely badly at this point I think I can feel my bladder when I touch around the area I need to go so bad I’m fidgeting around like an insane person

I’m still holding but I’m dying to go

Now I’m just wearing boxers and a t-shirt. Probably a 7.5/10 at this point! I’m squirming and fidgeting How are you feeling?

Only slightly worse, but I’ve since taken a shot and drank a cup of water

I already have to go! Fairly full, but not too urgent. I’m getting drunk and staying hydrated. Will keep you updated!

You must have pee’d by now, but are you holding it in again tonight?