Leaky Bunnie

That was a hot read, really great premise! ❤️

This absolute classic used to be available in a much higher resolution, but I believe it was removed by the uploaded and now all that remains is this very poor copy. If there's anything you could do to improve the image quality of this one, you'd be doing the desperation community a service! ❤️

Insane that this hasn't received any responses since February! I love your art and have been following you on furaffinity, I just thought I'd write something here because I didn't like seeing this not get any love. I really love the way you draw desperate and humiliated expressions! ^-^

Oh my gosh I really like this!! I'm absolutely obsessed with this sorta toony desperation! It just hits all the right buttons for me idk why, hhh 🥴💞 I'd be just delighted if you decided to share more like this! 🥰

Seeing Lapis Lazuli very relieved and letting out a powerful stream in a field would be really cute!

Oh she'll be able to control it, I'm sure! I mean, what kind of woman would she be if she just took a squat in the road and let it go? Or even worse, wet herself!? No no, she'll hold it until her brother arrives with the fuel. It's still a long drive home though, and her brother doesn't mention that the bathroom door at home is busted! He's fine to go with it open, his back to the outside, but she couldn't possibly do such a thing! Hopefully it gets fixed soon... but it's already late on a Saturday, then no one is available on Sunday, and Monday is a holiday, so it'll be Tuesday at the earliest that her brother can call someone! 😨 I'm sure she'll be able to hold it, but it's going to be a real struggle~!

How about some classic style Harley Quinn, and she's like, you know, REALLY desperate but trying to hold it since Mr. J is busy~

God the insane AMOUNT of fluid she's had... HHhff... I'm loving all of this stuff!

I'm sorry! I guess I was a little too um... inspired at that time! You don't have to draw this, or maybe if I could simplify the idea a bit, all I really meant to suggest was a very desperate woman looking at a toilet but refusing to use it because it isn't her own, despite how full her bladder is.

Thank you, but open ended desperation is really hot for me! Also for the requester for this piece! It's a niche though, I can appreciate that... some people just want to imagine she kept fighting and holding and whining and wheezing for days to come~ uwu

Hey again! This is another request, from a discord friend in the omo / pee desp community. This one, like my previous story, is an example of a roughly 1000 word commission (I went over again but that's not exactly a bad thing for the customer, just poor business on my part haha!) only this time written in a less detailed style. I'll be offering this cheaper option for commissions - being written in more casual prose and without multiple drafts being done. I'll be announcing these commissions officially once I have finished making some images with all the information, but if you're already interested please private message me to learn more! Thanks everyone for the amazing reception all of these stories have had so far, I'm really enjoying writing for the site! Superstore Squirming - The Urgent Queue! Jess couldn’t stop her right foot from tapping or bouncing on its heel. She hoped no one picked up on that, nor on the little butt wiggles she was doing as she waited, begging the lengthy queue to move faster. She was gripping a sweater she’d pulled off the rack so tightly that her knuckles were white, and every whine and whimper she swallowed seemed to travel directly to her already densely packed piss pouch and start complaining about the cramped conditions within! It was some four hours since she’d arrived at this multi-story maze of a store, six since her morning release, and two since she’d realised that she couldn’t simply anymore. There had already been a faint, pressing urge when she’d entered the store, and by now it was a pulsing, pleading weight between her thighs. Inside her bladder churned the results of a morning coffee, orange juice, three bottles of water, and the overall anxiety of being so utterly lost without any sign of relief. After multiple closed for cleaning signs, Jess was now stuck attempting to supress her squirming in a line of a dozen other women. Her knees knocked together, she glanced around herself nervously, feeling like all eyes must have been on her in her form-hugging tight jeans and low-cut top. They most likely weren’t, of course, but Jess couldn’t shake the paranoia that every twitch and tremble was being judged. She imagined the whispers, the shaking of heads, the casual tutting at the fully grown woman who was potty dancing like a schoolgirl. It was all she could do to keep herself from full-on jiggling and burying both hands into her aching, tightly clenched crotch, but she resigned herself to suffering on. To enduring the waves of pressure as the line inched forward ever so slowly. It wasn’t far now, her salvation was just ahead, the light at the end of this flooded tunnel. A stern wave of urgency crashed down upon her trembling body, and she exhaled heavily, shakily, fanning herself a little with the sweater she still clung to, giving her some vague excuse to even be here. Each burst of need brought her closer to the strike that would crumble her walls of control and cause that terrible, boiling fluid to come hissing out and down her legs. Each call was ever closer than the last - and had been for hours now. As the minutes rolled by, and she shuffled slowly forward, she pictured all those drinks, stewing inside her for about six hours now, churning and shooting downwards against her weakening grip. As much as she valued each step closer to the easing of her pain, those very steps jabbed into like hammers into her overstuffed bladder – which was jutting out painfully against her waistband, and visibly pounding in time with her racing heart. Her eyes had been locked on the floor ahead of her when she’d chanced a glance ahead and saw, with awe, that only two more women remained in front. The sudden knowledge that she was oh so close only caused that next fateful swell of pressure to catch her off-guard. Her bladder contracted sharply, the furious piddle stabbed at her sphincter and broke through, flooding her urethra instantly! Jess’ eyes were wide and unfocused, she gasped and wheezed, she tightened every muscle available until her face burned red with the strain. She still heroically refused to grip herself, instead willing her poor, tormented pussy lips to form a vacuum seal around her piss hole and contain any spurting, yellow trickles that might escape! Her thighs tingled as she pressed them so fiercely together that they began to lose feeling, and she felt lightheaded as she could scarcely breathe without crying out in desperation. Despite her best efforts, she was losing leaks. No strong spurts or sprays, but a constant flow of the tiniest trickles seeping past her labia and tainting her precious panties. Sweat rolled slowly down her face to her cheek, as a dribble of her ponderous load of piss eased from her damp panties and snaked down her inner thigh. The colour drained from her face, and that too flowed downwards to the crushing reservoir between her legs. She was practically sweating piss and all she could hear was the pounding of her throbbing pussy. So focused was she on enduring this hellish wave of so stale urine, that it wasn’t until the store attendant cleared her throat that she realised she had made it to the front of the line! Not wasting a second, she sprinted into the nearest changing room, her floodgates creaking open, she threw the sweater down on the bench and locked the door behind her. Both hands went straight between her legs, and she began to massage and squeeze herself, cooing at herself, dancing on the spot, and gyrating her hips. She thanked god she’d made it, for another moment having to endure without being able to hold herself and squirm would have left her flooding the clothing isle. After the first few minutes in line for the changing rooms she’d started to doubt the decision, perhaps she was better off continuing to search for a restroom than waiting here just for the chance to tackle her urgency head-on, but now she was sure it had been the right decision. Every new floor she’d been to it had taken anywhere between twenty to forty minutes to locate the toilets, and every time they have been inaccessible, or only for the men to use. No doubt if she had tried to keep searching, by this stage she’d either have lost control, or would be on her knees, kneading her groin for everyone in the crowded store to see! Jess leaned on the side of the stall and moaned into her arm, taking one hand away from herself for a moment to fiddle with the button of her jeans. She sucked breath in through clenched teeth and used a thumb to unbutton them, despite the extra pressure this added momentarily, the relief as her rock-hard abdomen popped out was almost orgasmic. Immediately she shoved both hands now into her piss-soaked panties and began to grind her puckering pee-hole against her hands directly. Grunting softly and chewing her bottom lip at the pleasure, the easing of that terrible burden, the distraction from her clenching, gasping, teeth-floating ocean of steaming, hot wastewater. She raised one leg, bringing her thigh to held press her hands still harder against her spasming, forcefully sealed exit. Her shapely rump stuck out strained against her jeans while she leaned forwards and tried to give her heavy mass of pent-up piddle room to stretch and settle down. She thought she might even want to sing it to sleep, like a kicking baby, an overdue case of piss pregnancy that was growing impatient and unruly within. Though she could not hate her burden, only try to make it see reason, to learn patience, to find comfort inside her and to stay there, bottled up and brewing until the hour, or day, she might finally be able to let loose her immense torrent. Jess was floating in bliss, fantasising about the opportunity to let it flow. Still bursting beyond belief, but content now she could finally take the weight off her muscles and shake and bounce her ass as much as her body yearned to. If she never pissed again, it would almost be okay so long as she could remain in this moment of pleasure and pressure control. Then there was a sharp knocking at the door. She remembered that dream could not be. Others needed to use these stalls, to try on clothes maybe, or maybe some needed only to compose themselves against their own personal growing floods. Who was she to deny them of that? Jess steeled herself, closed her eyes tight and gave herself one last, beautiful squeeze, with her hands so tightly clenched that it almost hurt, then she took a deep, trembling breath, and removed both of them at once. She held that breath as she bounced from one foot to the other and yanked up her jeans, sucking in her belly as if that would make any difference with her totally maxed-out bladder sitting like an oversized bowling ball in her gut, and she bit down on her tongue to silence the shriek that may have burst out as the button was fastened. Finally, her jeans secured, zipped up, she danced on the spot and shook her hands, pleading with herself to regain composure, to be strong, to keep holding, to face the rest of this nightmare with grace, as a lady. It would have been a lie to say she felt ready after the brief few moments she had to prepare, but she still opened the changing room door and strode out, head held high, a deep, yellow storm raging in her bladder. Her struggle would continue, but at least she’d had those beautiful minutes of ease, of privacy, and of giving in to the shameful, animal urge to display her desperate plea to piss her woes away. Every step she took jostled her bladder, and she thought with twisted humour that at least that straining organ was so densely packed full, that it was impossible for it to embarrass her by sloshing when she walked. Smirking through the pain, Jess tighten up, wiggled her hips, and held it in. The End...