satyr

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satyr last won the day on February 4

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952 Hero of the Puddle

About satyr

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  1. satyr

    More on pjamas for bedwetting

    Are you insane? 8l * 5 = 40 liters! That's 60-100 times the average adult bladder. Even with an abnormally large bladder, 8 liters should leave you plenty of room for multiple full wettings.
  2. satyr

    Reddit vlog find

    Her eyes are kinda creeping me out. I'm guessing it's a reflection of the lighting setup she uses, but it's honestly distracting. Cool story though.
  3. satyr

    The Phone Booth

    Well, yes and no. If you drink a lot of diuretic beverages, at some point you will have diluted pee (due to all the fluid intake) but also not retain enough water due to ramping up urine production (leading to dehydration). Ever had a long, clear piss at the end of a night of drinking, but you're still thirsty? At least that was my thinking process. But I can see that it doesn't make much sense in context. I noticed while writing this that I kept mixing up the two characters with the four-letter names, but I thought I caught every instance. Thanks for the feedback and the kind words. I'll definitely make some minor edits to fix the things you brought up!
  4. satyr

    female The Phone Booth

    Preamble: I know some of you are waiting for me to complete the final chapter of Desperate Demon, and I will. But that's a story that requires me to finish up several emotional character arcs, tie together several disparate plot threads, and generally do work. So I will do that, hopefully soon, but in the meantime I was suddenly inspired to write something a little bit smuttier, and seasonally appropriate. This story's background is the absurdly complex and ostentatious celebration of finishing high school that Norwegian graduates-to-be stage each May. It's called russ, and you can google it if you're not familiar with the concept as I'm not about to dump a wall of text explaining all the traditions and rituals associated with it, since they are many and elaborate. I think the important bits are for the most part woven into the story below. This is a fictional story, but the particular dare/challenge described is real, and used to be a staple, at least it was when I graduated high school nine years ago. Don't know if people are still doing it since there are so few phone booths left.Usually I don't do visual aids, because I'm terrible at drawing and I don't want my perverted fantasies to be connected to other people's pictures against their knowledge. But I'm gonna make an exception this time since it's kinda important for the story. Here is a picture of the overalls prominently featured in this story, which are worn for seventeen days straight: This is a promotional picture from a company that sells these overalls (russ equipment is an entire industry in Norway). The person depicted has nothing whatsoever to do with the purely fictional story to follow. Onwards with the story! The Phone Booth The rules of the challenge were simple: drink a case of beer or cider inside a phone booth. You’re not allowed to leave the booth until the case is empty. It was a group challenge, but the number of participants was severely limited by the available space inside the booth. Three was already close to a game of Twister. Katrine wasn’t old enough to remember a time when phone booths were actually functional, but as she carried the case in alongside her two friends, she felt absurdly nostalgic for a time she hadn’t even experienced. She’d owned a cellphone since she was in first grade. Now the only phone booth in town, long since out of date and nonfunctional, was scheduled to be torn down. Next year’s crop of high school graduates would have to invent their own variation on the classic “consume a lot of alcohol in a very restricted space” theme. “Right, let’s get on with it, girls,” said Emma. She was tall, absurdly blonde, and the most boisterous and outgoing of their little trio. She bent down and Katrine felt Emma’s breasts brush against her leg as she fished out three cans of cider. Thankfully it was an overcast day, neither too hot nor too cold, but Katrine could already feel a droplet of sweat trail down the back of her neck. “Cheers!” She touched her can to the other girls’ cans, then opened it and took a long sip. Emma continued drinking until she’d drained her can. “I’m not chugging, if that’s your idea,” said Anne, the third member of the trio. She had long, brown hair and wore glasses, which complimented her face nicely. Emma had suggested Anne should go for the “sexy librarian” look for Halloween, and Anne had rolled her eyes, laughed, and said, “You mean, show up in my regular clothes?” “Well, just drink quickly, get on with it and don’t be a spoilsport,” Emma said. “What’s the hurry?” Katrine asked. “There’s no time limit on this thing.” Emma blushed, a rare sight. She was capable of laughing off anything and appeared not to know the meaning of the word embarrassment. “It’s, uh, nothing,” she said, too quickly. “Spit it out,” Anne said. “I just realized I should have gone for a piss before we started,” Emma said. “It’s not a big deal, let’s just not drag it on longer than necessary.” Katrine felt a small sympathetic twinge in her own bladder. When was the last time she’d peed? Not too long ago, she figured: about two hours. But if each of the girls shared the cider equally, they had around two and a half liters of alcoholic, diuretic beverages to consume. She did not have room for two liters in her bladder. “Shit,” she said. “I didn’t even think of that.” “This challenge has been a staple since forever,” Anne said with a grin. “I betcha there’s more than one girl who’s pissed herself in here.” Katrine’s eyes fell down to her crotch, then down her red overalls, the legs decorated with stickers and friendly or lewd messages scrawled in black sharpie. It’s not like she was in any danger yet, but she could absolutely not piss these pants. Not that peeing your pants at age eighteen wasn’t a disaster any which way you looked at it, but these particular pants would be extra-specially bad to wet. She had to wear them every day for the next two weeks—and if she washed them, she’d be breaking an unwritten rule and it would be obvious and people would ask her why… “Let’s talk about something else,” Emma said. “Anything else, literally.” Katrine finished her can and bumped her head into Anne’s knee as she bent down to get another can. “Ow!” “Don’t put your forehead in a space my knee has dibs on, you doofus!” Anne said. Katrine blushed. She’d never admit it to anyone, but she might have a minor crush on her petite, bespectacled friend. Well, she got more flustered and tingly whenever she embarrassed herself in Anne’s presence, anyway. “Take this and stuff your face with it,” she said, handing over a can and trying to paper over her embarrassment with aggression. Anne laughed as she accepted. She had a contagious laughter that would brighten anyone’s day—at least it brightened Katrine’s. Soon they were all laughing, and then Emma bent over, crossing her legs and bumping into Emma, who fell onto Katrine, her hair tickling under her nose. It smelled nice, but this wasn’t the time nor the place for that. Would there ever be? “Careful,” Anne said as she steadied herself and disentangled from Katrine. “Fuck, but I gotta piss,” Emma said. “Don’t make me laugh if you don’t want to stand in a puddle for the next two hours.” “Is it really bad already?” Katrine asked, concerned. “It’s not, like, total crisis yet,” Emma replied. “But it’s getting there. Fuck me, it’s been a while since I went.” “Psshh!” Anne said, elbowing her friend in the side accidentally on purpose. “Stop it! I’m serious.” “Sorry.” They drank in silence for a while. The atmosphere was stifling: it was too hot, they were packed too close, at least two of them were worried about springing a leak before they were done, and the alcohol buzz hadn’t kicked in yet. By the time they finished their third cans, however, Katrine could feel some of the tension leave her shoulders. She spotted a duck waddling across the parking lot outside the booth—what was it doing here—and before she knew it, she was giggling. “Look at that thing,” she said, pointing. “You think he’s on his way to meet Dolly?” Anne asked. “That thing looks more like a Goofy motherfucker to me,” Emma replied. She had taken to standing with her legs permanently crossed, but otherwise seemed fine. “How can you even tell it’s a he?” Katrine asked. “Don’t assume its gender, it’s 2019, jeeze,” Anne said, giggling. Emma doubled over, laughing. Soon she had to grab her crotch with her free hand, still bent over laughing, and then she began gasping for breath. “Stop, stop, I said don’t make me laugh, hahaha,” she said, “Hahah—fuck, fuck fuck fuck!” Her cheeks blossomed red as she grabbed herself furiously, before she finally managed to get the giggles under control. “Fuck, I think a little bit came out.” “Did you just piss yourself?” Anne asked. “No. It was just, like, one drop. Don’t tell me you’ve never laughed so hard a little bit came out.” “I haven’t,” Anne said, grinning. Katrine blushed. “What about you?” Emma demanded. “Uh, maybe one drop, once or twice,” she had to admit. Why did she have to make her say it in front of her crush? She could feel her bladder filling up—it was getting to the point where she’d definitely excuse herself to find a restroom if she could. But then she noticed that Anne seemed to be looking at her, biting her lip, a glint in her eye that hadn’t been there before. Was she… enjoying this? Or was it just wishful thinking? “Let’s get it over with, girls,” Emma said. She bent down to retrieve another can, but then she had to stop and squeeze herself. “Uh, a little help here?” Anne giggled again, bent down and handed her a can. Then she grabbed Emma’s hand, the one she was trying to hold herself with, and hoisted her friend back up to her feet. Emma blushed, and Katrine could see a shiver run through her abdomen as her friend struggled to maintain control. Emma opened the can and set to downing it in one go, only briefly pausing to draw a breath of air before diving back into drowning her sorrows in lukewarm cider. When she was done, she leaned back on the wall, rubbing her abdomen, which was visibly distended. “Fuck me,” she said, moaning. “Fuck, fuck, fuckity-cuntfucking fuck...” “My my, she’s got a dirty mouth,” Anne said. “Don’t you have to go even a little bit?” Emma asked. “Or are you just gonna stand there and be smug the whole time?” “I’m fine,” Anne replied cheerfully. Katrine was now subtly squirming. The alcohol was catching up with her, and she officially had to pee. Not as bad as her friend, but it was definitely not comfortable. They sipped in silence again, and soon they were halfway through the case—the easy half. From now on, they’d be fuller and drunker for every can, and the once pleasant sweetness of the cider now felt cloying and icky in Katrine’s mouth. Why not beer? Sure, the first can or two might be a bit bitter for her taste, but after that her taste buds would be numb, and now it felt like she was drinking alcoholic sugar water. She got the sinking feeling that this had been a bad idea, but she couldn’t back out now—couldn’t let her friends down and invalidate the challenge. “I can’t hold it much longer,” Emma said, and to Katrine’s surprise, her friend’s eyes were moist. “I really can’t. I gotta let it out.” “Don’t piss on the floor!” Anne said. “I guess I could sort of hover out the door,” Emma said. “Then I’d technically be inside the booth, but the piss would go outside.” “You can’t do that, we’re in public!” Katrine said. “Well I can’t piss my pants either,” Emma said. “There’s literally no one but us around,” Anne said. “Fuck it, I’m gonna do it. I can’t last five more minutes,” Emma said. She was shaking all over, desperately clutching at herself with her free hand. It really looked like she was on the verge of an accident. “Hold my cider.” She handed the can over to Anne, who seemed a bit too eager to accept. Then she set about lowering her overalls, shuffling over towards the open door and swinging her butt around all the while. Once she had her pants down to her ankles, Katrine could see a wet spot nearly the size of a hand on her friend’s green panties. “No, no!” Emma said, and although she couldn’t quite see it, Katrine could hear the dam bursting, urine beginning to hiss through her friend’s underwear before she got her panties all the way down. Katrine respectfully averted her eyes, although not before catching a glimpse between her friend’s legs, yellow droplets glistening on her skin. But she wasn’t into girls, like that. Well, maybe with the exception of one particular girl. She couldn’t see anything from this angle, but she could hear her friend’s pee spatter on the concrete, and it wasn’t helping her own bladder. What she could see, however, was Anne’s face, a rapturous look and eyes very clearly focused between her friend’s legs. “Eyes up here,” Katrine said, giggling despite herself. Anne quickly refocused her gaze on Katrine, blushing. “I, I wasn’t...” Emboldened by drink, Katrine leaned in and whispered conspiratorially: “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Her friend blushed. “I’m not, it’s not what you think...” Emma seemed to be zoned out in bliss, still relieving herself, her mind far away. It was like the two of them were alone, pressed too close for comfort—perfectly close, not close enough. “It’s okay, you can tell me,” Katrine purred. What am I doing? A voice in the back of her head said, but still, she leaned in closer until her lips were almost kissing Emma’s earlobe. “You can admit that you like it.” “It’s...” Anne struggled to find her words. “Is it that obvious?” “Uh-hmm,” she purred. “This is, uh, awkward,” Anne said. “I really need to pee as well,” Katrine said, squirming a bit for emphasis. She was making a show of it, but the show wasn’t far off from reality. Her bladder throbbed, her muscles were clenching, her legs were crossed and that bit was not for show. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” Anne said. “Maybe that’s exactly what I’m going for,” she whispered, blushing. “What are you two whispering about?” Emma said. She’d finally emptied herself and was in the process of hoisting up her overalls. There was a massive puddle right outside the door to the booth, a trail leading several meters away across the concrete, but nothing had hit the inside of the booth. A little bit had splashed onto the back of her legs, and there was a damp patch about the size of a coin between her legs. “Nothing,” Anne said, taking a deliberate step away from Katrine. “That was five seconds away from total disaster,” Emma said. “You two better keep your mouths shut about this.” “Looks like you had a minor disaster anyway,” Anne said, gesturing towards her friend’s wet crotch. Emma blushed. “I’m gonna have to insist on swearing you two to absolute secrecy,” Emma said. She was still red-faced, and Katrine could see a wet trail down one of her cheeks where she must have shed a tear. It was odd, seeing her confident friend look so vulnerable. All her usual bluster was gone, she was blushing and breathing heavy, and she held her hand “casually” in front of her lap to hide the evidence of her little accident. “You’re so cute when you blush,” Anne said. “Shame you don’t do it more often.” “Oh fuck off,” Emma said, but by now she seemed to have regained her composure. Then she noticed Katrine’s crossed legs, the hand clutching at the spot where they met. “You doing okay there, Kat?” She asked. “I might have to do what you did soon,” she admitted. She could admit it now, knowing that her crush was likely enjoying this more than was strictly necessary. “But I don’t know if I can bring myself to pee in public.” “You better not pee on me,” Anne said, although the look in her eyes said she might not mind all that much. Why did I have to fall in love with a pervert? Katrine thought. Wait, it’s just an innocent crush, not love. Right? Right. “We better get drinking, then,” Emma said. Now that she was empty, she had no trouble bending down to retrieve three fresh cans. Katrine had to force herself to finish the half-empty can in her hand. Soon they were down to two cans each left. A pleasant buzz had settled over them, but for Katrine it was marred by a steady pulsing from her bladder, standing on shaky legs and trying not to think of waterfalls as the two other girls gossiped. At one point, she had to bend over and furiously grab herself as she felt a trickle threaten to escape her. She was on the brink. And just then, she heard a bike screech to a halt outside. She looked up to see a little kid, maybe eight years old, eyes wide as he took in their red, highly decorated overalls. Of course a snooty little card-collector would show up when she was fighting a losing battle against her bladder. “Can I have your cards?” The boy said, eyes wide, as if he were a supplicant in a church. Which, to be fair, was the exact same look that would have been plastered on her own face when she was that age and encountered a graduating high schooler in full uniform. It was one of the many rituals and traditions that make up the traditional Norwegian russ celebration for graduating high schoolers, alongside the distinctive overalls and the public dares. Each of them carried a fat stack of faux business cards, professionally printed, with a picture, a scattering of in-jokes aimed at their friends and frequently a lewd joke that was sure to go over the heads of the little kids who collected them. “Sure,” Emma said, flashing the boy an innocent smile—her joke was more risque than the other girls had dared—and reached into her pocket to retrieve a card. Anne did the same, suppressing a giggle when she noticed the boy had planted his sneakers in the middle of Emma’s pee puddle, seemingly oblivious. Katrine had to let go of her crotch both to preserve her modesty and to retrieve a card from her pocket, but as she did she felt a little bit of urine leak out into her panties. Fuck fuck fuck. She quickly handed over the card to the little boy and placed her hand back where it belonged, desperately clutching her privates through her overalls, as soon as he’d mounted his bike and turned away with a smile and a “thanks!” “You okay?” Anne whispered as soon as the boy was out of earshot. “No, I’m not,” she had to admit. “I just leaked a little when I grabbed the card.” “Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Emma said. “Soon as that little shit is out of sight, you do what I did.” “I… I can’t,” Katrine said. “I just can’t. It’s too public. What if someone sees me?” But then, before she could formulate another objection, her bladder seized up, and a massive wave of pressure threatened to overwhelm her defenses. Katrine sank into a crouch, desperately grabbing at herself with both hands, letting her nearly empty can of cider clunk fall to the floor. She managed to regain control, but not before a three-second spurt wet her underwear, shooting out with such force it instantly soaked through her overalls, forming a wet spot between her legs, joined by a thin dark trickle down the inside of her thigh, halfway down to her knee. “I changed my mind!” She yelled, shoving her friends aside and swinging herself around, quickly undoing her overalls. Her bladder seemed to make the assumption that partial undressing was a signal to release, and she felt herself burst so fast she couldn’t properly aim or lower her panties, settling for holding onto the frame of the door with one hand, yanking her panties aside with the other. They were already soaked, but at least she managed to direct most of the stream out the side, hovering her butt out of the booth and spraying the concrete so hard she could feel the recoil spatter against the back of her legs. For a moment, she closed her eyes, lost in the bliss of release, but before she was done, she opened them. Emma had averted her eyes, pretending the phone handle was made of an absolutely fascinating material or texture, but Anne had not. She was looking straight between Katrine’s legs, right at the wet pink material and the bit of skin that wasn’t obscured by Katrine’s bent-over, butt-in-the-air posture. Katrine looked down at herself peeing, noted the little fuzz of blonde hair that was visible, the wetness that was glistening on her skin, and then she looked up into her crush’s eyes and winked. I can’t believe I did that, she thought, and then she couldn’t help but giggle. Finally, she was done. She had nothing to dry herself off with, so she had to settle for pulling up her wet underwear, then hoisting up the overalls. There was a wet spot between her legs the size of a baseball, a small trickle down her inner thigh, and her calves were spattered with droplets, but overall, it could have been so much worse. She noted that the droplets she could see were colorless and hoped there wouldn’t be too much of a smell when her overalls dried—her kidneys must be working overtime. Probably the alcohol working. Still breathing hard, she rose from her squat, taking a second to admire her handiwork—the pee puddle outside the door had now doubled in size. That must have been a whole liter, more than she’d ever pissed in her life. A mixture of emotions played on Katrine’s face: relief, embarrassment, and what the fuck maybe even a hint of arousal, thinking of the way Anne had been looking at her. “This is so embarrassing,” she managed, finally. “Hey, you’re not alone,” Emma said, and leaned over to give her a hug. Anne joined in, and then they were standing there, drunk, hugging, and then one of them began to laugh, and soon all of them were doubled over, gasping for breath. After that, they finished up the case fairly quickly. Katrine thought she saw Anne began to squirm subtly towards the end, but her friend put on a brave face and refused to acknowledge any urgency. “I’m gonna catch the bus,” Emma said when they finally stepped out of the booth, all of them unsteady on their feet, sweat pooling on their brows. The late afternoon sun had decided to break through the clouds and grace them with their presence—it was a beautiful day, now. “I’ll take the empty case, let it not be said we’re littering and killing the environment or whatever. See you at the party tomorrow?” They both nodded. “Okay, then. You two have fun!” And she gave them a wink and a smile as she walked off, carrying the case full of empty cans. Had she noticed the way her two friends were looking at one another? I thought I was being sly! When Emma was out of sight, Anne gave her a shy look, extending her hand tentatively. Katrine seized the opportunity and grabbed it. “I gotta piss like a racehorse”, Anne confessed. “Let’s hurry to the park and find a secluded spot before I explode.” They half-walked, half-stumbled towards the nearest park, not entirely steady on their feet. The clammy feeling of her friend’s hand in hers made up for anything else that had happened today. They found the park and began looking for a spot that wouldn’t be visible to passersby—not that there were many people out right now, since the day had started windy and cold and had not turned hot and pleasant until just now. There weren’t any public restrooms in the park, but there was a small thicket of trees and bushes, and Anne began power walking in that direction, dragging her friend along. They ran straight through a bush and behind a couple of thick, dense trees—an early spring had made the leaves into a nice shelter from prying eyes—before Anne released Katrine’s hand. Then she began fumbling with her overalls. “Help me, quick!” She said, a hand stuck in her crotch. Katrine tentatively took hold of her friend’s overalls, began lowering them as Anne struggled to hold on. She could see now that Anne’s bladder was bulging out, fit to burst. When the overalls were down to her knees, Anne squatted down, steadying herself on a tree trunk, and then her bladder burst: she began peeing forcefully, uncontrollably, straight through her panties. They were white and very soon they were see-through: Katrine could see her crush’s labia, longed to touch—no, bad girl, no!—but even in this drunken state, she managed to restrain herself. It went on for over a minute, and although her overalls were spotless, aside from a little splatter around her ankles, the panties had nary a dry spot on them. Anne stepped out of her puddle, shaking her butt to disperse some droplets, and then she proceeded to remove her shoes and then lower her overalls to her ankles. “What are you doing?” Katrine asked, eyes darting around to confirm that they were indeed completely shielded from view—unless someone stood in a very specific spot on the hill above them and looked straight down, and the spot appeared to be mercifully empty. “If I put on my overalls with these panties on, they’ll get wet,” Anne said, as if what she was about to do were entirely logical, practical, and ordinary. But it wasn’t. Soon she had her overalls off in a pile to the side, standing there only in see-through, soaking panties, and then she lowered those, too, stepped out of them and squeezed them out. A little waterfall splattered between her socks. Now she stood there, nude from the waist down, holding a very wet pair of panties, apparently with not a care in the world. A grin spread across her face, and she spread her legs a bit, giving Katrine a good look—then she turned around and wiggled her bum for good measure. Five minutes later, they emerged from the thicket, hand in hand, the panties left behind. A cop car drifted lazily past them on the street, the driver only sparing them a casual glance. They giggled. “You’re not gonna regret this when you sober up?” Katrine asked. “I had my eyes on you for a while,” Anne said, suddenly serious. “You’re not going to regret it in the morning?” “I might have had my eyes on you as well,” she admitted, blushing. And so the two friends who might become something more walked home, hand in hand, another feather in their cap and a challenge well completed.
  5. satyr

    School Girl Desperate to Pee

    If you skip ahead about 27 minutes she actually wets herself.
  6. satyr

    Just/almost made it at Megacon

    Aww. Cute. That girl was a lifesaver. I'm trying to picture what "obsidian black skin" makeup would look like, and all I can picture is blackface. How did you pull that off without looking like a tool?
  7. satyr

    Your ideal 'bladder?'

    For myself, I have a fairly large bladder, which is convenient in real life, but I don't recall ever being unintentionally desperate while sober because I'm sensible about bathroom breaks. So I could probably get away with a slightly smaller bladder without having any trouble in real life. That would be great for kinky purposes, as I would be able to get to the stage of losing control without extreme pain or bloating. I would never sacrifice bladder health just for a kink though - it would have to be a fantasy scenario in which I could shrink my bladder magically, with no side effects. Gotta have that work - play balance! In others, my preference would be someone who has a large bladder but irresponsible bathroom habits. Someone who is a bit proud and could easily hold it if they would just go to the bathroom once or twice a day, but for some reason puts it off until it's too late, is like my ultimate fantasy.
  8. satyr

    Lazy Bladder?

    Lazy Bladder Syndrome or underactive bladder is a real condition. It's characterized by large capacity, infrequent urination, and incomplete voiding usually caused by detrusor underactivity. The detrusor is the ring-shaped muscle in the bladder wall that relaxes as the bladder fills, and contracts when we urinate to expel urine. If this muscle isn't contracting properly during urination, you struggle to fully empty your bladder. As a result of constantly having pee (often lots of pee) in the bladder, UTIs are much more likely. It's not really a "girly" condition - the data I could find indicate it's about equally prevalent in males and females. I don't think having an unusually large bladder or frequently holding it are in and of themselves the cause though. More likely correlated symptoms, rather. Plenty of people do have large bladders and pee rarely, without symptoms of lazy bladder.
  9. satyr

    Anyone know of any great omo kindle books

    This one is super hot, and long. Should last you a while.
  10. satyr

    What Happened to Ella Marsh?

    Pretty sure that's where her mom committed suicide, and Ella found her. Anyway, I was expecting Danielle to get her comeuppance during that car desperation scene, Sasha. Kind of hoping she does eventually.
  11. satyr

    Hold it! Saril's Omo-Idol Q&A

    Question for Maya: What is your favorite pair of panties to pee in? Also, have some candy.
  12. satyr

    Unnoticed Accidents

    I don't know. I found the video on tumblr a good while back. I feel like I might have seen her in something else, but I don't recall where.
  13. satyr

    Unnoticed Accidents

    I mean it's obviously staged, but I really really doubt you're going to find this scenario unstaged... tumblr_obva7rRR6x1voea7h.mp4
  14. satyr

    Desperate Pull-up Accident

    Cute as a button! You did great!
  15. Please chill with the clickbait titles. Just let the story stand on its own.