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Rexone_312

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Rexone_312 last won the day on September 20 2022

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  • My pronouns are..
    he/him

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  • I'm into..
    Bathroom Control
    Watersports
    Pleasure control
    Stomach bulging

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  1. I can't express how much your comment has inspired me to write more! All the aspects which you highlighted were put into the story after much deliberation. I am so happy that it is being appreciated 😊
  2. Hi Omo Lovers: If you love absolute nail biting desperation, putting our heroine to stretch her lmits, the this story is for you. Presenting to you all: Poonam, a famous and bold actress from India. Prologue: Poonam came home drunk and exhausted after a long day at work and the bladder burst cotnest with her friends which she won by a significant margin. Without bothering to go the bathroom she eagerly fell into bed, ready for a good night's sleep. However, her bladder had other ideas. It was full to the brim, and she could feel the pressure building. She tried to ignore it, thinking that she could hold on until morning, but her bladder had different plans. As she drifted off to sleep, Poonam found herself in a strange dream. She was walking through a maze, desperately searching for a bathroom. Every door she opened led to another dead end, and she could feel her need to pee growing more and more urgent. It was like a nightmare that she couldn't wake up from. In her dream, Poonam was frantically searching for a bathroom, but in reality, she was tossing and turning in her bed. She was in a constant state of discomfort, and every movement she made only seemed to make it worse. She could feel the pressure building inside her, and she knew that she couldn't hold on for much longer. In the dream, Poonam finally stumbled upon a bathroom, but it was occupied. She banged on the door, begging the person inside to hurry up, but they refused to budge. In reality, Poonam was still tossing and turning, her bladder feeling like it was about to burst. She was getting desperate, and she knew that she had to find a way to relieve herself soon. As the dream continued, Poonam's desperation grew more intense. She was running through the maze now, trying to find a bathroom before it was too late. But in reality, she was still in bed, squirming and wriggling as she tried to find a comfortable position. She could feel herself starting to leak, and she knew that she had to do something quickly. And that’s when she woke up. The fateful morning: Poonam was a name that echoed through the Indian film industry. Her bold and exhibitionist nature had made her a darling of the tabloids. Her sultry looks and unapologetic admission of going under the knife to gain massive boobs, had only added to her fame. But beneath all of that, she was a gifted actress, and her big break was finally within reach. She had landed an audition for the lead role in an indie film that was highly anticipated, and the opportunity was too good to pass up. The day of the audition was supposed to be the biggest day of Poonam's life. She had set her alarm for 7 am to give herself plenty of time to prepare for the audition at 10 am. But when she woke up, she realized that she had overslept. Her heart raced as she looked at the clock, realizing that it was already 9 am. Panic set in as she jumped out of bed, frantically trying to gather her thoughts and get ready as quickly as possible. As she rushed to get dressed, Poonam felt an intense urge to empty her bladder. Her body had been religiously containing all the water and beer she had been chugging from the previous evening, and now it was screaming for release. Any other girl would already be sitting on the toilet emptying herself but being in showbiz, she was used to being desperate all the time. She decided that her bladder needed to keep the piss in. Besides, she didn't have time to stop and take care of it. Poonam stood in front of her full-length mirror, sweating profusely and one hand nursing her little bladder bulge. Her outfit for the day was a dangerously low cut top and extremely tight leather pants, coupled with stilettos. But as luck would have it, she struggled to put them on. Thanks to her nagging bladder and her slight gain in weight. She had been trying for what felt like an eternity, but they just wouldn't budge past her thighs. She had been determined to wear them to the audition to impress everyone, but now she was regretting her decision. Poonam took a deep breath and pulled with all her might; her face contorted with effort. She was grateful that she was alone in her room, as she didn't want anyone to witness her embarrassing struggle. She tried to wiggle them up inch by inch, but it seemed like the pants had a life of their own and were fighting back against her. She took a break to cool down and clench her muscles, but the pants seemed to have grown tighter in the meantime. She hopped around the room, trying to loosen them up, but it only made things worse. The leather pants seemed to be mocking her, as if saying, "Ha! You thought you could wear us? Think again!" Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Poonam managed to wiggle into the pants, but they were so tight that she couldn't even bend over to pick up her phone. Once she buttoned them up, her urge to pee shot up twice. She had to waddle around the room, trying to stretch them out, but it only made her look like a penguin trying to dance. She sighed and accepted her fate, knowing that she was going to have to spend the entire evening in these unforgiving leather pants. Right now, the audition was the priority. Peeing can wait for some other convenient time. Poonam ran out of the door, her heart racing, fuelled by her passion for acting and the fear of missing out on this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. As she arrived at the audition, Poonam was breathless and sweating profusely. Her nerves were shot, but she tried to compose herself. When she was called in to start the audition, Poonam knew that she had to give it her all, despite her physical discomfort. For the next hour, she clenched her muscles hard and poured everything she had into the audition. She delivered her lines with conviction, showing her range as an actress, and leaving it all on the stage. But all the while, she was fighting an intense urge to pee that was threatening to overwhelm her. Her tight leather pants and stilettos were making things even worse. The sharp stilettos were biting into her flesh, making it difficult for her to stand still. Her bladder was screaming for release, and she could feel the wetness spreading through her pants. But she gritted her teeth, determined not to let it show. The tension in the room was palpable as Poonam struggled to maintain her composure. Every second felt like an eternity, and she could feel the sweat running down her back. Her breathing was laboured, and she could hear her heart pounding in her chest. It was a battle of wills, and Poonam refused to be defeated. After an exhausting and gruelling afternoon of auditioning, Poonam stumbled out of the room, her legs weak and her bladder on the brink of explosion. She had never felt such desperation before and was practically hallucinating about floating toilet bowls. Her phone buzzed, reminding her of her flight in just one hour. With a sense of urgency, she hailed a cab, determined not to waste any more time. The flight: As the cab sped towards the airport, Poonam's discomfort grew more intense. She fought to maintain her composure, doing kegels non-stop to hold back the flood. But the pressure in her abdomen was becoming unbearable, and she could feel sweat pouring down her forehead. She rushed through check-in and security, but her distress only continued to mount. By the time she boarded the plane, Poonam was on the verge of tears. She was so uncomfortable that she could hardly comprehend how to put on the seat belt. She tried to distract herself with thoughts of the successful audition she had just completed, but all she could think about was the desperate need to use the bathroom. The plane took off, and Poonam's discomfort only intensified. She shifted in her seat, trying to find relief, but nothing seemed to help. She watched a movie, listened to music, but her mind was consumed with the pain in her abdomen. A few soft drinks and 2 painfully slow hours later, the captain announced that they were approaching their destination, Poonam felt a surge of relief. Throughout the flight the seat belt signed remained on – perhaps the pilot forgot to turn them off. Poonam knew she wouldn't be able to use the bathroom until they landed. She was going to burst. When the plane touched down, Poonam was the first to disembark. The bathrooms at the airport were across the long hall of luggage conveyors but they were closed due to cleaning. She had no choice but to hurry to the waiting cab. Her three-hour journey was without any restroom stops, and the discomfort only got worse. No amount of distraction could take her mind off from her all-consuming need. She begged the driver to stop at a rest stop, but he refused, and Poonam felt like she was going to have a medical emergency. In desperation, Poonam pleaded with the driver again to find a bathroom, but there was nothing for miles. As the pressure built inside her, her body tensed up, and she felt like she was going to collapse. It was the most intense discomfort she had ever experienced, and she knew that she was running out of her capacity. 28 hours had passed since she last used the toilet. Given her hectic schedule she restricted herself to one or max two pees a day. These were uncharted waters for her. The anxiety was overwhelming, and Poonam was starting to panic. The photoshoot: Poonam never thought that being an actress could be so painful. She was currently shooting an overnight ad campaign, and her stylist had chosen the tightest, most constrictive rubber catsuit she had ever worn. It was like wearing a second skin that was crushing her bulging bladder. And to make matters worse, she had made a grave mistake: drinking a massive bottle of water on her way to the shoot, thanks to the hot weather. At first, she kept repeating to herself that she was strong and apply “Mind over matter” concept. But as the hours passed by, her bladder grew fuller and fuller, and her discomfort reached unimaginable heights. She was sweating bullets, her eyes darting around the set, looking for a way out, but there was none. Her stomach was rumbling, and her bladder was on the brink of exploding. She knew that she was in trouble. The director called for another take, and Poonam gritted her teeth. She tried to concentrate on the shoot, but all she could think of was her the brewing pressure between her legs. She was doing a photo shoot on a yacht, and the water around her was mocking her. She felt like screaming, but instead, she just posed, holding her breath, and praying for the shoot to be over soon. But the shoot didn't end anytime soon. The director kept calling for more and more takes, and Poonam felt like she was dying. Every time she moved; she felt a new wave of pressure hitting her bladder. She couldn't even think straight anymore. Her body was on autopilot, and her mind was consumed with a single thought: “bathroom, bathroom, bathroom.” Hours passed, and the sun started to rise. The shoot finally ended, and Poonam was allowed to leave. She stumbled off the yacht, her legs shaking, and her eyes glazed. She was so desperate to relieve herself that she didn't care about anything else. 38 hours and nearly 2 litres of piss being pumped into her bladder Poonam needed help, and fast. But her nightmare was far from over. As Poonam stumbled off the set, the next reminder on her phone told her that to rush to a shopping mall for the launch of a famous perfume line, and the journey was going to take another two hours. Poonam regretted all the juices she had consumed during the night and the short breakfast break earlier. Due to paucity of time, she chose to continue wearing the tight rubber catsuit. It only added to her misery. She was now in excruciating pain, and she struggled to keep a straight face. The Mall Visit: Once she reached the mall, Poonam longingly looked at the door of the washrooms. But the frenzy of the crowd meant that the washrooms were off limits. Poonam's heart sank once again. She didn't know how much longer she could go without using the restroom. As she launched her perfume line and posed for photos, Poonam knew that she had to find a way to escape and use the bathroom. Her discomfort had turned into agony, and she was on the verge of collapsing from the intense pressure building up inside her. She tried to take deep breaths and stay calm, but with more and more pee gushing into her bladder the tightness of her costume increased. It was becoming increasingly difficult to sit, breathe or do anything normally. The urge to relieve herself was becoming unbearable, and she felt like she was going to explode. Poonam whispered to her assistant and begged her to find a restroom as soon as possible, but due to security reasons, she was not allowed to leave her designated schedule or place. Her frustration and desperation grew with each passing moment. Every step that she took to move sloshed the bowling ball sized bladder inside her. As the day wore on, Poonam's bladder continued to swell. The only difference being that nobody was able to see underneath the flat corset like structure of the catsuit lied a severely compressed bladder. To add to her misery, Poonam now had to have lunch with the sponsors and the magazine guys. They were taken to a posh restaurant. She was sweating profusely, but it wasn't the heat that was causing her discomfort. It was the tight and constrictive outfit she was wearing, coupled with an extremely full bladder that made her feel like she was about to burst at any moment. To make matters worse, she had just finished eating an extremely hot and spicy lunch. She thought the water would help cool her off, but now she regretted it. Her bladder was already begging for relief, and the copious amounts of water she drank were only making it worse. Poonam tried to distract herself from the discomfort by focusing on conversating with others around the table, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. She shifted in her tight outfit, trying to find a comfortable position, but it was impossible. She felt like she was wearing a straitjacket that was slowly crushing her bladder. The photographers kept calling out instructions to hold the glass of wine or pose in a certain manner, turn her head and what not. But Poonam could barely concentrate. Her mind was consumed with thoughts of finding a bathroom. She tried to hold it in, but her body was beginning to rebel. Every move she made felt like a ticking time bomb. She felt beads of sweat pouring down her forehead and trickling down her back. She was a hot mess. The lunch seemed to drag on for an eternity, and Poonam was becoming increasingly fidgety. She tried to subtly signal to her assistant that she was in dire need of a bathroom break, but she was too focused on eating lunch herself. When she tried to excuse herself, but her security team told her that it wasn't safe to leave without them. Poonam's frustration and desperation grew with each passing moment. She felt trapped and helpless, and her body was now profusely sweating. She was nearing the end of her tether. The Fashion Show: Poonam knew that she couldn't go on like this for much longer but her damned schedule was packed to the brim. In next two hours she found herself in an even more elaborate setting, a judge of a fashion show. She was at the front row and her task was to carefully examine each model as they walked down the runway. The clothes were stunning, and the models looked effortlessly chic, but Poonam couldn't focus on anything other than her own discomfort. She tried to shift in her seat, hoping to find a more comfortable position, but nothing seemed to work. Every movement kept worsening her desperation somehow. Her vagina lips quivered non-stop, and legs were crossed tightly, her hands were fidgeting in her lap, and her forehead was beaded with sweat. She was in agony, but she couldn't let anyone know. After all, she was the judge of the fashion show, and she needed to maintain her composure. As the next model walked out onto the runway, Poonam's focus shifted from the clothes to her own bodily functions. She could feel her bladder screaming for release, and she knew that she couldn't hold it in any longer. She shifted in her seat once more, trying to find a way to relieve the pressure without anyone noticing. But it was no use. The urge was too strong, and she was too embarrassed to ask for a break. Time simply refused to pass but Poonam's desperation kept on increasing. She could not comprehend how was she still getting more frantic. She was sweating profusely now, felt the dampness spreading down her back. The heat and sweat inside her rubber catsuit was making her thirsty so, she had to keep chugging water to cool herself off. It was a vicious cycle. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for a way out, but there was no escape. 3 excruciatingly slow hours later, the last model walked down the runway, and the show was over. Poonam jumped up from her seat, almost knocking over her chair in the process. However, an escape was not happening yet. As she heard her name being called, Poonam took a deep breath and walked onto the stage. She plastered a smile on her face and started to speak, but her mind was racing. All she could think about was how badly she needed to pee. She had not gone for over 42 hours now and her bladder was relentlessly trying to push all the pee out of her body. But for now, with all eyes of her, Poonam had to suffer in silence. She fumbled to open the envelopes and make sense of the forms and cards handed over to her. Over a minute or two of awkward silence on the mic, she started to read out the names of the runners-up with a shaky voice. Poonam's bladder began to spasm. She shifted from foot to foot, crossing and uncrossing her legs, trying to find some relief. But it was no use. She was at the verge of exploding. Finally, the moment of truth arrived. Poonam read out the name of the winner, and the crowd erupted in cheers. But all Poonam could think about was how badly she needed to pee. She tried to hurry offstage, but the photographers wanted a few more shots. She smiled for the cameras, but inside, she was in agony. Her otherwise flamboyant style of seductive poses was replaced by schoolgirl like poses. Her hands were firmly placed on her bladder as if carrying its load and lips were permanently pursed. The vein on her forehead was bulging out with the strain of holding back the flood. She cursed herself for getting into this situation. As soon as the last pap clicked the photo she rushed out of the room, her hand pressed tightly against her crotch. She could almost see the light from heavens when the show was over. She prayed for a toilet to pop out magically. It was sheer luck or as-if the gods listened to her prayers, her eyes finally fell on the door ladies toilet shining at a distance. She started taking baby steps towards it with bated breath. Her vagina was burning with the pee trying to explode out. The Interview: Poonam’s hand almost reached the handle of the door just when her assistant caught hold of her and pulled her away from the toilet. She yelled at the assistant, but the latter stood her ground. There was simply no time for a bathroom break. And given the tight contraption of the rubber costume, Poonam would require at least an hour to get in and out of the suit, followed by the touch up of makeup. Plus the media would ridicule her and make memes out of her visit to the toilets. They absolutely needed to leave immediately for the interview with FMH magazine. Fame before everything else – Poonam’s assistant quoted her. Poonam's heart sank. She didn't know how much longer she could hold it in, and the thought of enduring another event without relief was unbearable. But an hour later, she was on the stage with a well-known host surrounded by lights and cameras. As the interview began, Poonam sat down in a chair and crossed her legs, trying to act calm and collected. However, she soon realized that her outfit was causing her some serious discomfort than even before. One of the belts at the back of her dress had slipped to the next notch while adjusting it in the car. The catsuit was squeezing her bladder tighter and tighter. She felt as if it was shrinking by the minute. The ribs of the corset dug into her bladder and her control was wavering. A full gallon was compressed inside her constricted bladder for nearly 2 days now. The interviewer, oblivious to Poonam’s predicament kept asked her a series of questions. Rather it was a laundry list of questions. Thanks to Poonam’s absolute control over her expressions, she looked calm and tried her best to answer them as if nothing was wrong. In reality, her mind was entirely focused on her the stinging bladder pain. The pressure was mounting. The box of tissues given to her on set was now exhausted. After half an hour she started fanning her legs involuntarily. It was a do or die situation for her. The room felt like it was getting hotter by the minute, making her situation even worse. As the interview dragged on, Poonam's bladder grew more and more insistent. She shifted in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs, trying to find some relief, but nothing worked. She could feel a tiny bit of pee leaking out, and she knew that she was in deep trouble. The interviewer seemed concerned, but she ignored it and the cameras kept rolling. Poonam tried to hold on, but a big spurt escaped into her tight undies causing her to jolt. It was too much for her to handle. Suddenly, in the middle of a question, she blurted out, "Excuse me, I need to use take a break, if its, Ok? It’s getting very hot in my outfit" "We will turn the AC further down, but could you just wait half an hour more - we are rolling hence." Poonam politely agreed to wait, but her bladder was on fire. Now with the AC temperature lowered further, she now had to battle the cold. It was a catastrophic situation for her. The interview continued, and Poonam's bladder became more and more insistent. She was squirming in her seat, her face contorted in discomfort. She couldn't concentrate on anything the interviewer was saying, and her mind was completely blank except for the thought of finding a bathroom. Just when she thought she couldn't hold on any longer, the interviewer finally wrapped up. Poonam quickly stood up, barely able to walk straight. She made her way out of the room, her legs shaking. Her assistant came running to her aid and escorted Poonam to her car. On their way they passed the glorious ladies’ toilets. Poonam tried her best to convince her guards to they told her that the toilets were locked. The Final Leg: As Poonam got into the car, she knew she needed to find a restroom fast. She warned her assistant that finding a bathroom was her only priority. Her assistant asked the driver to speed to the nearest hotel. Her bladder was on the verge of bursting. Her legs simply kept scissoring involuntarily. Her hands seemed to be glued to her crotch. The seams of the tight rubber outfit dug into the apex of her bladder. d she could barely sit still. They finally arrived at the hotel, but all the rooms were booked. Poonam had tears in her eyes and pressure rising. The assistant pleaded with the staff to find a solution, but they refused to help them out. Poonam had to spend the night in her car, unable to relieve herself for almost 10 more hours. The night was hell for Poonam. She tried to distract herself by listening to music, but the discomfort was almost unbearable. As dawn broke, she headed to the airport, but the journey took longer than expected due to an accident. Poonam was pulling her hair out in desperation. Finally, they arrived, and she rushed to the restroom but heard the final boarding call. She had to choose between the relief and the flight back home. She chose the latter and settled into her seat, hoping for some relief during the flight. The onboard restrooms were closed due to turbulence, which made Poonam's discomfort worse. She tried to distract herself with thoughts of her loved ones, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. Every time the plane shook a jet of pee shot into her thongs. She tightly grabbed her crotch and held her breath to stem the flow. The mere thought of enduring the flight without relief was too much to bear. Poonam's body was in agony. Every breathe felt like a knife being stabbed in her bladder. Her lower back ached, her thighs numb and vagina on fire. She called the airhostess to ask how much longer the flight had before landing but the news was not good. To prevent entering the storm the pilot was taking a longer route which meant additional hour of time. She turned white with fear. Waiting for each minute was like a year for her and the air hostess dropped a bomb on her telling that there was additional hour to go. 66 hours of pee boiled inside her bladder threatening to flood the entire cabin. Poonam closed her eyes and prayed for the plane to land soon, but the wait seemed never-ending. As the plane finally touched down, Poonam took baby steps out of the flight and inched towards the restrooms. Her body was simply not in a position to wait any longer, and she could feel herself leaking just by seeing the symbol of the ladies' room. But as she finally reached the restroom, she was devastated to see that the line for the ladies' room was incredibly long. Poonam pleaded with the women in front of her to allow her to go first, but nobody cooperated. She was forced to leave the airport, carrying her swollen bladder, and feeling utterly defeated. The Final-Final Leg: As she sat in the cab, Poonam's desperation grew more and more unbearable. Every bump on the road sent shock waves through her body, and she clutched the seat tightly, trying to hold it in. Finally, she reached the parking space of her apartment, but the challenge was far from over. Poonam knew that she was running out of time. She got out of the cab, her heart pounding with fear, and tried to walk as calmly as possible. But her bladder was now beyond her control, and she felt spurts of pee escape with every breathe. She was still a few meters away from her building, and the road connecting the parking space to her building was busy with people and vehicles. If anyone saw Poonam they would assume Poonam had stepped out right after a bath. Her eyes were red and body drenched with sweat. So much sweat that every movement caused a squelching noise. The passer by looked at her with astonishment and concern. When anyone tried to approach her Poonam simply signaled them with her hands to step away. Each milli-second was precious. Finally, she reached the door of her building, her hands shaking with desperation. She managed to open the door and rushed to the elevator. The elevators in her building were the fastest in the city but on this fateful day, it seemed to have slowed down. The lift took nearly 3 minutes to come down from the 60th floor. Poonam was nearly curled up on the floor. Her breath was labored, and hot jets of piss kept erupting out of her pussy. 73 hours’ worth of piss was confined in her cavernous bladder which had stretched beyond its limits. Her muscles were cramped and overworked. She wept silently once she got into the elevator. Every passing ding was like a hammer blow to her bladder. People came in and went out on different floors forcing Poonam to stand straight and act normally. Nearly 7 long minutes later, Poonam crawled to her apartment. She frantically pee danced in front of the door muttering curses under her breath. But the keys were nowhere to be found. With one hand shoved inside her crotch almost cutting through the rubber, she struggled to open all the compartments in her handbag. The insides of her rubber outfit were now getting warm. She screamed in frustration and collapsed down. She simply couldn’t believe her luck. After 3 long days without using the toilet, after enduring so much torture and pain, she finally reached her apartment, hoping to find some relief, only to be faced with another challenge. Fate seemed to play a sick game with her as-if they were trying to prevent Poonam from peeing at any cost. But Poonam knew that getting angry wouldn't solve the problem. To her utter dismay her mobile battery had dried out. In a fit of rage, she threw it on the wall. Tears rolled down her cheek. The in-built corset was not enough to hide her bladder bulge. It was sticking out obscenely. Her head started spinning merely thinking about the amount of piss she was holding. She took help of the wall and stood up. Gravity was wreaking havoc on her heavy bladder and her needle thin heels were burning her calves. She straightened herself, took a deep breath and started walking towards the lift. Minutes later she reached the reception of the building. The receptionist was confused because Poonam was struggling to frame sentences now. “C-C-Call a locksmith” A whisper came out of Poonam’s mouth. “Sorry Ma’am” The receptionist “CALL A FUCKING LOCKSMITH NOW!” The receptionist was taken aback. She immediately dialed the locksmith. Poonam requested her for a private lobby or a cabin to sit in but there were none. So, she was forced to sit in the open lobby where each passer-by could see her. Her body was shaking vigorously. She sat on her heels rocking. She could taste her piss at the back of her tongue. Despite all this she was forced to keep her hands away from her crotch. Her lips throbbed and she barely had any strength to clench her muscles any harder. It took another two hours to get a locksmith. By the time he arrived she had leaked a copious amount of piss inside her tight catsuit. The leakage would be equivalent to a normal woman’s most desperate pee. Poonam followed the locksmith who managed to open the door. As she was tried to rush inside the locksmith he demanded for his payment. Poonam was weeping now. The toilet was just a few feet away from her and still she could not rush. She barely kept cash in her handbag. She requested him to wait for a few minutes but he was adamant that he was running out of time. Poor Poonam walked to her closet and there was none. She begged him to allow her some time to arrange and take the cash later in the day, but he was firm. Little did he know that a full gallon of piss was compressed inside her bladder. The bulge in her bladder was hard as steel, which distorted the corset. Her pregnant like bulge covered her entire midriff. If she could, she would have slapped that locksmith and gotten him thrown out but that would damage her reputation. So, she gritted her teeth, hobbled to an ATM and gave him the cash. Poonam’s body was on autopilot. She barely registered how she was functioning. Her skin inside her tight catsuit was taut. One could see her veins had she been naked. The pee which she had leaked earlier had now gotten somewhat cold and were rubbing against her pussy driving her mad. All the muscles in her thighs were tensed as if she had just finished a cycling race. Her back was arched, and her hair was all messy. But more than all that her muscles were strained beyond imagination. One after the other they spasmed. After a long strenuous walk from the ATM to the elevator and then to her apartment, Poonam had finally made it home. Her makeup was running down her sweaty face, just like her piss leaking from her vagina. But she had made it without a single trip to the bathroom in the last 3 days and over a gallon of steaming piss inside her bladder. Once the door closed, she could not walk anymore though. Her body simply refused to listen to her commands. She was seeing stars in front of her eyes. Sweat oozing out throughout her body. Her body shook violently. “Aahhhhh” she cried and collapsed on the floor, breaking the needle stiletto heels. The impact was too much for her. Her muscles simply could not bear any more strain. The jerk hit her like a freight train and boom! Her floodgates burst opened. “Noooooo!” Poonam cried, clasping her crotch. A violent gusher erupted out of her pussy forming a bulge at her crotch, as if there was a hard dick inside. That’s when she realized how hot the piss coming out was. It felt as if it was artificially heated. None of the piss was spreading out or leaking on the expensive rug below, thanks to the thick rubber outfit. All the tight confinement was giving an intense pleasure to Poonam. She orgasmed multiple times as the thick ferocious flow continued over a minute in full strength. A hissing sound akin to an open tap filled the room. Her eyes rolled up and her breath was short and swallowed. A gallon of piss filled up her catsuit and her legs, her crotch, her ass everything was squelching with hot piss. It was strangely titillating. As piss continued to gush out of her, she ran her hands all over her body feeling her up. After close to 2 and a half minutes the torrent finally stopped all of a sudden. Her muscles contracted violently to push everything out at once. Just when she tried to get up, one more hot stream of piss erupted again. Her kidneys were pumping piss into her bladder, and it was releasing them in real-time. This one was even stronger, sending her into an orgasm overdrive. Over a minute later her stream finally came to an end, gifting her a massive orgasm. Poonam was now lying on the floor with her fingers rubbing her piss-soaked clit, enjoying the bliss of her finally empty bladder. She had almost forgotten what it felt like to have an empty bladder. As she tried to get up an epiphany struck her. “What if I can bring myself to an orgasm every time I hold it to my limits?” Poonam bit her lips in anticipation as she geared up for her next big voluntary hold. The next day Poonam had her toilet bowl removed from her home, making the entire media go crazy. Poonam being Poonam, announced it to the world, “You know what’s my secret to strongest orgasms people – holding my pee till I burst!” She was now an omorashi addict, officially.
  3. That's such a great idea... Building or exploring her present with respect to her past... 😉 Ooohhhh.... She must be really pushed beyond her limits then, isn't it😍
  4. Woah!!! Emily is certainly in a tough spot. Wonder what's in store for her in the world of Omorashi. And the naughty proefessor is a cherry on top. Very well written... Can't wait to read more... 😁
  5. Yana woke up with a jolt. The gusher of the piss and the warmth felt so real that she panicked. She dreamt of pissing herself in the office in front of everyone. Thankfully it was just a coin sized spot on her thong. A dull but strong ache plagued her lower belly reminding her of the bladder burst challenge with her colleagues last evening. Yana immediately hopped into the bathroom; her eyes fell on the enticing porcelain bowl. It shined as a beam of sunlight fell on it from the wide glass window. As if the heavens themselves were seducing her to come and release the gusher she was brewing for nearly a day now. She tore away her tiny thong and landed her bum on the seat. The floodgates opened instantly. An inch thick stream of hot piss, hit the water below, forming dense white froth. Hardly 3 seconds had passed when she suddenly cut the stream going in full force. She winced with pain and hurriedly came out of the bathroom. She started looking for her mobile phone and after losing a few more spurts she finally found it hidden inside the jacket she wore yesterday. Yana’s hands trembled as she tried to enter the complex phone pattern. Her bladder was revolting furiously after being denied relief mid-way. After 4 attempts she finally unlocked her phone and video called her mother. Yana was 27 but she and her twin sister had always been super obedient to her mother, especially about discipline of not peeing in the morning. Her mother had imparted to her that gross bodily functions like peeing must be kept at the last. “Hey. . Hi Mom” Yana began. “Hey sweetypie! Good morning!” Her mother replied while rocking back and forth. “Mom, I-I am in trouble. . I’m bursting for a pee. It’s coming out. . .” “Oh my poor girl! Didn’t you go last night?” “I – I was out at a party. I got drunk and fell asleep as soon as I crashed into the bed” “How many times have I told you TO-NOT-SKIP-BEFORE-BED-PEES? That’s the only appropriate time to go.” “Mom – it – I was drunk” “So what! Look around at all the photos on your wall – what do you see?” Her mother interrupted. “What about them?” “If you look closely, in each photo there’s a noticeable bulge on your bladder. Be it the orange bodycon dress you wore on your graduation where you went on stage with 26 hours of pee, or when we were in the road trip from California to Florida and you managed to hold it throughout the trip. Or that Ted-Y speech where you nearly wet yourself on the stage.” Yana nodded. Tears brimming in her eyes. “Baby, the point is… ahhh” Her mother grabbed her pussy tight. “In all your important events of your life, we ensured that you were always bursting at seams, and you came out with flying colours. It’s our family tradition to put such gross silly bodily functions at the last of everything. We never pee in the morning. Control is everything. Just because you are holding a few cans of beer and missed your only break last night, can’t be an excuse to break the family custom. You better keep it corked up. You must not break the family tradition of discipline and perfectionism.” “Mom, please this is an exception. I have never failed you before.” “That is because we didn’t allow you to fail. And don’t forget all the success that came to you because of this discipline. There-Is-No-Exception-To-This-Rule. Remember that your watch and your mobile is synced to the entire family. The green dots tell me everything.” Her mother sternly replied and hung up on her. Tears fell from Yana’s eyes as she tightly clutched her pussy. It was truly the most desperate she had ever gotten in her life. No girl on the planet could contain 7 pints of beer and nearly a gallon of water and act normally. But here Yana was. The perfectionist of her family. The calendar widget on her phone showed green dots on each past date. Each dot meant one or no pees that day. She hastily scrolled to the left and saw that for months and years each date had a green dot. If she broke the rule there would be one red dot in her otherwise spotless record. The entire family with whom the calendar was synced would know it. That was a mortifying thought. With her hands shoved into her crotch Yana entered the bathroom again. Before her body could prepare itself, she turned on the shower sending her into a frenzy. Her face turned red, and knuckles turned white with the effort of gripping her pussy shut. For most of the shower she remained curled up on the floor with legs crossed tight. After the shower Yana waddled her way downstairs and finished her breakfast. Solid English breakfast coupled with a tall glass of glass of juice. She held the glass of juice in her hand and stared at it with pursed lips. Those additional 350ml of liquid could wreak havoc with her body. But she gulped it down at one go. No mercy whatsoever. The juice hit her bladder like a freight train. The glass fell from her hands as her muscles nearly gave up. She closed her eyes shut while her body shuddered. Around 10 minutes passed before the waves of desperation subsided for a bit. Getting ready for the office was another hurdle Yana had to face. Going out with puffy eyes and messy hair was not an option. Her tag of Miss Florida came as an additional baggage for her. Holding her breath, she started applying the layers of makeup. Cleanser, then toner, moisturiser, foundation, and sunscreen. Each step was slower than the previous. Every time she took her hands out of her crotch a spurt or two leaked. By the time she was done with her makeup she had to discard three thongs. After spending a painful hour in front of the mirror, Yana stood in front of her closet with shaky legs, staring at the tiny brown dress that lay crumpled on the hanger. It was her favourite dress, the one that always made her feel sexy and powerful, but today it seemed like an insurmountable obstacle. She reached for the dress, her hands trembling with anticipation and anxiety, and held it up to her body. But as she tried to slip it on, she could feel the fabric straining against her skin, resisting her every attempt to squeeze into it. She looked down at her bladder, which had ballooned overnight, a bloated and uncomfortable mass that made her feel self-conscious. She could feel tears of frustration and disappointment welling up in her eyes, the sense of defeat almost too much to bear. With a sense of resignation, she turned away from the dress, her mind already racing with thoughts of what to wear instead. She knew that she couldn’t go to work feeling uncomfortable and self-conscious, that she needed to find something that made her feel confident and put-together. But as she rummaged through her closet, her eyes kept drifting back to the brown dress. Finally, she decided to teach her bladder a lesson for not cooperating with her. She took out her dreaded waist clincher and with a deep breath, started wrapping it around her torso. The bulge on her bladder was so big that the hooks were a good few inches apart. Yana however was determined to go through it. Ignoring the way the thick fabric squeezed her bladder underneath, she gave a tight pull and quickly hooked the clincher to the tightest. All the hot piss was suddenly compressed in half the space sending a tsunami of desperation down her pussy. She nearly squatted down and prevented the outburst. A little later Yana squared her shoulders and made her way out the door, determined to face the day with all the confidence and power that the brown dress represented. She knew that it wouldn’t be easy, that she would have to fight against her frantic needs, but she was ready for the challenge. After all, she was an office lady, and nothing could stop her from achieving her goals. The sun was already high in the sky when Yana rushed to her car. In her quest to teach her bladder a lesson, she had spent too much time in front of the mirror and was now running late for work. But as she slid into the driver’s seat another wave hit her hard. The clincher had literally compressed her bladder to a size of a tennis ball. Pee rushed to her overworked urethra and hit it like a freight train. Sweat dripped from her forehead and neck into her deep cleavage. She rested her head on the steering wheel and jammed her hand into her tightly layered crotch. She reluctantly tried to start the car and realized that her legs felt heavy and stiff. Every movement sent a sharp jolt of pain shooting through her bladder. She winced and groaned as she twisted the key in the ignition, hoping against hope that the car would start, and she could make it to work on time. But the car wouldn’t start, and her frustration grew with each failed attempt. She was already running late, and now this? She tried to shake off the excruciating pain in her bladder and focus on the task at hand, but it was no use. Every movement felt like a Herculean effort, and she could feel her patience wearing thin. As she leaned her head back against the headrest, her mind raced with all the things she needed to do that day. Meetings, deadlines, emails, phone calls…the list was endless. She knew she couldn’t afford to be late, but how could she drive when every movement was agony? She took a deep breath and tried to steel herself, gripping the steering wheel tightly as she attempted to push through the pain. Her foot hovered over the gas pedal, but she couldn’t bring herself to press down. She knew she needed to get moving, but the pain was just too much. Her bladder needed a relief – N-O-W! Finally, she relented and slumped back in her seat, tears welling up in her eyes. She was trapped, unable to move forward and unable to go back. Her mind raced with all the ways this could impact her reputation and her life, just because she could not hold her pee all day. The minutes ticked by, and she sat there, her mind and body wracked with ungodly desperation. The mistake of breaking the seal for 3 seconds and losing the spurts was making things even more difficult. For the unreserved, the solution was simple. Just go to the toilet and piss to heart’s content but Yana was built different. Holding pee was her way of life and in that moment, it felt like the weight of the world was crushing her. Somehow, Yana booked a cab and started for office. Throughout the ride Yana had her hands shoved in her crotch. Each bump was a blow to her bladder and sent pee rushing down her pee hole. Her legs were crossed so tight like a pretzel that her inner thighs were burning with pain. To add to her woes the leg room of the cab was so limited that her knees almost came to her chest compressing her bladder further. The cab driver kept yelling at her to not spoil the seats. She could not even respond to him fearing the loss of control. After a perilous hour, Yana finally reached her office. She nearly fell out of the cab upon exiting. Her legs had gotten numb. Another spurt shot out of her pussy. Fortunately, her dress was so short that the piss ran down her thighs. She had never been late to the office before and knew that her boss would not take it kindly on her. Taking a deep breath, she stood up and hobbled towards the office as quickly as possible. The click of her 6-inch heels was heard all across the floor and everyone craned their necks to ogle at her. Her massive sweaty boobs threatened to pop out of her undersized dress, but she had no time to bother and adjust it. Little did she know what was in store for her. Yana steadily reached the conference room taking small steps. If she cast wide steps, her muscles would not be able to contain the lake anymore. She thanked her stars that for the next hour or two she was only required to listen to a boring presentation. But all hell broke loose when her boss asked her to lead the presentation since the original staffer had called in sick. Her body filled with goosebumps and tremors of desperation seared through her bladder. All her daydreams of quietly rubbing her thighs to stimulate herself with a full bladder vanished. Another drop pushed its way out of her pee hole and crawled from her inner thighs, making her wiggle. The entire conference room got a good view of her sweaty butt cheeks and the tight thong she had underneath her short dress. She stood at the front of the conference room blankly. Her heart raced as her pussy lips quiver violently. The pressure inside her bladder nearly doubled. as she tried to steady herself. “Do you need to use the restroom Yana?” Her boss asked as if to embarrass her on purpose. “Like a racehorse” Yana genuinely replied biting her lips. The entire conference room started laughing. They all thought she was joking out of nervousness. She cleared her throat and began to speak, but her voice was shaky and uneven. She stumbled over her words, trying desperately to keep her focus, but it was no use. Her mind was a whirlwind of nerves and anxiety, and she struggled to not to let the flood escape. As she glanced out at the sea of faces before her, she felt a surge of panic rise up in her chest. She had always struggled with public speaking, but this was something else entirely. The stakes were higher, the pressure greater, and the scrutiny more intense. She tried to push through her nerves, but her mind kept racing, tripping over her words, and causing her to lose her place in her notes. She felt a trickle of pee slide down her thighs, and her heart raced as she tried to regain her composure. The silence in the room seemed to stretch on forever, punctuated only by the sound of her own ragged breathing. She knew she had to keep going, to push through the desperation and make it to the end of her presentation, but the thought of continuing felt almost unbearable. A member suddenly interrupted Yana to ask a question. His loud voice startled her, breaking her concentration. Her bladder, which seemed to have a mind of its own, violently contracted and tried to push the piss out. She had microseconds to act and in that moment of desperation, she closed her eyes and grabbed the seams of her skirt. Even though the temptation to grab the crotch was intense but she relied only on her clenched muscles to contain the disaster. The battle between her bladder and her will was being witness with other members of the room. After 30 awkward seconds Yana emerged victorious; the flood was contained for now. She was panting but eventually managed to re-focus on the task at hand. With renewed determination, Yana opened her eyes and began to speak again, her voice still a little shaky, but steadier than before. Her legs remained crossed tightly and she sticked to her position on the dais. As she spoke, she felt a sense of control return, and the words flowed more easily from her lips. Bit by bit, she made her way through the presentation, feeling a growing sense of confidence and pride with each passing minute. And as she finished her final slide and the room erupted into applause, she knew that despite her nerves, she had done it. After the presentation Yana’s boss approached her. “Yana that was one hell of a presentation!” The boss began. “But I would really appreciate if you could learn to control yourself better. Frankly it was embarrassing”. Yana could not help but nod. All she wanted was some alone time to give a long re-assuring squeeze to her pussy. “I love how you’re always focussed on work and don’t take bathroom breaks like the rest of the girls. I hope you take my feedback constructively. And yes, the clients seemed to be very happy that you didn’t rush to the bathroom in the middle of the presentation. Please continue to hold and work on your abilities to hide it”. As soon as the boss left the meeting room Yana collapsed into the nearest chair. Her calves and heels were burning in those nearly vertical stilettos and her bladder relentlessly sent spasm after spasm. Her eyes fixed on the computer screen in front of her. She had been standing non-stop for over 2 hours now in an un-imaginable condition. Her brain felt fuzzy and overloaded. All she wanted was a few minutes to take a breather, clear her mind, and somehow ease the pain in her bladder. She thought of quickly hopping in the only bathroom which she used at work to loosen her clincher, but it seemed that fate was not on her side. Yana’s colleagues, a group of chatty and boisterous individuals, seemed to sense her fatigue, and instead of giving her space, they circled around her like vultures, peppering her with a never-ending stream of inane gossip and pointless chatter. At first, she tried to engage with them, nodding and smiling politely as they chattered on about their weekend plans and office drama. But as the minutes ticked by, her patience wore thin, and she found herself growing increasingly irritated with each new interruption. She longed to tell them to just leave her alone, to give her some space and let her breathe, but she knew that wouldn't be well-received. She gripped the armrests of the chair so tightly that her nail pierced the cushioning and kept her legs close together. Seeing that the gang wouldn’t leave Yana pretended to busy herself in the screen in-front, hoping that they would take the hint and go back to their own desks. But it was no use. They continued to chatter and interrupt, their voices growing louder and more grating with each passing minute. She could feel her bladder growing inside and her grip on her muscles loosening. Frustration and exhaustion mounting, her brain struggling to make sense of the chaos around her. In the spur of the moment Yana stood up from the chair, hoping that the physical act of standing would give her some sense of control. But instead, it seemed to only draw more attention to her, and her colleagues crowded around her, their voices rising to a fever pitch. Yana felt a ball form inside her pee hole just like it happens when we stop our pee midstream. The only difference being, under normal circumstances the feeling subsided but in her case the pressure simply kept growing with every passing second. Her body was shaking with the efforts to act normal and hold the flood. She wanted nothing more than to fast forward the day to her bedtime and piss to her heart’s content. But for now, she had to endure. She even tried to exit the conference room, but it seemed that everywhere she turned, there was someone there, blocking her path. “What happened Yana?” One of the office girls taunted “Trying to run off to the toilets like a schoolgirl? Or the beer from last night’s contest is still coming out” The rest of the girls burst into laughter. “If you remember correctly, I am the only girl in office who has never seen the insides of our bathrooms here unlike you all. So, if you’ll excuse me, I have got more important stuff to do. And yes, before I leave, all the beer from last night is still inside my bladder. SAFE AND CORKED.” Yana fired back and stormed out. The veins on her forehead almost popped out with the strain of putting such a long sentence together. As Yana inched down the hallway her eyes fell on the smoking zone. She suddenly remembered that there was a small toilet behind it which was not covered by an CCTV. It was the only bathroom which she was comfortable using as nobody else knew about it. She could simply release a tiny bit to give her bladder some room to contain the boiling piss inside. In this way even the fitness tracker would not be able to detect any anomaly and she would somehow manage to last till midnight. This quick break was like a beacon of hope in the midst of her otherwise disastrous day. Yana sneaked in the smoking room and observed that there was another man smoking in the corner. She lit her Misty 120 cigarettes nonchalantly and leaned on the wall turning her back to the man. In one hand she had the cigarette, and the other hand was tightly curled into a fist pressing against her crotch. Each time she blew out the smoke her control seemed to slip away. She gritted her teeth and continued to act calm. The man on the other side got a phone call which added to her woes. Yana cursed the guy under her breathe and smoked another Misty and the another. The man simply refused to leave. She was doing a full-blown pee dance when he was not looking. Her pussy quivered merely by looking at the door of the secluded toilet. After an agonizing half hour, the guy finally started walking towards the door, Yana made her move. She could practically taste her piss. The clincher seemed to push all her organs up in order to contain her ever growing ball of piss. As the distance between the toilet and her decreased, her heart leaped with excitement at the prospect of a few moments of peace and indulgence. But just as she was about to cross the threshold into the toilet, her phone rang, its piercing tone shattering the calm of the moment. With a sense of frustration, she reached for her phone, noting the caller ID with annoyance. It was her boss, and she knew that whatever he was calling about, it wasn't likely to be good news. With a sense of reluctance, she answered the call, her mind already half-focused on the glorious relief just a few feet away. The tone of her boss was enough to scare Yana. She was calling her into a last-minute meeting, one that couldn't wait until later in the day. Yana tried to protest, to explain that she had been about to take a break, but the boss was insistent. Despite her aching, burning pee hole, Yana turned away from the So-close toilet and headed back towards her desk, her bladder throbbing in protest. She could feel the disappointment and frustration welling up within her. She cursed herself under her breath for being so irresponsible last night and not taking her before bed pee. But she knew that she couldn't let her emotions get the better of her, that she needed to focus on the task at hand and push through the rest of her day. With a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and prepared to face whatever challenges lay ahead, even if it meant sacrificing her eye-wateringly urgent need to piss. Three begrudgingly slow hours passed, and the duo had downed a couple of coffees. To make situations worse Yana had to sit in those extremely low and uncomfortable bean bags. She hated bean bags to begin with, but she was forced to sit in the same as they were the only ones in her boss’s ultra-modern cabin. Her bladder had virtually no space to store the liquid being rapidly pumped by her kidneys. With the laptop on her thighs and both her hands on the keyboard, she had to sit absolutely straight and still. The poor girl had no way to even adjust her sitting position for the fear of dropping her laptop or worse, leaking on the couch. Tears fell from her eyes on to the keyboard every time her bladder sent pangs. She frantically needed to reach her crotch for a quick squeeze. Finally at 6 in the evening her boss let her go. Yana thanked her boss and did her best to not look desperate. But once she stood gravity came crashing down on her bladder. She lost her balance and fell on the couch again. A stinging pain ran through her bladder to her pee hole. A yelp escaped from her mouth as she tightly clutched the couch and quickly brought her legs close to stem the outburst. “Yana! Babe you gotta behave yourself.” Her boss warned her. Only if her boss realized that Yana had been holding it for past 42 hours, she may have been a little more empathetic. Yana however was in no position to convey the same. Her bladder screamed for a release. Once out of the cabin she quickened her pace as best as could and approached the smoking zone pantry. She had been looking forward to this break all day, the promise of a sweet release to contain her massive load of piss. As she neared the doorway of the smoking zone, her bladder started shooting jets of pee. Her thong was now drenched. The last few seconds were always the most difficult to hold. Her face was all scrunched up and red from the strain. Finally, she could see the light streaming out from under the door, a warm and welcoming glow that beckoned her closer. But as she reached for the door handle, she screamed with utter disappointment. The door to the toilet was closed. Yana was at the end of her tether. Her need to piss was no longer controllable. She was frantic and somehow needed to hold it out. She could feel a sense of frustration and annoyance building within her, her mind already conjuring up images of the delicious relief just separated by a locked door. She screamed aloud in anger, but no one was there who could help her except her own. With a sense of desperation, she pressed her ear to the door, hoping to hear some sign of life inside. But all she could hear was the sound of her own breath, and the muffled hum of the air conditioning system. She tried the door handle again, hoping that it had simply been stuck, but it refused to budge. In her despair, she violently shook the door, pulled a hair pin and tried to pick the lock but in vain. It was as if the universe had conspired against her, denying her relief by whatever means possible. She could feel a knot forming in her stomach, a sense of disappointment and frustration threatening to overwhelm her. She knew that she needed to find some way to contain the ocean inside her and manage the rest of the time at office. It was a herculean task for her. She was on borrowed time. Yana hobbled back to her seat and frantically started closing the last few activities typing away at the keyboard. All she wanted to do was go home and relieve here overworked bladder. But there was one problem: she couldn't book a cab. Her fingers trembled with anxiety as she refreshed the page again and again. Each time, the same message taunted her: "No cabs available at this time." Yana bit her lip in frustration. She had tried everything she could think of. She had even gone down to the lobby to ask the receptionist for help, but all she got was a shrug and a sympathetic smile. As the minutes ticked by, Yana's anxiety grew. She knew she had to get home soon – her bladder was now shooting spurts every few minutes and she had run out of wet wipes. She but her lip and gently tried to press on her bladder to assess how bad exactly was the situation. It could have been that all the desperation was simply caused because she had put on the undersized waist clincher. But the moment she pressed her bladder she died a thousand deaths. It was as if someone stabbed tens of knives into her bladder. Yana looked out the window, watching the traffic snarl by. She could see the taillights of other cabs flickering in the distance, but none of them seemed to be heading in her direction. She shoved her hand into her crotch and took out her phone. For a brief second, she closed her eyes, willing herself to remain calm. She knew she couldn't give up – she had to keep trying. So, she refreshed the page once more, and waited. And finally, after what seemed like an eternity, a notification popped up: "Cab Confirmed." Yana jumped up from her chair, grabbed her bag, and waddled out of the office. The cool evening air, hit her like a freight train. All of a sudden, her desperation shot up by 10 folds. It boggled her mind just to think how much more desperate he could get. Before she could compose herself, her cab arrived to pick her up. Yana got in the back of the cab holding her breath. Her eyes glued to the slow-moving traffic outside and hand in her crotch. She restlessly shifted in her seat, trying to get comfortable, but it was no use. Two hours had passed since she got into the cab, and it barely covered a quarter of distance to her home. She was sweating profusely despite the AC being on. Her brown dress clung tightly to the body and the seams of the waist clincher underneath pierced into the apex of her bladder. The cab driver asked her if she needed to pee badly. “Badly is an understatement” Yana responded with a strained voice. Little did the cab driver know how much Yana was holding insider her severely compressed bladder. 7 pints of beer, over 2 and a half litres of water, and a good few cups of coffee and yet she had manager to keep the ocean inside her with just a few leaks over the last 45 hours. Every bump in the road felt like a jolt to her bladder, and she winced with discomfort. She tried to distract herself by scrolling through her phone, but even that became a challenge as her concentration waned. Her body shuddered with pain and drops of pee leaked from her vagina. Yana glanced out the window, hoping to spot a rest stop or even a secluded area where she could relieve herself. But there was nothing – just a sea of cars stretching out before her. Her desperation grew with every passing minute. She crossed her legs and clenched her muscles, trying to hold it in. But the pressure was becoming unbearable. Yana shifted again, this time reaching for her bag. Maybe there was something in there that could help her. She rummaged through it, her heart racing with anticipation, but all she found was a bottle of water. Her throat was dry as a desert, so she gulped a few sips. And that proved fatal. It was as if the extra 200 ml of water went and hit her bladder directly. Yana was feeling lightheaded, and her body was going numb. She leaned back against the seat, her eyes closing in agony. The traffic outside seemed to taunt her, as if it were never going to let up. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the cab pulled up in front of Yana's home. She wanted to run but any movement could result into a full-blown accident. She requested the cab driver to help her. The lady was kind enough and helped Yana to reach her door. While any other driver would have left immediately, she waited. Yana conveyed her to go but then the lady driver requested her, “Ma’am I too haven’t pissed since I left home early morning. Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” Tears welled up in Yana’s eyes, but she agreed. “S-Sure – I can wait a little longer”. Yana fumbled with her keys as her entire body shook violently. The cab driver too had her legs crossed tight and bit her lips nervously. As soon as the door opened, both ladies lost a huge spurt in their clothes. “Straight and left” Yana managed to whisper as the cab driver rushed inside. The sound of the driver’s gusher was too much to bear but Yana still managed to bear the torture silently. A few agonizing minutes later the driver emerged from the bathroom with sweat all over her body but relieved expressions. She thanked Yana and quickly left. As soon as the door closed behind her, Yana literally tore away her dress and her thong. The only thing that remained between her and the sweet-sweet relief was the distance of a few feet. But something was wrong. Her legs felt stiff, and crotch was burning. The pain in her bladder reached new heights and jets of pee started coming out of her pussy like a fire hose. The inevitable finally happened. The damn burst open. The tidal wave arrived. After nearly two days, perhaps the longest Yana had gone without using the toilets, her bladder, her muscles, and her will could no longer contain the boiling piss inside. All her valiant efforts were now in vain. Her muscles violently contracted and tried to push out an entire gallon of pee at once. Clear transparent piss erupted out of her pussy in an inch thick stream forming a huge puddle on the floor. It spread in all directions covering quite a considerable radius. She moaned with pleasure and panted as the gusher continued for over 3 minutes. Her eyes rolled up and body shuddered as it entered a series of orgasms. Without even knowing Yana had started stroking and rubbing her clit through the thick torrent of piss. After the monstrosity of the load was over, Yana collapsed She stayed there for what felt like ages, savouring the sensation of finally being able to let go after such a long hold. She checked her mobile and the dot was still green. Yana heaved a sigh of relief and started to laugh. It was a lesson learned – never again would she underestimate the importance of taking her designated piss break.
  6. Thank you for the appreciation and giving me suggestions. As a writer getting to know what the readers want is absolutely crucial. Your inputs help me a lot... As of now... I was commissioned to only write the story. I added the opening pic as a value addition. Though, now that you mention it I might try making illustrations as well. Can't promise anything though 😊
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