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eucoloco

Soaked Member
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  1. Upvote
    eucoloco reacted to Rexone_312 in Rexone Story Commissions   
    You amazing person! Thank you for always cheering me up! You are the real one :-D
  2. Upvote
    eucoloco reacted to badwolf000 in The love island!   
    Looking forward to reading more
  3. Upvote
    eucoloco got a reaction from Kei in Shall they pee or not?   
    I like it so much
    Vote: B
    Well.. Kyle drank and worked out with Josh. It would be great getting to know Kyle's condition... and keep our macho guys shut, dry... ok, in pain, but they're tough, right 😉🔥
  4. Upvote
    eucoloco reacted to Frooger in Rexone Story Commissions   
    Again Rex Wow! Just Wow! Loved this story aswell as everything you write. I usally no fan of male desperation, but you write it so well I enhjoy that too,
    Thanks for giving us so amazing stories
  5. love
    eucoloco reacted to Rexone_312 in Rexone Story Commissions   
    More will be coming. Stay tuned 😁
  6. love
    eucoloco got a reaction from Rexone_312 in Rexone Story Commissions   
    Hey, your stories are the best. Let me say that again.
    I'm a male desperation fan and I love reading male and female here
    U had a full bladder time writing those? For inspiration
    U can tell me here or in private as md isn't the hot spot for most here maybe
    Great great again 
    Oh and already looking forward to pt 2... I love Rex lol
  7. love
    eucoloco reacted to Rexone_312 in Rexone Story Commissions   
    Yes. I am so happy that you read the story and you're always there whenever I post a new one. ❤️
     
    And I hear you, male desperation is not liked by everyone. I am going to tweak my stories in such a way that it can be enjoyed by both set of people. I am trying to be as inclusive as possible... 
  8. love
    eucoloco reacted to Rexone_312 in Rexone Story Commissions   
    Hi Omo Lovers! I have come with a new story for you all.
    Our college heroine Disha returns for more bladder bursting action. It includes both male and female pee desperation.
    Do let me know in your comments what you think of it. It would mean a lot to me :-D <3
    Now let's get started:
    Sunrise to Sunrise - 3.0: 
    Day 0 – The Plan:
    A few weeks after the tech conference our semesters got over, followed by a 3-week holiday. My life changed forever since that eventful night at hotel. I was an absolute favourite of the group, may be except Disha. Truth be told, I had been fucking them day-in, day-out throughout the term especially when I was nursing a close to throbbing bladder. “We really got to pit you against Disha. Would be epic.” They often joked. I never really cared why.
     
    Around 4 days before the holidays got over, my phone buzzed. I was added into a WhatsApp group by the same gang of girls. “What’s up girls?” I began. What followed was a flood of messages and I was invited to a 2-day staycation to a beach-hours. It was their idea of a ‘BANGING’ start to the new term. All the 4 girls were ‘persuasive’ enough to convince my dick.
     
    Day 1 – The Backdrop:
    The next morning, around 6AM, I woke up with the usual strong ache in my bladder. One could hear my pee slosh inside me. “Delicious!” I thought to myself kneading my dick – the only one allowed after waking up. I wanted to push my limits for long and the trip presented the perfect opportunity. After a nice fake pee to taunt my bladder I changed into layers of tighter briefs - the kind which really squeezed my meat hard. It was a struggle to fit my distended bladder in my jeans. Buttoning it up definitely worsened the ache. I was making it super hard on myself, that’s what strong men do, right?.
     
    As I had my quick breakfast my phone buzzed. “We are here Rex. Don’t you keep your girls waiting. I felt my stomach churn in excitement. They arrived sharp at 7AM. I hurriedly chugged my daily jar of cranberry juice. My bladder was angry with the inflow of this additional load, but I silenced it like every other morning. I wanted to push myself beyond my routine of 36 hours. My manhood stiffened inside as I imagined myself laying the entire trip without a drop of relief. Of course, it was risky, but I would rather wet myself than pissing in front of my fuck friends.  Breakfast was had. I tanked up more liquids as I normally would, telling my bladder to somehow find room to expand. I filled up my bottles and started off. Fortunately, my parents were asleep, so they didn’t suspect me to be holding or anything.
     
    I was welcomed by my lovely half-naked friends. Crop tops, unbuttoned shirts, micro shorts, and what not! “I used to think girls only dressed like these in the movies,” I chuckled as they pulled me in the backseat. I was immediately hard, being squeezed two top-heavy hotties. As we sped off the two had their hands, already fondling my inner thighs. One of them whispered in my ear, “Rex, if this obscene - wait till we pick up Disha!”.
     
    “WAIT! WHAT? WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME EARLIER?!! She was not even in the WhatsApp group!” I was so annoyed. I would have made sure to be extra cautious with my drinks then.
    “Chill! It was all last minute!” The girls started talking together. “She called me up at 1 in the morning and asked every fucking detail of the plan!”.
    “She seemed pretty excited about it.”
    “Of course she would be! She thinks she can hold it for two days!”
    “Our big boy bruised her ego after that overflowing performance at the hotel.”
    “She trains non-stop for it.”
    I was intrigued. What more could she possibly do to hold longer? My mind was clouded with so many questions.
    “Well, Rex has trained us too. I think we can hold longer than her, if need be.”
    “Nah! C’mon. . .” The girls bantered and suddenly we were tossed inside the cabin. THUD THUD – a loud noise filled the cabin, as the car went over a nasty pothole. I winced in discomfort as the elbow of the girls poked into my bladder. It caught their attention. “Woah! What’s up with you Rex?” The girl to my left leaned on me cupping my stiff member. “Did you skip your morning pee too?” Another one chimed in. I felt their hands pushing and prodding my bladder and the bulge of my dick.
     
    “Nothing to worry about!” I just smiled and shrugged it off. Inside my mind, I was beaming with pride though.
    “How much? How long?” They looked at me biting their lips and dilated pupils.
    “Relax girls, I held more than this when I was a kid,” I tried to act calm, but the sudden jolt and so much attention surely dialled the pressure up. In fact, I was fighting the growing waves with sheer willpower.
    “When are you planning to go?”
    “Not soon.” I looked straight into their eyes, gripping their waist tightly. Little did they know I was clenching my pee hole just as hard to hold my twenty-two hours’ worth of pee.
    “Jeez, you are making me wet already.” The girls wiggled closer.
     
    Day 1 – The Drama:
    At 9AM our car halted right outside the driveway to Disha’s house, but she was nowhere to be seen. The girl at the wheel dialed Disha and shushed us. I was fanning my legs already in anticipation. The girls held my thighs firmly and signaled me not to do so. Little did they know how hard the breakfast juices were hitting me.  
    “Babe where are you? We are outside?”
    “W-wait. I am just. . .” There was a sound of a water being chugged from a bottle. Disha seemed breathless.
    “Disha, I told you a thousand times, DO-NOT-SKIP-YOUR-MORNING-PEE!” The girl grinned at me. “You know what happened the last time at the Tech con, right?”
    “I peed just a while ago!” Disha tried to convince, still panting.
    “What exactly do you mean by A-WHILE-AGO?” The girls kept grilling Disha.
    “6PM, yesterday! Ok bye!” She hurriedly hung up the phone. I swear I heard her gasp before the call dropped. 15 hours, I noted to myself as opposed to 24 hours of mine.
    “Please don’t tell her that you heard the call. She tends to get a little whiny when she is desperate for a pee.” The girls rushed me out of the car and strapped me to the driver seat.
     
    I forced a smile as pee rushed to my aching pee hole. When I turned my head towards the doorstep, where the gang was waiting. They seemed a slightly squirmy. A quick look at the half empty water bottles and crushed juice cans told me the reason. The drama started a short minute later when the door opened. There she was - the bustiest and sexiest of them all. The pressure in my bladder was immediately replaced by raging arousal looking at her.
     
    Disha was naked, well almost, her boobs heaved dangerously as she happily chugged from a litre of water, without a care. Her mother looked at her with anger and contempt. Her younger sister too came out – probably 11 or 12 years old. She started pulling Disha’s belt or skirt – whatever was stretched across her hips. She hurriedly gulped down the water and pulled her black thong and skirt back in place. “Dee! That’s my tube top. You can’t just wear it like a skirt. Mom she has taken all my tube tops in her bag.” The little girl complained.
     
    “I am warning you Disha - a bra and a belt cannot be your dress!” Her mother was furious. “And what’s with all that water? You haven’t used the bathroom since yesterday evening!”
    “Ma! This is a bralette, and this is a skirt, not a belt.” Disha was equally furious, “And stop embarrassing me. I am an adult; I can hold my pee.”
    “Disha! Don’t get started with holding again,” Her mother suddenly grabbed her arm. “Just get changed and for God sake, go to the bathroom before you leave. You are swollen.”
    “Just let me go, Ma!” She whisked her arm away, “I am covered properly, and I am just going to control!”
    “Disha, she is right – just be comfortable before we start!” The girls tried to reason but that only strengthened her determination.
     
    Day 1 – The Pickup:
    Disha strutted to the car angrily and paused for a moment to steady herself. She took a deep breath before hopping inside the car. I ogled at her glistening silicone globes squishing and bursting out of her cups. “Like what you see?” She began with a slight shakiness in her voice. “I love it but that’s not quite enough” I winked at her, and we finally began the journey. It took a while before the tension eased out and soon began her banter with us.
     
    The morning sun lit her perfect face and her sweaty cleavage shimmered; I caught her biting her puffy lips after constant sips from her bottle. She gripped her smooth milky thighs whenever we bumped potholes. Shifting in her seat was a constant. She tried to be casual but to me it was carefully strategized. I was sure that the water was already catching her up. But not an ‘Oof’ came out of her mouth. I determined myself to stay and act just as calm. Around 11AM, all the girls got quieter, including Disha. She was subtly squirming in her seat, trying to push herself against the footboard at times.
     
    “What’s wrong girls? You have all gone quiet.”
    Disha snapped out of her intense concentration. After one quick glance at the girls she sighed, “Looks like I am not alone.”
    “What?” I asked confused.
    “They really have to pee.” She mouthed at me.
     
    I looked at the gang through the mirror. One buried her face in the phone. One looked out of the window, with her hand clutching her waist tightly. The third one sat on her heels biting her lips and the fourth one shoved her hand in between her legs, rocking back and forth. I craned my neck further – their bottles were empty. “Girls,” I announced, “I am going to pull over at a gas station. Does anyone need a quick break except me?” I stressed the last few words as an open challenge to Disha.
     
    The cabin was suddenly electrified. The sudden mention of a break unsettled even Disha. The water from earlier and even the bottle she sipped steadily was almost gone. A distended bulge pushed her skirt down forming a nice whale tail and much to her dismay her organ was filling faster than she liked. As we crawled through the line of cars, tension grew in the cabin. I watched the girls nodding and squirming, waiting to raid the rest room. I found Disha keeping her eyes tightly shut. She quickly placed her hands under her thighs, gripping her thighs tightly – as if to pull them from crossing.
     
    “You too can ‘GO’ Disha?” I fired the first shots. I could feel my heart at the back of my throat. The girls at the backseat stopped moving at once. Pin drop silence prevailed in the cabin.
    “ABSOLUTELY NOT! My bladder can remain shut tight.” She gaped at me with furrowed eyes.
    “I was just concerned for you Disha, that’s all.” I tried to act nonchalant.
    “Really? You know what. . . I am actually going to get myself more juice to drink.” She gulped down her throat.
    “Disha don’t be stupid. You haven’t even gone since yesterday and you have downed so much of water already.” The girls tried to reason.
     
    “I can control myself! You guys are just jealous that you all don’t have enough control.” Disha snapped at all of us. “Prove me wrong. Try not to pee till we reach.” The girls got caught in the crossfire. As the attendant pumped gas into the car, I turned back to Disha. “Disha, you just said you could GET-MORE-JUICE. Go help yourself.” I stressed. She hesitated for a moment but then hurriedly stepped off the car, locking us inside.  Once Disha was gone the girls were all fuming.
    “What does she think of herself?”
    “Are we like schoolgirls to her?”
    “We really need to show her that we all can hold it when the situation demands.”
    “Give us some tips Rex. You are the master here.”
     
    Their words definitely fuelled my boner to levels unknown. I was fighting an epic battle to hold my pee and my orgasm both. I couldn’t believe my luck that I was sharing a ride with 5 desperate girls. “Girls, just remember what I taught you earlier - breathe normally and clench your butthole and . . .” I stopped abruptly as my eyes fell on Disha, as she stood at the vending machines, slightly shifting her weight from one foot to other, calves tensed. Her peachy ass stretched out the undersized skirt. One fist to the sides of her thighs, while she furiously punched the buttons with the other hand.
    “Rex, please tell us more.” They nudged me.
    “Don’t fight it. Just accept that you have to pee and let your muscles handle the load. . .” I started to guide them, but Disha suddenly appeared, balancing a dozen or so mini fruit juice bottles in her arms. I saw their confidence turning into panic in split second. “You got this,” I mouthed to the girls. Disha promptly shoved two bottles in everyone’s hand but kept three for herself. She looked knowingly at me as if telling me – HOLD IT IF YOU CAN.
     
    For the remainder of the journey, Disha kept chugging the bottles like clockwork. After every gulp she gently massaged her bulge. I could hear her breathing through her teeth and that distinct hissing sound. Any bump immediately translated to a suppressed moan or fanning of legs. However, she never resorted to crossing her legs. At the same time, she kept the girls on their toes. When one of them tried to throw away a bottle, she scolded her. When they shoved the bottles down the seat, they were caught in her rage again. In the next half hour of the journey, the girls somehow downed the first of their bottles. The second one was still intact. I could see the pain on their faces.  “I bought these for you to stay hydrated. I don’t like things being wasted.” She turned towards the gang and showed them her own juice bottles – empty and crushed. “Don’t whine like schoolgirls or else admit that you can’t hold it.”
     
    To the girls, Disha appeared under absolute control, but they couldn’t see what I saw from my experienced eyes. Her legs were glued tightly and curled up on the seat. And with she sneakily pulled the seat belt away from squishing her bulge. By the way, it was now significantly bigger and approaching her navel. When I looked down, to assess my own fullness, I could no longer see the buckle of my belt piercing my bulge. The seat belt formed a valley on my belly. My dick hurt and so did my buttock after so much clenching. I took the last sip from my bottle and coincidentally my eyes fell on the rear-view mirror. The girls were all looking at me with pleading eyes. A suicidal idea came to my mind.
     
    “You know what girls. Since this is your first holding competition, I will help you to prevent wastage.” I looked straight into Disha’s eyes. At first she couldn’t understand but then the girls started passing their fully sealed bottles to me. As I cracked them open Disha interrupted me. “This is cheating.”
    “Why? What’s wrong?” I calmly asked her as my bladder throbbed from within. I felt the cool of the juice travel down my chest and accumulating inside my pained bladder. It was a strange sensation, dull ache plus the sudden cool.
    “They are supposed to drink it, not you.” She was angry. “Besides, I don’t want to see you whip your thing out in the middle of the road.”
    “Disha, chill. I don’t take bathroom breaks during staycations. I will contain ALL OF IT.” I calmly replied, looking straight into her eyes. The girls looked at me with disbelief as the I finished all the four bottles, under an hour. I was never good at coping with sudden large volumes in short durations, but pride came first. Needless to say,
     
    Day 1 – The Beach-house:
    By 1pm, I was badly desperate. The final pathway from the highway to the beach-house was through a dense tree-covered road and a surface that could rival the craters on the moon. The girls whimpered in the back seat as the car rumbled. I held my breath throughout the patch, my forearms shook from the efforts. Disha’s composure was deteriorating rapidly. Her head hung low, and face etched with lines of strain. As the car shook more, I got a sneak of her tightly clenched under thighs all the way up to her butt cheeks, sweating profusely. She grabbed the arm rest and the door handle as if her life depended on her. She was clearly trying to hide her predicament from me.
     
    When we finally stopped at the destination - a retro beach villa right next to the beach – no one spoke a word. Silence fell in the cabin as I turned the engine down. “Have we reached?” Disha asked in a whispering voice. I nodded. My eyes were still shut as I fought the tsunamis inside. When the hostess approached us and knocked on the window, I almost lost a spurt. Disha gasped for air and her back arched involuntarily, leaving a sweaty print on the seat. She was practically shaking to stem a leak. The girls quickly unbuckled their seat belts, followed by long ‘Oooohs’ and ‘Aaaahs’. I and Disha followed suit.  Our bags were unloaded by the hostess and me, while Disha leaned on the front door and head thrown back. I could see her thighs tensed up. Getting out of the car to stand up severely upset her overfilled bladder. She squeezed her thighs tightly and her hips wiggled noticeably. She pursed her lips and breathed through her mouth slowly, as if to calm herself down. She kept trying to pull away her unforgiving skirt away from her bulge but in vain. With the other hand she was rubbing down on her abdomen. It must have been herculean to not push her hand down into her crotch and gain some relief. The girls were no better. They leaned on one another. They were doing a subtle yet pronounced pee dance and whispering among themselves with all sorts of animated expressions. For a moment I felt I was in an episode of the Kardashians.
     
    Once inside, the hostess welcomed us with glasses of Nimbu Sherbet (lemonades). I tried to tally all the water I had consumed so far, and once I realized I had exceeded the 4-litre mark, I stopped counting. Even for Disha, she was doing close to 3.5 litres already. But if I backed down now, Disha would think I am weak. So, I forced a smile and picked up a tall glass, furiously kegel-ing at the same time. She quickly did the same and started chugging it. “This is suicide.” I heard one of the girls say as they picked up the glasses. “If you want to ‘freshen up’, the bathroom is at the end of the corridor.” The hostess joyfully said as we finished the juices.
     
    Disha was already on the couch, her legs rapidly bobbing up and down. She pretended to be on her mobile, but I knew she was just stalling the inevitable. The girls expectedly looked at her. “Disha, we all are going now. We have proved that we can hold it like you.” Their sweaty midriff and the low denim shorts clearly highlighted the bulge they were sporting. It seemed the girls were holding a piss-load just as big as Disha, if not bigger.
    “That’s ok. I will think about it only when we reach our hostels.” Disha said with a strained voice.
    “What the fuck! That’s two days away Disha. Don’t be stupid. You can try another hold right after this.” They sensibly suggested.
    “Rules are rules - No peeing outside my own bathroom.” Disha snapped and hurriedly went inside to check the property. Her rigid posture and stiffened butt spoke volumes about her struggle.
     
     
    Once she was gone the girls pounced on me, “Rex this is getting difficult for us. We all have to go REALLY bad.” They looked at the bathroom door biting their puffy lips.
    “Mind if I check it?” I looked down at their tightly compressed bellies. Though they were hesitant they allowed me to squeeze. I began gently and gradually increased the pressure. Their legs twitched as I pushed and prodded them one by one. Each squeeze was accompanied with a gasp or a moan. I continued squeezing for a few more minutes until they begged me to stop.
    “So, what do you think, Master?” Came a question with a strained voice. The rest of the girls eagerly nodded with furrowed expressions, still reeling with the sudden increase of pressure at their pee holes.
    “You all are firm yet squishable vs this. . .” I pulled up my T-shirt to let them feel me.
    “Dude! Are you sure that’s your bladder?” They all tried to squeeze it with all the might. I felt my soul escaping my body due to the pain. I trembled to stand straight, and my face turned blue. “I feel I am trying to press on a bone. It just won’t go in.”
    “Enough now girls!” I gently pushed them away. “That’s a sign of being at limits. You all can go for much longer. When did you all go last though?”
    They hemmed and hawed for a few seconds and then their eyes widened. “OMG, we all haven’t gone since. . .”
     
    “Heyyy! Are you ok?” The girls were interrupted. We heard the hostess worriedly call out. We all rushed inside. “Is it hurting? Do you need to use the bathroom?” The hostess was sat next to Disha on a bed, rubbing her back. Disha’s nails were digging into her thighs as she rocked back and forth, head hung low. “No. No bathroom. I barely had a few fruit juices on my way here.” Disha squeaked.
    “The gas station ones? You should NEVER drink those. They put so much saccharin in it.” The hostess observed.
    “They contain saccharin?” Disha’s face turned pale and so did mine. It was the biggest enemy of my bladder and perhaps for her too. “FUCK FUCK FUCK! I won’t even survive one night like this.” I heard her curse herself. My mind-state was pretty much the same after realizing how was my desperation growing so rapidly in the last few hours.
     
    “Looks like the saccharin is getting better of her.” Came a hushed comment.
    “Remember how she wet herself after that fresher’s party. She tanked up too many canned juices.” They started giggling. Disha had wet herself. How did I not know it.
    “What are you laughing at . . .” Disha suddenly snapped.
    “No one’s stopping you to use the bathroom Disha! No need to be a cry-baby.”
    “Do you have any clue how much am I holding onto. Just because I had a moment of weakness you start questioning my abilities.” I had never seen Disha lash out so badly. “Maybe I know why. You all are wearing diapers and have peed in them already!”
    “Mark our words Rex. We are banning ourselves from peeing till she wets herself.” That comment didn’t go down well with the girls. The panic in their eyes suddenly turned into anger and then into determination.
     
    The hostess turned red faced at this awkward conversation and hurriedly left the room. A little later we were done with lunch – an awkwardly quiet one. After that the hostess showed us around the rest of the property. It was 3pm now. 21 hours for Disha and 30 hours for me. And I still didn’t know how long the girls had been holding it or how long could they hold for. On the other hand, my dick was throbbing non-stop, and it was taking a significant amount of concentration to stop the pee from reaching my pee hole. I steeled myself to walk straight with the girls in my arms while Disha walked behind us, forcing a straight posture and a poker face. As the house tour ended, she showed us the bedrooms, “The one on the ground floor has an attached bathroom and the one above doesn’t.” I announced that I will take the upstairs, quickly followed by Disha. That led to a hushed murmur between the girls as if we gave them the hottest gossip.
     
    “I am going to take a nap. . .” Disha announced trying to keep her voice level. Her hands hovered near her crotch and her legs seemed shaky. The waistband of her tiny skirt pierced into her bulge. The girls wasted no time to mock her, “We all know when you take a nap Disha”, “Grabby, grabby!” “Oh! It is coming out. It is coming out.”
     
    “Rex, if you stayed with us at the hostel you would see her true self. Behind all this drama of being super strong, she’s going ABSOLUTELY MAD.” One of them pointed out to me.
     
    “Don’t you dare!” Disha tried to intervene, but a sudden bladder spasm perhaps stopped her midway.
     
    “Really? Then let’s all go to the beach.” Another girl suggested. “And we all change here, in front of each other so that no one can grab themselves,” looking at Disha suspiciously. I had never felt my manhood grow so thick and so hard ever before. As the tight bras came off their breasts popped out with a bounce. Sweat glistened on their toned bodies. The girls squirmed as the shorts refused to unbutton. Eventually they helped each other out of their sweaty denim confines providing temporary relief to their aching organs. There were red imprints of the seams on their butts and hips. Once their underwear came off, one of them teased me, “Enjoying the view?” I nearly came at her words. The size of their bulge was significantly big, almost alike Disha’s. Their shiny sweaty legs crossing and uncrossing all the time as they battled to tie their bikini bottoms.
     
    “You girls are handling it way better than I imagined.” I complimented the bikini clad gang. Disha, remained seated quietly on the couch, glaring it at me. I felt a bit strange, but I didn’t think much of it. As I unbuttoned my jeans finally an involuntary moan escaped from my mouth. “That feels good!” I said to myself while marvelling at its true size.
     
    “I thought you are just as ‘STRONG’ as your girls there.” Disha taunted me, making air quotes with her hands. She opted to stay in her current attire. She sat on her heels, which was her method to stem the growing pressure.
     
    Day 1 – The Evening Stroll:
    Once at the beach, I couldn't keep my eyes off the girls. It was an absolutely delight to see them clench and unclench their butts. They clung to me every time a wave washed our feet. "How are we doing girls?" I teased them, doing my best to not sound strained. I could hear Disha closely following us.
     
    "Sunny beach with a full bladder – can’t get better." The girl to my left responded, albeit clawing my arms.
    “How are you so calm Rex. If I were even half as full, I would have flooded the beach already.” The questions kept coming.
    “I know you girls want me to hold even more. Just doing that.” I emphasized loudly to make sure Disha heard me.
    “Yes, I have never seen a stronger man.” I was gifted a peck on my cheek.
    “The question is – can she hold more?” The other one pointed out to Disha, who was barely managing. I could see her long cast shadow from the corner of my eyes. She was indeed arched forward, and fists closed tightly by her side.
    “I CAN!” She remained resolute. “In fact, I am thirsty, and I need something to drink.” Came a daring suggestion with a strained voice. The girls sheepishly looked at each other. Whenever they thought they had an advantage on Disha, she would pull a new move to shake them. Anyway, we all waddled to a nearby fruit vendor and ordered 6 tall mango juices. The vendor girl seemed confused,
    “Umm, ladies are you sure? Mango juice is not recommended if you are pregnant.”
    The girls burst into laughter, “We don’t know, you ask the father.” They all pointed to me. I blushed furiously and got them the drinks.
     
    The mango juice, initially a refreshing treat, hit me like a freight train. My body just tensed up immediately as the cool hit my ballooned bladder. The girls winced at the sips and fidgeted around. They realized that they fell into Disha’s trap. The first one was now shifting uncomfortably at her place. Every few seconds, her gaze would dart towards the distant line of palm trees, a nervous twitch playing at the corner of her mouth. The other one, had gone uncharacteristically quiet, only managing short, strained replies to any conversation. The third and the fourth one bless their soul, were trying to distract themselves by building a sandcastle. Their bikini bottoms were simply invisible underneath their bulges now. Even after 15 minutes only half of their glasses were gone. Only when the vendor asked whether the juice was not good they speeded up. They all clasped the cold glasses tightly and put to their thick lips. The first girl took a large gulp, only to grimace and hold her breath for an uncomfortably long time afterwards. The second, after downing half her glass in one go, let out a high-pitched squeal and started fanning herself frantically. The third one buried her hand between her legs, her usually cheerful face muffling a scream. The fourth, after a particularly large swig, slammed the glass down with a force that sent a spray of juice flying.
     
    My heart was pounding right from the first sip. The familiar burning sensation inside my bladder returned. My breathing came in short bursts. Inhale-sip-hold-exhale. Disha's sheer willpower too seemed to waver slowly. Her toes curled as she forced down the tall mango juice. "You OK babe or shall we get you a diaper?", one of attempted to get on Disha’s nerves.
     
    "Never been better." She lied through her teeth and subtly arched back. When the vendor asked if we wanted to have more, Disha quickly asked for a repeat throwing me a challenge. Typical mind-games from her. I didn’t want to be left behind and got myself another one too. Disha decided to chug it entirely at once, not wanting to undergo the slow torment. “See, I am done with the second already.” She smiled victoriously while I looked at my own overflowing glass with anxiety. Sweat dripped from my head with every gulp. It pierced my insides as if the ice deposited right at the tip of my pee hole. I was clenching-unclenching my muscles with all my concentration. 33 hours of pee was bubbling inside my organ. Disha somehow seemed to manage her 24-hour load with a forced composure despite her worries of Saccharin just a few hours back. Her hair clung to her face and the hem of her clothes stained with sweat. She maintained a facade of composure for the longest. But even she couldn't hide the way her lower lip kept trembling ever so slightly. There was a reason why I considered has the bladder queen among all.
     
    As I was shifting my weight from one foot to the other, with arms tightly folded the gang suddenly asked me to give them privacy for some 'Girl' talk. I obeyed and moved to a distance.
     
    "I just don't get it. We all know you are at your limits here. What's the harm in admitting that?" Another one chimed in, obviously frustrated with the rapidly rising pressure. They thought I couldn't hear them. "Why do you always behave differently when he is around?"
    "First of all, I don’t have any limits to hold my pee. Secondly, I don't behave differently in front of him." Disha answered, constantly huffing and puffing.
    "If he isn’t around, you openly hold it in front us. We have even held out the dust bin for you to pee in, when you tried to compete with Rex during extra classes but couldn't make it out of the building."
    "That happened only once, and I was holding for nearly 36 hours." Disha tried to fight back.
    "Correction! Once every few weeks!" The girl threw her arms in the air, only to quickly shove then between her legs.
    "See I don't do that. I can always behave like a proper girl." Disha straightened her back to prove her point.
    "Well let’s see if the proper girl can beat us today. If you can’t, you won’t get to ride – EVER!"
    “Speak for yourself bitches!” Disha steeled herself.
     
    Day 1 – The Hike:
    A few hundred photos with pained expressions later, we returned to the villa around 8pm. 26 hours since her last relief and 35 hours for me. Because of the darkness outside I couldn’t really see Disha’s current bulge properly. As she sat opposite to me for dinner, my eyes fell on her bulge. It was humongous – definitely resembling a 4-month pregnancy. Her body was covered in sweat. Her movements were slow and calculated which clearly showed the torture she was putting herself through. Though painful, she made sure to finish all the spicy Kolhapuri items served by the hostess. Hot breath hissed from her lips as she chugged tall glasses of water to negate the chilly on her tongue. After her third glass of water, she grunted aloud – the vein on her forehead was protruding as she held her breath. I bent down quickly and found that her sweaty legs were tightly crossed.
     
    “She is going to lose it.” My neighbouring girl whispered to me. “She always over-estimates her capacity. Had she consumed normally she would just squirm around, after holding for a day. But all the saccharin and the overload of drinks has destroyed her. Disha shoving her hand under is a sign that end is near.”  Her words were making sense. The last time at the trip she reached this state perhaps around hour 32 or so. I could see each line of Disha’s forehead clearly. She gave all her power to keep her sphincter locked up against this additional load. My girls were no better. Each one sported a similar bulge like Disha and I felt proud of it. Their moans were now constant and every now and then they stopped in their tracks to fight off the waves. Their bikini bottoms remained absolutely spotless yet.
     
    After the dinner we were about to start for our adventurous night-hike through the dense woods. The forest was well-known in the country for glowing plants/bioluminescence. The girls squeezed themselves back into their tiny denim shorts and tried everything in their power to button up their shorts, but the pressure was far too ridiculous to try that. The very fact that they attempted to do that despite that heavy load of pee was mind-boggling to me. I too shimmied myself into my cargos and Disha still chose to be half-naked in her ensemble.
     
    “Ahem, does anyone want to use the ahem, washrooms before we start?” The hostess asked nervously looked at us. She herself seemed a bit antsy but I didn’t think too much of it. “Nope, not us” The girls announced panting under their breath. Their tensed expressions and absolute unsteady legs told otherwise. Disha on the other hand simply nodded her head and went inside the house. We couldn’t believe our eyes. I made an excuse about forgetting something and quickly went after her. I saw Disha hurriedly enter the bathroom, not even checking if the door is properly locked.
     
    I sneakily stood outside fully expecting to hear a bombardment of pee in the WC instead I just heard rustling and shuffling noise. I peeked inside and saw a scene that got etched in my mind. Disha with her hand shoved inside her tight underwear. I could see her fingers rapidly squeezing and moving underneath the fabric. After a while she called someone on her phone. Thankfully she put it on loudspeaker and continued to squeeze herself.
     
    “WHAT THEF FUCK DISHU! I have been texting you all day and you only call me now.” I heard a girl from the other side.
    “AJ, there’s no time for that. I am DYING TO PEE and I am already standing in a bathroom! Like I have drops on my fingertips. I have been kegel-ing, breathing in rhythm, have lowered my skirt, took a painkiller. Nothing works.”
    “We peed together yesterday. You surely can’t be that desperate in just 26-27 hours. Did you fuck him already? It can really worsen it!”
    “NO NOOO! Not yet. But my rather his girls, have challenged me to beat them in a holding competition. If I win I will fuck his brains out. But I don’t know if I can do it, I stupidly drank like 3 bottles of saccharin juices and like a bucket of other drinks to show them who is the boss!”
    “Sucks to be you. But given your stupidity the only way you can save your dignity is by making it impossible to pee.”
    “Like we used to do at school. Fake it till you make it” Disha was shuddering.
    “Yep! Keep texting me. I will support you through the end. Remember that girls don’t pee!” AJ hung up the phone.
     
     
    I couldn’t believe what I just heard. Disha proceeded to flush the toilet, washed her hands. Her bladder screaming at her for an actual release but in vain. She quickly dabbed off her sweat, tightened the laces of her skirt squeezing in her bulge. I quickly came out of the villa. I decided to keep quiet about it and play along Disha to see where it goes.
     
    The girls eagerly asked me if she really went. I nodded in affirmative. Their faces turned pale to hear that. With the psychological barrier gone, their composures were thrown out of the window. Within seconds I saw the girls go frantic. The zips of their jeans came further down, and their backpacks dropped on the ground. As Disha stepped out of the villa she sported another big bottle of water in her hand. “I feel so light that I don’t have to think about it for the next two days.”, she teased the girls and patted her squeezed bladder. Then she took a mouthful of swig from her bottle and proceeded to join the hostess. Even she was rather stunned at her decision to relieve herself.
     
    Hardly an hour or two into the hike and battered by the steep uneven terrain the girls were losing their minds. With one hand holding the sticks and the other hand tightly grabbing the crotch the girls were on the verge of exploding. I heard the girls hush among themselves.
    “How could she pee j-just like that?”
    “She pl-played us girls. We are going to look like fools now.”
    “I might actually need a diaper in a while.”
     
    The girl in front of me was on the verge of a collapse. She could barely keep her legs apart for a few seconds. The one behind me kept squatting down. The other two shamelessly had their hand inside their tight underwear.  Whenever the hostess stopped on her way to explain our surroundings even she squirmed from one foot to the other. Disha however remained still. Her legs close together but casually. A slight smile pasted on her puffy lips. Other than her clenched jaws and sweat beads on her forehead nothing in her body language showed that she had 28 hours of pee corked up inside that bladder of hers. I was sure it took her every ounce of being to act that nonchalantly.
     
    “Disha, normally you stick to your rules.” I asked feigning a straight face. “I thought you wanted to beat the girls.”
    “Oh! I have beaten them already.” She winked at me. Her confidence scared me.
     
    She went one step ahead and got herself even more to drink. She was a true sadist, I realized that day. “You know what Rex. The kind of load I can carry could put the girls to shame. I don’t suppose you could do that either.” My dick was swollen, and every movement sent surges of pain across my body. Despite that my male ego simply refused to turn down any challenge thrown by her. I did my best to keep up with and fought with every ounce of strength. I knew her secret, and I wanted to beat her fair and square. I simply held my breath and soldiered on and on. If she was not looking at me I quickly squeezed my dick. At that stage, it just seemed fair.
     
    In the course of next few hours, I watched the girls losing the battle. There was a moment when I and Disha had to go back in our track to get the girls who had stopped midway, unable to say anything. “C’mon girls. I hope you can control yourselves else you can pee anywhere you like.” Disha ridiculed them. By the time it was dawn the girls were miserable. Their bladders bulging out obscenely. They were all vibrating with the to contain their pent-up pee. “It’s right at the hole. I can feel the heat.” Came a whisper into my ears. I tried to encourage them to hold on despite my own excruciating situation. The way their bodies were tensed, I could say that they had just a few hours before the outburst.
     
    Disha had an ear-to-ear smile seeing them crack. “You see, girls, if you were anything like a true lady, you wouldn’t be miserable or cut back on your drinking. I have downed another litre of water, but you haven’t had a sip since we stepped out. You can just admit it that you have to pee like I did earlier, and you can end the trauma.” This was a big lie. Disha had been keeping her legs close together when the others were preoccupied and was sweating profusely to maintain her aura of normalcy. When the girls refused to bend I saw the corner of her lips twitch.
     
    A little later my phone buzzed. It was a message from Disha. “AJ I am going crazy. I can’t act any longer. I don’t want to pee yet, but the girls are not ready to give up.” I was about to turn around, but she recalled the text immediately. Little did she know that the damage was done. When Disha asked the hostess if we could go back, I interjected and asked the hostess to show us the extended area of the forest too. It was a dangerous game, but I was purely functioning on adrenaline and lust to stay put. My jaws were clenched so tightly that I felt my teeth crushing. My balls ached and lower back hurt like hell - all tell-tale signs that I was at my limits. The girls were teary eyed, but they were far too engrossed in the battle to stop the detour.
     
    Disha’s eyes had panic, “Is it really necessary? I am kinda getting t-tired here.” Strain clearly evident in her voice. I could tell by her body language that her bladder was wreaking havoc on her determination and this sudden unexpected move caught her off-guard. All the water was now gurgling in her bladder inching closer to an outburst. No matter how tightly she laced her skirt the volume was protruding over her petite frame and the tightness only speeded up her bladder’s already delicate state. Her clothes were now covered in patches of sweat and just like the girls she was rapidly losing all her calmness.
     
    In the next few hours, Disha’s bladder was resembled an overfilled water-balloon compressed under rubber bands. The sheer weight of it made her topple quite a few times on the uneven terrain. Each time it happened she tightly gripped her bulge as if pulling it upwards to protect it from the gravity. By 6AM, she looked as if she was possessed. Her makeup was smudged all over her face, eyes bloodshot. Each vein on her forehead, her neck, her bulge seemed to throb as if trying to gush out her 36-hour piss load while she heroically resisted. Even in such a terrible condition she tried to maintain a steady conversation with all of us. As the clock ticked, her pauses became more frequent and longer – suggesting each spasm was nastier than the previous one. But as time went on, her fidgeting grew more pronounced, and she chose to become mono-syllabic. I saw her eyes turn vapid as she fought with herself to pay attention to the hostess. Whenever we halted her legs started bobbing. Her furrowed expressions and shuddering head were testimony to her epic fight with her bladder. “Girls don’t pee! Girls don’t pee” She kept muttering to herself. 
     
    When we finally started our descent, a groan of pain escaped her mouth, and her hands flew down to her inner thighs. Her legs pretzelled inwards for a few seconds as she vehemently battled an ungodly wave. It took her a couple of minutes to regain total control over herself. I genuinely thought that the impending doom has arrived, but she fought heroically to silence her 38 hours full bladder. There was not even a wet dot on her thong yet. But her erratic movement did catch the attention of the girls behind and they pounced on the opportunity.
     
    “Disha, do you need to pee already? We will more than happy to stop AGAIN for you.”
     
    I expected Disha to finally give up but no. She looked at me trying to gauge if I was going to piss myself. I was in a similar boat as hers, but I never let it come on my face. I could feel steam coming out of my ears at that moment. Seeing that I was not going to give up, she decided to remain corked up. Needless to say, her face was red with the concoction of anger, frustration, and pain.
     
    Day 2 – The beach inside the house:
    Finally, we returned from the hike around 9am. 39 hours for Disha and 48 hours for me. Not a word was spoken for the remainder of the track. All I could hear was the laboured breathing of the girls. Little did I know, what was in store for me. As soon as we stepped in the girls sprang upon the giant couch – all of them tightly grabbing themselves for dear life. The hostess darted to the bathroom and let out an absolute torrent. A gusher which echoed throughout the villa and went on forever. The girls winced in pain and couldn’t decide whether to grab their pussies or cover their ears. No one mentioned it out loud, but the hostess clearly needed to pee urgently and yet succeeded to keep up with all the girls. After a thunderous performance, our red-faced hostess dragged herself out of the bathroom all sweaty and exhausted. She was far too embarrassed to even say a word to us college kids struggling to contain ourselves. “You are not the only ones who was frantic, I guess.” She squeaked and hurriedly left us alone.
     
    Next up were the girls. They all hesitantly looked at me as if asking for my permission. Their shorts were already halfway at their knees. One of them opened her mouth but nothing came out. The others were simply too engrossed in fighting the onslaught of pee waves on their holes. Disha who was breathing laboriously, cast a final glance at them. “I won girls. You all are l-leaking!” She pointed to the little coin sized spots on their bikini bottoms.
     
    “What d-do you mean you beat us?” One asked feebly, each word weakening her control.
    “You chickened out last night and yet here-here we are still containing our loads SINCE THE LAST TWO DAYS!” The other one whisper yelled.
    I and Disha were both dumbfounded. “T-two days?” Disha gasped, knowing fully well that even after her little mind games the girls beat her fair and square by a solid margin of 9 hours. Heck, they were at par with me. “Yes! We held it all night even after you peed like a spoilt girl!” The last one yelled as a huge spurt gushed into her underwear.
     
    “NO! You didn’t beat me. You can never b-beat me. I faked my pee last night. I didn’t need to pee then, and I don’t need to p-pee NOW! It’s just 40 hours – easy -p-peasy. . .”  Tears rolled down Disha’s cheek as another wave hammered her from inside.
     
    “You c-cheat!” The girls yelled at her with contempt. One of them even suggested they continue to control. Their sphincters simply had no more strength and the sudden movement of bending down to pull up their shorts broke them. The inevitable finally happened. One by one thick huge streams exploded from their coochies. The coin sized patch turned into a fully drenched fabric. “FUCKING HELL!” came a scream as they all hobbled towards the bathroom. We could see steam coming out from their asses as they wiggled and waddled. Pee splattered all the way from the couch to the bathroom. Their grunts filled the house, and they landed their drenched butts on the bathtub and let go of a storm-like gusher. I didn’t realize when Disha moved closer to me and held my arms tightly for support. She was squatted on the ground and legs pretzelled. One minute turned into two and then three. The noise of pee hitting the porcelain turned into pee splattering into a pool. The stench of urine spread across the villa and yet there was no sign of stopping. Cuss words and moans continued to bombard Disha and me for another minute. By that time Disha nails had already pierced my forearm.
     
    “Aaaaaaahhhhh!” Disha shrieked. “PLEAASE MAKE IT STOP REX!” She wept with the tremendous efforts of holding the monstrosity of load. Once the girls stopped their torrent, primal needs took over Disha. She was violently shaking as her sweaty fingers wrestled with the complicated laces on her microskirt/tube top. “It’s coming out – it’s coming out. . .” She was fighting with tooth and nail to get rid of it, but the laces got entangled.  In a futile attempt she pulled whatever lace was there in her fingers. To her utter shock, it squeezed in like a vice, right on top of her bulge – the most sensitive zone. She screamed at the top of her lungs, her legs frantically bobbing up and down. 
     
    I quickly kneeled in front of her. For the first time, she accepted my help and tightly grabbed my shoulders. I could see despair in her eyes pleading for help. It was the first time we were so close together. Yes, I had seen her naked before but not like this. She hung her head low making her long dense hair bounce and play on my head. Her breezy vanilla fragrance mesmerized me. Her breasts heaved against my forehead. It was perfect. “Hurry up please.” She whispered to me as I tried to un-roll the contorted bundle of fabric. Her legs refused to stay still, and hips kept twisting and turning.
     
    “Disha. Be strong! Girls don’t pee, remember” I tried comforting her, genuinely worried. “Hmmmph. . . No I don’t. . Its tight. . .hurts.” Her incoherent sentences gave me the answer. As I further tugged it, the unthinkable happened. “Ooww!” She screamed and a small hot jet of pee spurted out of her pussy. A few drops rolled down her thighs and her thong had a significant wet patch now.
    “Disha, you are . . .”
    “Just shut up! It’s nothing. I WILL NOT PEE!”
    I felt her nails digging deeper into my shoulders with the efforts to push back the flood.  By the time I finally freed her from the confines, another spurt gushed out – this time on my arms. “I’m. . .  I’m so sorry, I don’t know why it’s happening. I can – s-still hold it.” I nodded and licked it from my arm, looking straight into her eyes. “It’s ok Disha, no one’s going to judge you and I will still let you fuck me.” 
     
    “Rex, I . . .Really want to. . .” Disha paused for a moment as a monstrous wave made her entire body shake. “PEE!” She squeaked and the inevitable happened. The. Floodgates. EXPLODED. And how! A thick white stream of pee fell with a splash on the floor, followed by a ferocious torrent. I quickly moved back but the force was powerful enough to drench me. The hotness consumed me then and there. Within a flash, my swollen shaft gave up. Pee came rushing to the tip of my dick and erupted even before I could grab it. Hot piss gurgled inside my tight briefs before drenching my jeans from front and back. In a few moments it turned from light blue to dark. Disha looked at me with a mix of amazement, pride and lust and all possible range of emotions. Her body stood motionless as all her willpower was pushing out her hot pent-up pee. Her mouth was gaped open, eyes rolled upwards and, her mascara spread around her eyes. She was in a deep pee-trance, so much that she couldn’t even breathe. I was no better. A burning sensation ravaged the insides of my bladder, my dick, and my balls. Sweat dripped from all possible crevices of my body. A sharp noise rang in my ears and light-headedness consumed me. I could feel each globule of pee trying to push my pee hole wider and wider. It was orgasmic and painful at the same time. Our combined hisses overpowered even the 4 girls inside like two powerful hoses let loose. The rug beneath our feet was fully submerged under the downpour and the puddle spread a good few yards from where we stood. The gang may have beaten Disha but the amount of pee we released could easily fill the tub or so it seemed.
     
    After 4 minutes of uninterrupted peeing, I and Disha collapsed into the puddle, splattering each other wet and passed out.
     
    Epilogue:
    When I opened my eyes, I found myself in the car in the back seat. Disha was laying in my lap, still asleep or passed out may be, draped in a towel. I was only in my underwear, a fresh one and I could already see the waistband digging into my bladder, screaming for a piss again.
     
    “Good morning sleepyhead. You two never woke up the entire night and we had to check out of the property.” The girls began with their chatter.
    “The hostess was mighty upset with the destruction you two caused but she was oddly she invited us again.”
    “And yes we also we got a call from the warden saying that they need one more day for cleaning up the hostels.”
    “Where are we going then?” I asked with a shaky voice, kneading my dick hard.
    “You will know soon,” the girl in the front seat naughtily smooched me, “Just know that we have a lot of ‘UNFINISHED BUSINESS’ to do once we reach.”
    A chill went down my spine because I knew where exactly they were taking me to.
     
    - - - The End - - -
  9. Upvote
    eucoloco reacted to Rexone_312 in Rexone Story Commissions   
    Carmen’s Control
    Spurts in Slumber:
    It was raining heavily in the early hours of the morning. Water and splash noises filled the ambience. Carmen tossed and turned in her bed. Her pillow wet and sticky with her sweat. She threw away the blanket and let the cool breeze from the window soothe her. But her peaceful slumber was already replaced by familiar pangs in her bladder. She turned around to find a comfortable position to sleep but her need to pee intensified as the night progressed, slowly eroding the blissful depths of her sleep.
    Around 4 in the morning, a jolt ripped through her body, waking her up. Her eyes wide with a mix of confusion and stinging pressure in her crotch. Her hands immediately flew down to her crotch. Her tight undies were definitely wet. Not outright accident but a golf ball sized patch. Her bladder tried to expel her pee with all its might. Had she failed to wake up, she would have a soggy bed. “Every fucking morning”, Carmen muttered to herself, annoyed with the leakage. She begrudgingly glanced at the clock, realizing she had only a few precious hours left before her alarm rang.
    With a stubborn determination, she squeezed her eyes shut, resolute on lulling herself back into slumber. However, the persistent throbbing in her lower abdomen refused to relent, tormenting her with its insistent presence. The battle between her need for sleep and her desperate urge to pee kept growing. She lowered the waistband of her much tight undies and shover her hand inside to grab her womanhood. It didn’t reduce her discomfort but helped her to get through the night. Finally, morning arrived, bringing a glimmer of hope. She shot up from her bed, her eyes bloodshot, and her hair in disarray. She slowly laid her legs down on her velvet rug, toes curled throughout. Out of her long-formed habit, she first chugged the glass of water kept next to her. Each drop filling up her bladder like the lake beneath a waterfall. “Breathe in . . . Breathe out!”, she tried to steady herself before getting up from the bed. Alas! All her prep was in vain. Gravity pulled the weight of her bladder like a magnet pulls iron.  She collapsed on her bed with a thud. “This is the worst I’ve needed to pee!”, Carmen barely realized she was rocking back and forth, allowing her muscles to get accustomed to the additional water.
    Carmen grabbed her mobile and put on the favourite 7AM radio to distract herself:
    “Welcome to your Zodiac Jockey! Next up is Libra – Hmmm . .” The bubbly RJ chattered in. “Your cards say that it is going to be a tough day for you. You will be yearning to do ‘something very important’ throughout the day but one way or the other you will not be able to do it.”
    Carmen giggled to herself, “Where do they get these cards from?”. Her bladder reminded her about its presence and once again, she stood up. On the way to the bathroom, her eyes fell on the mirror. She pursed her lips and checked her face while her legs, twisted and wobbled into a funny pee dance, as if they had a mind of their own. She had barely finished tying her hair, when her gates opened spurting a hot jet of piss, through her undies onto her legs. Had her bladder had a mouth it would yell at her, “Let me piss for god sake!” It simply wouldn’t have any more of her nonsense. Realizing the gravity of the situation, she darted to the bathroom downstairs, leaving a trail of pee drops behind her.
    The bathroom door slammed against the wall, as Carmen pushed it with brute force. The porcelain bowl was in front of her eyes, shining in all its glory. “Oh god! Oh god! Oh god!” She frantically approached the bowl, her body arched forward as if carrying the load of her bladder on her back. Her hand remained shoved in her undies as she landed her sweaty bum on the water closet. Whoosh! Erupted a loud thick force of piss through the fabric. Her body filled with goosebumps as the overnight pee finally escaped the confines of her overworked bladder. The fabric of her tight undies absorbed quite a lot of pee, passing on a strangely pleasurable sensation through her clit. As the level rose, the mix of water and pee, from the closet splashed against her butt making her shudder. Her moans of relief could be heard from miles away.
    Carmen was seeing starts in broad daylight. Barely 20 seconds passed since her floodgates opened, when suddenly, a shrill ring pierced the air. The doorbell! Her heart was in her mouth. She clasped her ears, trying to block the sound. She pulled in her stomach trying to pee faster, but she was already going on with full force. A few seconds later the bell started ringing non-stop. She took a deep breath and clenched her muscles tight, shutting off the flow. A strong back wave of desperation shook her body. As she stood up from the seat, her bladder furiously tried to expel the remaining liquid. As she hastily put on her robe, a few more spurts came out gushing. Summoning every ounce of self-control, Carmen mustered a strained smile and hastily wrapped herself in a robe, concealing her discomfort. She rushed to the front door, gritting her teeth, and praying for a swift interaction.
    Standing before Carmen was a courier, holding an envelope containing the long-awaited important document. Her bladder screamed in protest as she battled the urge to cross her legs. She attempted to maintain a composed facade, but her desperate need to pee tainted every strained word. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, her body swaying ever so slightly as she battled the growing pressure within her. She prayed for the courier’s swift departure, knowing that relief was just a few agonizing steps away.
    Finally, the moment arrived. The courier bid her farewell, and Carmen slammed the door shut, no longer caring about pleasantries. But the ordeal was far from over. Her mobile buzzed loudly. Her eyes widened with horror reading the name “Bella, the bitch”. “Fuck!” Carmen cussed and as she slid her finger slid over the green button. The next half an hour was spent pacing in the room, hopping, and twisting. Sometime sitting on the couch and sometimes leaning against the kitchen counter. She fought valiantly with the waves of pee crashing against her bladder. Seeing no respite, her bladder finally accepted that it was not getting any more relief. The pressure subsided and Carmen could focus on the call. She unclenched her muscles and wiped off the sweat from her forehead. Around an hour later, the call was about to get wrapped up just when Bella sternly said,
    “DO NOT FORGET to bring that sales forecast document, otherwise you lose the contract!”
    “Relax Bella! I’m just 40 not an amnesiac.” Carmen tried to make the situation lighter.
    “Then behave like one!” Bella hung up the call.
    Daunting Dress Up
    Carmen’s bladder had calmed down, after having released half of her load and then getting some music from Bella.  She had forgotten about the reminder of the pee still sloshing in her bladder. After a quick breakfast with a tall mug of coffee, she stood in front of her walk-in closet admiring her huge collection of luxury dresses and heels. Today she was determined to make a fashion statement at the office.
    “It’s time to teach those 25-year-old office bimbos a lesson in fashion!” Carmen mischievously grinned and chose a tight pant suit for the day. It was one of those sexier ones that hugged all her curves, a bit too tightly at times. She cast a glance at the mirror once again. Her belly was slightly bulging out over her undies. By no means was Carmen an unfit lady but today she was determined to unleash her inner diva. “Let’s go into the Kardashian mode today.” She immediately decided to pair her outfit with an extremely tight-fitting ribbed shapewear that promised to sculpt her figure into perfection.
    As she put her leg into the one-piece shapewear, a pesky sensation tugged at her bladder. Her bladder woke up again as-if taunting her. Carmen glanced at the bathroom door, considering a quick detour, but her fashion-forward ambitions took precedence. "Mind over Matter – Mind over Matter!" she convinced herself, determined not to let nature's call ruin her fashion game.
    With determination in her eyes, Carmen struggled to further shimmy into the shapewear. It clung to her body like a second skin, defying her efforts to wriggle it on. She hopped, twisted, and tugged, trying to find the perfect angle to squeeze herself into the fashionably constricting garment. As the shapewear finally found its place, Carmen caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The reflection revealed a silhouette that seemed airbrushed and flawless. Her boobs were pushed up, more than she bargained for, and a washboard flat belly. “Magazine perfect!” She couldn't help but strike a pose, admiring her hourglass figure and imagining the envious stares she would receive.
    But just as she basked in her newfound confidence, her bladder reminded her of its presence - again. The need to pee was pretty intense, transforming her triumphant moment into a comedic struggle. Carmen's eyes darted between the bathroom door and her stunning reflection, torn between comfort and vanity. "I can hold it in," she whispered to herself, squirming uncomfortably as she put on her pantsuit. She reassured herself that she was a grown-up who could endure a little discomfort for the sake of fashion. After all, fashion knew no bounds, not even the urge to relieve oneself.
    With renewed determination, Carmen straightened her posture, embracing her discomfort as a badge of honour. She sauntered out of the bedroom, high heels clicking on the floor, as she courageously chose fashion over the call of nature. Despite her struggles and the slowly increasing urgency within her, she remained steadfast in her pursuit of style, and embarked on her day, exuding confidence. Little did she know that her decision to ignore the pangs of her bladder was going to cost her dearly. 
    Troublesome Traffic:
    It was already 9.30am! Carmen rushed to leave home, hoping to reach the office in time, she encountered an unexpected nightmare—morning traffic. The cars seemed to conspire against her, forming an impenetrable wall of metal and exhaust fumes. She sat in her tightly fitted business formals and uncomfortable heels, gripping the steering wheel with despair. She honked horn, swore at the passersby, but nothing seemed to ease up the situation. The pressure inside her bladder was growing slowly, matching the frustration building up in her mind. "Of all the days for traffic to be this awful," she muttered under her breath,“Why does this seatbelt have to dig into my bladder!”
    As the minutes ticked by, Carmen's thoughts became increasingly absurd and frantic. She tried to recall what all she drank since she woke up as she glanced at the digital clock on the dashboard, “A glass of water and that coffee. Seems doable” She again convinced herself that her bladder was playing tricks on her mind. “I will go once I reach the office as always – you got this Carmen!” Though she couldn’t stop eyeing the surrounding cars, fantasizing about a mythical bathroom-on-wheels or a teleportation device that would whisk her away to the nearest restroom.
    In her mind, the traffic morphed into a game of wits and survival, with Carmen as the ultimate victor. She fantasized about manoeuvring her car with unparalleled skill, zigzagging through impossibly narrow gaps and leaving the gridlocked drivers gaping in awe. However, the reality was quite different as she inched forward at a snail's pace, her discomfort growing by the second. It was 10.15 already and she had not even shifted to the 2nd gear since.
    The honking of frustrated drivers around her only served to heighten her anxiety. She somehow felt, the others on the road were mocking her predicament with each blaring horn, startling her every now and then. She clenched her teeth, silently cursing her morning coffee and its diuretic properties. She even started contemplating various escape routes. She craned her neck out of the window, trying to find out what happened or may be find a secluded bush to sprint to. There was none. Disappointed with the learning, she took out her phone and hurriedly scrolled through the maze of icons. “The nearest convenience store is 2.8 miles away and will take around 40 minutes to reach” a voice came from her mobile. “Screw you map lady!” Carmen yelled at her phone stashing it in her handbag.
    Finally, the traffic finally started to ease up, Carmen could hardly believe her luck. She drove like a woman possessed, expertly manoeuvring through the remaining congested areas. Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, she triumphantly arrived at the office, her bladder considerably full now. She parked her car, silently thanking it for enduring her squirms and desperate crossing of legs throughout the torturous journey. Her mind was now locked-in to the target of reaching the precious ladies wash-room for the sweet, sweet relief.
    Office over Output:
    The sound of Carmen’s pointed heels could be heard throughout the floor. As soon as she stepped in, heads started popping up from the cubicles, especially the young men. Hushed comments and lewd remarks started coming in.
    “Hey! It’s Carmen?”, said one guy.
    “Yeah bro! I never actually noticed her properly before!” Said the other.
    “I have got a tent in my pant. What happened to her over night?” One more guy whispered.
    “Jeez she is generally so demure and today suddenly she is giving these girls run for their money!” Another one added.
    Carmen pretended not to hear those lewd but flattering comments, but it gave a substantial boost to her confidence.  Her pace increased as her eyes fell on the sign of the ladies room.
    “Carmen, I need you in the sales forecast meeting – NOW!”. Her boss appeared from thin air, or so she thought.
    “Boss, can you just give me 2 mins? I will quickly nip to the ladies and come.”
    “Is it urgent?” Her boss asked, arching her brows.
    Carmen was embarrassed at the comment and chose to follow her boss to the meeting room, which seemed like Antarctica. “Why is this chair so low?” She mumbled under her breath. “It’s broken”, one of her colleagues whispered to her and signalled her to pay attention to the presentation. Her knees were positioned higher than she liked, making her unable to cross her legs. The combination of this uncomfortable position, the full blast of the AC and the shapewear squeezing her bladder was a lethal combo for her. After every few minutes, she tried to tug and pull her shapewear way from her skin. But the silky shirt of hers made it impossible.  She looked down at her tightly fitted business formals and realized just how uncomfortable she was. Not only were her clothes constricting, but also her seemed to pinch her with every movement.
    As the meeting began, Carmen tried her best to focus on the discussion, but her concentration was wavering. She had to shake her head to bring her focus to the slides from her filling bladder. She squirmed in her chair, shifting from one side to another, hoping to alleviate the pressure building up inside her. The seats felt more like torture devices, conspiring against her in her most vulnerable moment. She discreetly glanced around, hoping no one would notice her discomfort, but it felt as though everyone in the room could hear her bladder's cries for relief. “Carmen, if the chair is uncomfortable you are welcome to stand. Your chair is squeaking too much!” Her boss glared at her. She sheepishly smiled and stopped moving. It was close to noon now; the pressure was significant. She hadn’t moved an inch ever since her boss called out and her muscles were burning.
    In her mind, Carmen started having hilarious and desperate thoughts. She wondered if she could discreetly escape to the bathroom without anyone noticing. Imagining herself tiptoeing out of the room, she envisioned the sound of her heels echoing in the silence, drawing everyone's attention. The more she tried to concentrate on the meeting, the more her mind fixated on her dire need to pee. She started to question the universe, silently pleading for some mercy. But it was not her day. Just when she thought the day couldn’t get worse, her boss's voice boomed across the boardroom. “Carmen, why don’t you take walk us through the sales analysis of your region?”
    "Why then? Why me? Did I inadvertently offend a restroom deity?" she thought to herself. Misery visible in her eyes.
    Of all the times for her boss to call her, it had to be now. Her bladder throbbed with urgency, and the mere thought of standing up sent waves of discomfort through her body. But she couldn't refuse her boss's request, so she reluctantly stood up, trying her best to maintain a composed expression despite the pressure mounting inside her. As she made her way to the podium, every step felt like a tiny earthquake rattling her insides. She clenched her thighs together, desperately trying to hold back the torrent that threatened to burst forth. Each passing moment only made her predicament more dire, and she couldn't help but envision a comical scene of herself exploding like a balloon.
    On one hand, Carmen needed to focus on the presentation and impress her boss. On the other hand, her bladder was demanding attention, threatening to hijack her concentration. The presentation began, and Carmen's boss handed her the clicker to advance the slides. Each click of the button felt like a countdown to disaster. She clenched her teeth, her face contorting in a mixture of concentration and agony. She tried to focus on the words coming out of her mouth, but all she could think about was the ticking time bomb within her. During her presentation a few of the people left and returned, possibly after taking a bathroom break. “Damn! I envy these people!” Her mind drifted, and she imagined how good it would feel to take a nice relieving pee. Would she make a mad dash for the nearest exit, leaving her colleagues bewildered and traumatized? Or would she give in to the inevitable and create a spectacle that would be talked about in the office for years to come?
    Carmen snapped back to reality as her boss asked her a question. Panic surged through her veins, both from the pressure in her bladder and the fear of embarrassing herself in front of everyone. She turned her back to the audience pretending to look intently at the graph. Her face was contorted with the strain. After a few seconds, she took a deep breath and turned to the audience. She stumbled over her words, but she didn’t give up. Slowly and steadily, she managed to formulate a coherent response while battling her body's urgent demands. Hearing it, her boss suddenly exclaimed, “That’s why she is the Country Sales head guys! Brilliant!” Everyone in the room clapped for her. Sound of each clap felt like slaps on her bladder. While externally Carmen was smiling and nodding, she silently cursed her boss for not offering her to sit yet. She rocked gently, seeking respite by transferring her weight from one foot to another, desperately hoping that a change in position would somehow alleviate the pressure.
    As the meeting continued, she clasped her legs together tightly, hoping to hold off the inevitable. In a futile attempt to distract herself, she even started mentally counting the ceiling tiles, trying to shift her focus away from her pressing urge. Her colleagues, oblivious to Carmen's internal struggle, carried on with the meeting, discussing important matters with utmost seriousness. “Damn! It’s 1pm already. I would have peed thrice by now.” Carmen’s thoughts became a jumble of desperation and amusement. 
    Around 1.30pm, the meeting finally came to an end, Carmen's victory seemed within reach. But just as she prepared to make her escape, her boss extended the meeting by discussing an additional topic. Her heart sank again, feeling like it might burst alongside her bladder. In her mind, “I am bursting for the past two and a half hours bitch! Let me goo!” She was screamed in her mind and comically debated whether she should interrupt the meeting. She contemplated the potential though that the sales head cannot even contain her tiny bladder.
    Maintenance:
    Half hour later, the meeting finally concluded, Carmen bolted from the conference room, leaving her bewildered colleagues in her wake. She dashed towards the restroom, relieved to have survived the ordeal. Her desperation was reaching dangerously high levels as she raced towards the restroom, only to be greeted by a sign that read, "Bathroom closed for maintenance. Sorry for the inconvenience!"
    She stared at the sign in disbelief, feeling her heart sink along with her bursting bladder. Thoughts of urgency raced through her mind, and she contemplated desperate measures like finding a potted plant or hiding in a supply closet. She shifted uncomfortably, feeling the tightness of her business formals squeezing her bladder even more. Her heels, seemingly mocking her, made each step agonizingly painful. She waddled around, trying to find someone who might know of an alternative restroom, but everyone she asked seemed oblivious to her predicament.
    The tension mounted as Carmen's need to pee turned into a dull ache. She clutched her lower abdomen, feeling like she was about to explode. Sweat beads formed on her forehead as she desperately searched for any solution, but none presented itself. In a last-ditch effort, Carmen spotted a janitor's cart nearby. Hope sparked in her eyes as she quickly approached it, but her hopes were dashed when she saw that it only contained cleaning supplies and not a spare bathroom key.
    Carmen frantically looked around the corridor, becoming more and more fidgety. Her attempts to conceal her discomfort becoming increasingly comical. She subtly squirmed, crossed her legs, and even tried to distract herself with work, but her mind remained fixated on the overwhelming need to relieve herself. In her desperation, Carmen contemplated absurd options, like using the employee kitchen sink or climbing out of a window for some much-needed relief. However, she knew deep down that these ideas were utterly impractical and would likely lead to even more embarrassing consequences.
    Finally, with a mix of frustration and resignation, Carmen accepted that there was nothing she could do in this situation. She took a deep breath, attempting to summon every ounce of willpower. The only good thing about the situation being her hot lunch served on her desk, which he devoured along with some sparkling water. “Don’t want to die out of her thirst”, she thought to herself and chugged at least half the bottle.
    Client office Chronicles:
    Reminder: Meeting with Bella at 3.30pm. A gasp escaped Carmen's lips as she stared at her mobile screen, her face contorting into an expression of shock. “Looks like I am an amnesiac after all!” She said to herself and dashed towards her car. Fortunately, there was no traffic on the road and arrived at Bella’s office, right at 3.15pm, feeling a heightened sense of urgency in her bladder. The discomfort amplified as she realized that wearing her tightest business formals and a pair of high heels was a mistake. Each step was like a mini-torture.
    As she walked into the office, Carmen could feel everyone’s eyes on her, wondering why she was walking a bit awkwardly. She tried her best to maintain her composure, but her face started turning shades of crimson as she clutched onto the reception desk for support, hoping no one would notice her desperate need to find a restroom. Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse, she suddenly remembered that she had left the courier document back at her home. Her heart beating faster, and body filled with goosebumps. It was a critical choice for her,
    “Bathroom or file? What if Bella sees me without the file? What if I can’t hold it longer?” She was torn into two. Ultimately her responsibilities took over her call of nature. She sighed internally, mentally cursing her forgetfulness and the cruel twists of fate.
    As she lowered herself get into the car, her lady muscles quivered. “Not now!” She inhaled sharply and calculated the time it would take to drive back home, grab the file, and rush back to the client's office for her meeting. With a sigh of resignation, Carmen accepted the fact that there would be no time for bathroom breaks. The liquid she had consumed earlier in the day seemed to catch up with her at the most inconvenient moment. Her bladder felt heavy as if someone had kept a fishbowl inside her belly. Each movement of the pedals only added to her discomfort.
    "Okay, Carmen, just hold it together," she muttered to herself, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "You can make it home and back without any accidents. Just focus!" But as she approached her neighbourhood, the pressure in her bladder intensified. Somehow her bladder had spatial awareness and tuned up the desperation further. Her mind was now consumed by thoughts of toilets and relief. Her attempts to clench her muscles and hold back the flood were tiring her out. She squirmed in her seat, shifting her weight from side to side, desperately seeking any semblance of comfort.
    "Please, traffic lights, turn green!" Carmen pleaded, her voice tinged with a sheer desperation and frustration. She knew that any delay would only make her predicament worse, and time seemed to taunt her as the seconds ticked by. Finally, she arrived at her house. With the engine still running, Carmen dashed towards the front door, fumbling with her keys in a frenzy. She tried to unlock the door with trembling hands, but her fingers seemed to have a mind of their own.
    "Just a few more seconds," she muttered, her voice strained with urgency. "I can do this!"
    But just as Carmen managed to unlock the door, a cruel twist of fate struck. Her neighbour’s cat, notorious for its mischievous behaviour, darted out from nowhere, brushing against her legs. Startled, Carmen let out a yelp. "No, not now!" she cried. In a haste, she lifted the cat and rushed to the neighbour to return her. She lost a good couple of minutes, adding to her delay. Any hopes of a quick bathroom break was down the drain now. She could feel her bladder protesting with every passing second.
    With a mix of frustration and disbelief, Carmen grabbed the file in a split-second and rushed back to her car. Despite knowing that the meeting would be pretty long, and Bella kept her on toes, she had no choice but to drive straight to the client's office, bladder be damned. The thought of relieving herself at the client's restroom seemed simultaneously embarrassing. As she drove, Carmen's discomfort reached unimaginable levels. She squirmed in her seat, desperately trying to find a position that would provide even a momentary respite. Every traffic light seemed to conspire against her, forcing her to stop and wait, her bladder screaming in protest.
    "I can't believe this is happening!" Carmen exclaimed, half in exasperation. “Looks like the RJ was right!”
    Carmen imagined herself as a character in a slapstick comedy, desperately trying to reach the bathroom but encountering one comical obstacle after another. She chuckled at the ridiculousness of her situation, despite the discomfort that threatened to overwhelm her. Finally, Carmen arrived at the client's office, parking her car with a sense of both relief and trepidation. She stumbled out of the car, her steps unsteady and urgent, as if she were in a race against time. She rushed into the building longingly looking at the door of the ladies room. She bit her lips imagining the sweet relief so close and yet so far. Bella stood right in front of the ladies room, with her arms folded and feet tapping. Carmen profusely apologized but in vain.
    “If I tell Bella, I need to pee, she is surely going to fire me!”
    Once inside the meeting room, Bella’s hospitality was in full swing despite her anger. Carmen had a mixed feeling towards it. Every few minutes, they offered her a steaming cup of tea, insisting that it was their specialty and a crucial part of their business culture. Carmen forced herself to accept the tea, not wanting to offend Bella further, but with each sip, her desperation to use the bathroom grew stronger. She tried to listen attentively and contribute to the discussion, but her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of rushing to the bathroom. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, trying to find a position that would ease the pressure building up inside her.
    Meanwhile, Bella continued to engage her in conversation, blissfully unaware of Carmen’s internal struggle. They were impressed by her ability to multitask and manage her discomfort, unaware that it wasn’t her remarkable skills but rather her dire need to find a restroom. She suppressed her discomfort, her face growing redder by the minute. She shifted in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs, hoping for a miracle or a sudden interruption that would grant her a much-needed break. But luck seemed to be enjoying the cruel dance of irony that day.
    The meeting finally concluded at 6pm, and Carmen bid Bella farewell with a strained smile, hoping her awkward shuffle towards the door didn’t raise any suspicions. She rushed out, leaving behind her longing for relief and a trail of suppressed sighs. Through it all, Carmen’s determination to please the client and maintain professionalism prevailed. She had managed to secure the file, but at the cost of enduring an extended period of holding in her urge to pee, even though her bladder felt like a ticking time bomb. The ordeal was far from over but she bravely soldiered on, navigating the treacherous waters of business formals, high heels, forgotten files, and a cup of tea too many, in her quest for sweet bathroom relief.
    Return to office:
    Carmen sped to the office like no tomorrow. As she entered her workspace, her colleagues surprised her with a jubilant farewell celebration for a coworker. The office was buzzing with excitement, filled with laughter and cheerful conversations. Carmen forced a smile, joining in the festivities, all the while battling her internal crisis.
    She discreetly shuffled from one conversation to another, crossing her legs in a feeble attempt to contain the mounting pressure. Her mind was torn between socializing and the overwhelming need to find relief. She hoped for a lull in the festivities, a brief moment to escape to the bathroom, but the timing was never right. Her friends at the office noticed Carmen’s subtle discomfort but attributed it to her busy schedule and perhaps an intense work deadline. They couldn’t fathom the true nature of her predicament. Carmen, on the other hand, silently cursed the universe for putting her through this torturous ordeal.
    As time passed, the celebration continued with cake, drinks, and endless toasts. Carmen forced herself to participate, albeit with a forced gaiety that masked her internal agony. She maintained a constant mental countdown, calculating the minutes until she could finally seek the sanctuary of a restroom. Colleagues approached her with stories and inside jokes, unaware of the battle raging within her bladder. Carmen mustered all her strength to engage in conversations, her face contorting with effort to conceal her urgency.
    To make matters worse, a colleague insisted that the group played musical chairs. The crowd went into an uproar. Before she knew she was pushed into the circle by her colleagues. A chill went down her spine. Six inch high heels, an outfit. with vice like grip, and a threatening-to-explode bladder. The music began and people started hobbling around the chairs, pushing and pulling each other. In this commotion she took quite a few blows on her bladder. Each blow made her muscle tremble. Her piss was just a hair thread way away from gushing out. Her face was redder than a tomato and mind in overdrive. “Should I fake a sudden stomach ache? Or pretend to receive an urgent phone call?” Her heart was in her mouth but at the same time, she knew that any excuse would only draw attention - the last thing she wanted was to be the center of everyone’s concern.
    Just then an idea struck her mind. Carmen tottered towards a chair as soon as the music stopped and let it go just at the last moment. The crowd was having a blast, and no one cared that she was out of the game. She saw a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos and sneaked out of the hall determined to find the nearest bathroom without delay. But just as she was about to make her escape, a colleague stopped her, insisting on a group photo to commemorate the occasion. Carmen’s heart sank, and she felt the last shred of hope slip through her fingers. With a strained smile, she obliged, knowing that her freedom was being delayed yet again.
    With the photo session finally over, Carmen made a beeline for the ladies room, but it was still under maintenance. Not wasting another second, she hobbled towards the elevator, heels clicking against the floor, fighting against her body’s protestations. Each step was a test of her willpower, as she fought to maintain her dignity amidst the overwhelming urge to sprint. In the elevator, surrounded by the silent anticipation of reaching the ground floor, her discomfort reached its zenith. She closed her eyes, trying to distract herself from the turmoil within. The elevator seemed to move at a glacial pace, mocking her desperation.
    As the elevator doors opened on the ground floor, Carmen took a deep breath and stepped out, believing that her salvation was within reach. In her mind, she wanted to run faster than Usain Bolt. But fate had one final twist in store for her. The parking bathroom was just a few steps away. She could hear the angels sing. Just 10 feet away from the door, a colleague intercepted her, excitedly sharing an anecdote that simply couldn’t wait. Carmen’s expression wavered between politeness and the anguish of her predicament. She strained to pay attention to the story, her mind screaming for release. Each passing moment felt like a cruel joke, as she nodded along while her bladder threatened to revolt against her. Her legs couldn’t keep still. “Please-please-please! Don’t pee, don’t pee, don’t pee!” She was pleading to her bladder. Finally, the story ended, and she seized the opportunity without a moment’s hesitation. But alas! The janitor had already locked the toilet while her colleague intruded her so-close-relief. She squatted on the ground, pulling her hair in despair. Her bladder throbbed with the anticipation of relief. It somehow couldn’t apprehend that a well-deserved break could be snatched so easily. It sent another strong wave towards her pee hold as if it was saying, “FIND ME ANOTHER ONE – NOW YOU PEASANT!”.
    Dinner with friends:
    Carmen allowed herself to stay still for a couple of minutes before approaching the car. The clock on her dashboard showed - 7PM. “Holy fuck! I can’t believe it’s been 12 hours without a break. I am seriously going to burst!” Her eyes were welled with tears. For the hundredth time of the day, she cursed herself for her choice of clothes. Each step she had taken throughout the day kept hitting her bladder like a boxer hits his rival. 
    Just as she took the car out of the parking, her phone had buzzed. It was a call from one of her old friends, inviting her for an impromptu dinner. “Karla, that restaurant is 10 miles from my office. My home’s about 5 only. Can I just come after some time? I need to attend to something” Carmen tried her best to avoid the invitation. “Nope! Its final you are coming!” Her friend said and hung up the call.  Her blood was boiling. She started slamming the steering wheel, causing the loud noise from her horn to reverberate throughout the empty parking lot. “WHY CAN’T I JUST REACH A FUCKING TOILET!”
    Carmen breathed through her mouth, eyes darting from one side of the parking to the other. Once she was sure there was no one around he hands immediately reached down the button of her tight pants. Without giving any second thought, she frantically unbuttoned her it. Within a split second, the zipper got pushed down automatically. She sighed in momentary relief as her bladder got some room to expand.
    With some newfound strength, she forced herself to drive through the peak city traffic. Her toes curled, each time she had to operate the pedals. Her calves felt as if someone was slitting them with knives. Torture was an understatement. After an hour of slogging, she finally reached the venue. It was upmarket, bustling restaurant which had a strict dress-code. For Carmen it meant buttoning up her tight pants again. “GOSH! I look pregnant!” She cried, struggling to pull the zipper up. A sharp pain ripped through her belly as she forcefully buttoned up her pants by sucking her belly inside. And yet, the evening had just begun.
    With one sharp breath, she stepped out of the car. Her back ached with the pressure pounding the insides of her bladder. The passersby looked at her with concern as she strutted towards the door with baby steps, with t was nothing. The second she stepped in the air conditioning hit her like a freight train, sending shivers down her spine and making her bladder ache even more. She fought back the urge to cross her legs and maintained an awkward smile as she approached the table, greeting and hugging them one by one. The strain on her bladder was inexplicable. Her body shuddered and it was her signal to make the move.
    “I reallllly need to tinkle, girls! I will be right back.” Carmen quickly excused herself and headed towards the bathroom. “She must be bursting, I mean, just look at the way her butt is clenched.” One of her friends commented. On the other hand, when Carmen reached the bathroom, a staff member approached her with an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, ma'am," the member said, "someone had an unfortunate accident in there, and it's closed for cleaning at the moment."
    “Is there any other bathroom that I can use, please?” Carmen tried to steady her voice. Her lips trembled with every word pouring out of her mouth. 
    “I’m sorry Ma’am! This is the only one.” Came the response. It took superhuman determination to keep her hands from jamming into her crotch. She mustered all her strength to just accept the devastating news and returned to the table. Her friends saw the anxiety in her eyes when she returned to the table.
    "My goodness, Carmen," one of her friends said, concerned. "You look like you're about to burst!"
    Carmen wasn’t able to hold back any longer. "I pee like 10 times a day and I haven’t gone in 13 hours today!" She confessed, the words tumbling out with a mix of desperation and embarrassment. Her friends sympathized with her, their own bladders also feeling the strain. “Looks like there is no other option than enduring it!” Carmen said, her words ending in strain. “Girls always have to hold it, I guess!” The girls giggled and began with their 7-course meal. Usually upmarket restaurants liked to show off their delicacies and same was the case here. Every time a new dish was brought to the table, the waiter started to explain its ingredients, speciality, and history. Carmen was furiously tapping her feet. Her patience was running low and by the 4th dish, she lost her cool, “Can you please make this faster? Or may be not interrupt our dinner?”
    “Madam, our sincere apologies, but it is our duty to enchant our guests with the gastronomic delights, they are feasting on!”
    “You know what – NO TIP FOR YOU!” Carmen glared at him. The next few rounds were much quieter and faster. The girls thanked her as they slowly savoured the food. Bite after bite, sip after sip, Carmen’s body swayed and shifted. There was a point when sat on her heels, rocking. “Desperate times call for desperate measures!” She sheepishly chimed as the rest of the girls nodded. The conversation around become a blur as her thoughts were solely consumed by the relentless pressure in her lower abdomen.
    Finally, around 10pm, the dinner came to an end. Carmen bid her friends farewell one by one. The vein in her head threatened to pop as she hugged the last girl. With wobbly legs, she had headed towards her car, her need to pee reaching unprecedented levels. Holding her breath, she hopped into the car preparing to endure the journey back home with a bladder on the brink of explosion. 
    Car breakdown:
    But there was more to come. Carmen's day seemed like a never-ending roller coaster of unfortunate events. As if she hadn’t suffered enough, her car suddenly stalled and came to a grinding halt. Clouds of smoke started coming from her hood. She shrieked in frustration, swearing some of the unholiest words. To top it off, it started to drizzle. She glanced at her watch. It read 10.30pm. “God please help me out!” Carmen burst into tears, jamming her hands into her crotch. Murphy’s Law went all guns blazing on her. Whatever could go wrong was going wrong with her.
    She reached for her phone and dialled the roadside assistance number, hoping for a quick resolution. “What do you mean it would take an hour? I can’t wait that long on this secluded road!” Carmen nearly deafened the person on the other side. Haplessly, she got back into the car, praying to her stars to help her out. Minutes felt like hours, as Carmen tried to maintain a composed exterior while internally battling the mounting tension. She started counting the raindrops on her windshield to distract herself, but it only reminded her of her the ball of pee looming to burst. She called the road assistance number again and to her utter dismay, the ETA kept getting pushed back due to one reason or the other.
    Carmen's desperation was reaching its peak, and she started contemplating the unthinkable: peeing behind a nearby bush. She had even spotted a squirrel looking at her curiously, as if sensing her predicament. But Carmen dismissed the idea as she looked down at her clothes, “Why Carmen why? Why did you put this shapewear today? It doesn’t have a fucking pee hole! I can’t take it off on a roadside! You’re just so dumb!”. She frantically looked around for any sign of a public restroom but found none. The splattering noise of the rain was driving her nuts. She folded her leg on the seat and sat on her heels, gently rubbing herself to keep the pressure at bay. Lines of stress were etched across her face. If there were any Olympic event called "Urgent Bladder Battle.", she would have secured a gold medal, she thought to herself.
    When the tow truck arrived, it was around midnight. Carmen had breathed a sigh of relief, thinking she had been one step closer to salvation. But the tow truck driver was sluggish and insisted on engaging in a lively conversation about his favourite reality TV show, unaware of Carmen's dire situation. She desperately tried to maintain focus on the driver's words while simultaneously scanning her surroundings for any sign of a restroom. Carmen’s years of practice as a sales lead came handy when it came to mental juggling act, of balancing a conversation with her bodily needs, and her dwindling patience.
    Finally, the tow truck driver completed his monologue and proceeded to fix the car. As he opened the hood, Carmen hopped inside the car and shoved her hand in her crotch. Her legs were fanning vigorously, and face scrunched up with the efforts. All she could hear were the noises of metallic clanking and drills whirring. She bit her lips in anticipation. She imagined a glorious situation when the tow truck driver would come and tell her, “You’re all set Madam!”
    Instead, the man came and dropped a bomb on all her hopes. “Looks like the engine is seized. Will take a day or two to fix it. I will drop you to the nearest bus-stop.”
    Bus travel:
    Despite a million insistence the tow truck driver refused to drop her at home, directly. “Against the company rules” or so he said. Thus Carmen, at her absolute limits, pushed through the throngs of people to catch the last bus home. Half drenched in sweat and half in rainwater, squeezed between commuters, she could barely move, let alone find a comfortable position to ease her discomfort. The bus jerked and swayed with every turn, made the boulder of her bladder slosh. With every passing stop more people filled up the space squeezing Carmen tightly against the pole at the center. Her restricted movements intensified her desperation, and she tried to channel all her energy to her muscles down there, almost yelping in pain.
    She stood there, surrounded by people engrossed in their own world, silently praying that the bus ride would end quickly. Carmen's mind raced with thoughts of potential solutions, “Should I ask that guy to give up his seat?”, “Should I get down at the next stop?” Or “Maybe I could pretend to faint and hope that these bastards give me their seat!” Every time the bus halted, she contemplated jumping off and finding a nearby bush for some semblance of relief. But the fear of public embarrassment and potential legal consequences held her back. Instead, she clung to the pole in the center of the bus, her face contorted with the effort of holding it all in.
    The bus continued to move, seemingly oblivious to Carmen's internal struggle. She tried to distract herself by focusing on random details—the ads plastered on the bus walls, the sound of music leaking from someone's earphones—but the urgency of her situation kept creeping back into her thoughts. Occasionally, the bus hit a pothole or swerved sharply, causing Carmen to jolt, teetering precariously in her heels. She clung to the pole for dear life, silently cursing her choice of skyscraper heels and wishing she had chosen something more sensible.
    As the journey dragged on, Carmen found herself resorting to all sorts of mind tricks to distract herself from her bursting bladder. She counted the stops, repeated the multiplication tables in her head, and even tried to imagine herself on a beautiful sandy beach with crashing waves. She especially regretted the last one as her pee hole was hit with a massive vengeful wave from her overworked bladder.
    Finally, the bus reached Carmen's stop. The doors opened, and a rush of people pushed her towards the exit. She desperately tried to manoeuvre through the crowd to get down first. But her maddening pressure prevented her from moving fast. Luckily for her, she managed to get down just as the bus doors closed. Now all she had to do walk the last few blocks and the relief would be hers.
    Rainfall:
    Carmen’s happiness was short lived - the sky opened up again, drenching her in a torrential downpour. She cursed her luck as the rainwater instantly seeped through her tight business formals, clinging to her like a soggy second skin. The uncomfortable sensation made her feel miserable.
    Carmen frantically dug through her bag, searching for a spare umbrella that she never thought she would need. Instead, she discovered an old, forgotten candy wrapper and a pen that had leaked ink onto everything it touched. Her frustration grew as she realized her bag had become a disorganized jumble of useless items.
    Her high-heeled shoes now felt like torture devices, making each step a treacherous balancing act on the rain-slicked pavement. She squirmed and wobbled, trying to maintain her dignity while simultaneously battling her increasingly insistent bladder. The possibility of letting go was beyond tempting.
    She glanced around, searching for any form of shelter from the relentless rain. Desperate, she spotted a small awning near a café. Carmen quickened her pace, navigated through puddles, and dodged other pedestrians, her legs crossing and uncrossing in a desperate attempt to hold back the impending flood.
    Just as she reached the haven of the café's awning, a gust of wind swept through, causing the awning to shake and raindrops to find their way under the meager shelter. Carmen jumped to the side, avoiding the cascading water, but her momentary relief was short-lived.
    An unsuspecting pedestrian passing by accidentally splashed a wave of water from a nearby puddle, drenching Carmen once again. She let out a frustrated groan, feeling the pressure inside her rise with every sodden step.
    In a last-ditch effort, Carmen spotted a nearby park. Hope surged within her as she spotted the serenity of a public restroom. However, just as she arrived at the park's entrance, she noticed a sign reading, "Park closed due to maintenance." Her heart sank, and she contemplated the absurdity of her situation.
    Carmen trudged onward, rain still pouring mercilessly, her clothes clinging even tighter to her body. She was going through rapid breathing cycles – Inhale, hold, exhale. Her thoughts became increasingly delirious as she imagined the raindrops mocking her plight, forming tiny little caricatures of toilets, and laughter echoed in her mind. There were quite a few residential buildings in the block. “I can’t do this any more, I must ask for help!” She thought and started inching towards one of the blocks. Hardly a few feet away from the gate, a Rottweiler charged towards her. Scared for her life, Carmen sprinted in the opposite direction, her bladder being thrown into a frenzy of movements.
    With her spirits dampened (both literally and figuratively), Carmen continued her waterlogged journey home. “Walking on egg shells is easier than this”, she thought while balancing between containing the flood and the slippery ground.
    Key Conundrum:
    When Carmen approached the final turn towards her house, her need to relieve herself reached its peak. She decided to take the keys out in advance, to save precious seconds. She fumbled through her bag in a panic, desperately searching for her house keys. Her bladder behaved like an animal trying to free itself out of a cage.
    With trembling hands, she pulled out a keyring and was about to insert the key into the lock when, in a moment of sheer misfortune, it slipped from her grasp and plummeted into the open sewer drain by the roadside. Carmen's eyes widened in disbelief, “NOOOOOOOOO!”, She screamed.
    Her mind raced with frantic thoughts as she contemplated her options, all while doing her a frantic pee dance. She was now faced with the excruciating reality that she couldn't enter her own home until a locksmith arrived. When she took her phone out to dial a lock smith, it ran out of battery. “Damn you!” Carmen slammed the phone on the pavement. In a blink of an eye the screen shattered into a million pieces.
    Not wanting to expose herself to the pouring rain any longer, Carmen quickly sought refuge in her neighbour’s house. She rushed over, knocking on the door with a mix of desperation and embarrassment. Her legs tightly glued to each other, white knuckled fists on the side of her body and her lady muscles burning. It felt like she was not holding pee but molten lava inside her. The neighbour, a kind-hearted soul, opened the door and invited her in, oblivious to the frantic bathroom situation unfolding. Upon her request the neighbour called in for a locksmith.
    Neighbours Nicety:
    As Carmen stepped inside the neighbour's house, her eyes locked onto the bathroom door like a magnet drawn to its metallic allure. The door taunted her, its mere presence exacerbating her already torturous predicament. She fought the urge to sprint towards it, reminding herself that propriety and societal norms demanded she maintained a facade of composure.
    "Oh, the sweet relief that lay just beyond that door," Carmen thought, her mind consumed by the thought of finally releasing the torrent that threatened to burst forth from her bladder. But asking for the bathroom then, after already imposing on her neighbour’s hospitality, seemed like an impossible feat. How could she casually admit that she had been holding on for dear life?
    Carmen attempted to act nonchalant, the neighbour kindly offered her a cup of tea, unknowingly adding fuel to Carmen's internal struggle. She accepted with a gracious smile, all the while battling the primal urge to snatch the cup and chug it down like a parched traveller in a desert oasis. Each sip of the hot tea, once a comforting pleasure, now felt like a cruel joke. Every drop cascaded down her throat, further fuelling the ocean of liquid within her, causing her to squirm in her seat, desperately trying to maintain an illusion of normalcy.
    Carmen's mind became a battleground of conflicting desires. On one side, her manners and social graces, desperately trying to hold her composure. On the other, her unruly bodily functions, demanding urgent attention with an intensity that could no longer be ignored.
    She clutched the tea cup, her fingers trembling, her knuckles turning white. The neighbour carried on with casual conversation, oblivious to the epic struggle playing out within Carmen's body. It took every ounce of her willpower to keep her gaze from drifting back to the bathroom door, which seemed to mock her with each passing moment.
    Thoughts raced through Carmen's mind as she contemplated the absurdity of the situation. How did a simple act of nature turn into a Herculean trial? She internally debated the pros and cons of embarrassing herself versus maintaining a facade of poise. In the end, her dignity prevailed, and she stifled the urge to request a visit to the bathroom.
    As time inched forward, Carmen's discomfort became palpable. Her movements became more fidgety, her attempts at casual conversation punctuated by awkward pauses. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, as if her body was attempting to create its own rainstorm. To add to her horror, she noticed the neighbour’s mischievous kid engrossed in a comedy TV program. To her dismay, the main female lead in the show was also enduring a hilarious struggle, desperately needing to pee. The scene played out on the television screen, with the actress contorting her face in agony and ultimately succumbing to an unscripted accident, wetting herself to the uproarious laughter of the studio audience.
    The sight sent Carmen into a frenzy of mixed emotions. On one hand, she sympathized with the character's plight, knowing all too well the unbearable torment of a full bladder. On the other hand, the comedic timing couldn't be worse, as it only served to remind her of her own precarious situation. She was on the last reserves of her strength and it was a ‘Do or die’ moment.
    “Do you mind if I use your B-bathroom? I kinda need to d-dry myself...” Carmen slowly crossed her legs, proud of herself for coming up with such an excuse
    “Oh I understand. Wait I will get you a towel to dry yourself”, the neighbour misunderstood her request.
    “No, I mean, I really need to...” Before she child complete her request, the neighbour handed over the towel to her. Carmen blew up her only chance to relieve herself. If only she could swallow her pride and admit her eye wateringly intense need to release the lake inside her. Her thoughts were consumed by the pressing matter at hand, her bladder reaching a level of fullness that defied the laws of physics. She clenched her butt muscles, her core, held her breath and curled her toes – everything that she could do somehow just contain her pee. It was like the last few minutes of a dam which had been cracking. 
    And then, the sound of a van pulling up outside announced the arrival of the locksmith—an hour later than expected. Her hopes of finding sweet release shot up again, and she found herself trapped in the maddening limbo between urgency and the risk of wetting herself if she tried to even part her legs. Her face contorted in a grotesque battle of warring expressions—a delicate dance of pain and desperation, disguised by a smile and polite conversation. Carmen's heart skipped a beat, her eyes flickering towards the door, but she quickly composed herself, determined not to appear rude or impolite. She profusely thanked the neighbour for her help and waddled towards her house. Drops of pee at her lips of her vagina. Her silhouette more like a pregnant lady. Her movement like someone in an earthquake.
    Her hope for salvation rested with the locksmith, a savior sent to free her from her bathroom-induced torment. She prayed silently, sending out a telepathic message urging the locksmith to work with the speed of a thousand cheetahs, for every second spent unlocking the door felt like an eons. The click-clacks of his tools were music to her ears, building an epic cinematic climax. Every time he kept one tool Carmen’s eyes would light up thinking that he is done, but then he will. Immediately pick another one. He worked diligently to open the door with Carmen's nearly climbing the wall in desperation. She fidgeted uncontrollably standing behind him. Every twitch of his finger reverberated through her body, heightening her anticipation while simultaneously torturing her with a prolonged wait.
    She stole glances at the bathroom door from the window, her longing intensifying with each passing moment. But the social constraints and her own pride prevented her from confessing her dire need to the locksmith or anyone else in the vicinity. She battled with her inner demons, mentally urging the locksmith to pick up the pace and grant her the sweet relief she so desperately craved.
    Finally, as if sensing her near-breaking point, the locksmith triumphantly completed his task, turning the lock and granting Carmen access to her long-awaited sanctuary.
    “OH YOU FUCKING GENIOUS OF A MAN! I COULD KISS YOU RIGHT NOW!” Carmen screamed with happiness, almost squatting down with her doubly crossed legs. The locksmith quizzically looked at her. She realized that she blurted out too much and tried to stand up quickly, teetering on the precipice of liberation. Every fibre in her body was screaming for release, yet she forced herself to remain composed, resisting the urge to rush towards the bathroom.
    With a mix of relief, frustration, and a hint of comic irony, Carmen politely thanked the locksmith, cleared his payment, mustering every ounce of strength to maintain her composure. She walked with measured steps, fighting against her body's demands, and closed the bathroom door behind her. Those were her final steps just like an injured protagonist inching towards his victory.
    Outburst:
    The clock chimed 2am. 19 hours and countless drinks later, Carmen finally reached her bathroom. The tantalizing relief was just within her grasp, yet her tightly-clinging business suit and eye-wateringly tight shapewear clung to her body like a stubborn second skin, refusing to yield to her desperate pleas for freedom. The pressure inside her had reached an unprecedented level. She could no longer stand on her own. All her energy was culminated to one and only one point in her body – her throbbing, burning pee hole. “H-how can it become so – so BIG!” Carmen shakily looked down at her bladder.
    With trembling hands, Carmen began the arduous task of removing her constricting attire, one agonizing piece at a time. She tugged and pulled, her face contorted. The clothes seemed to taunt her, clinging tenaciously as if they were designed by a mischievous fashion sadist. Her fingers slipped and slid, struggling against the unforgiving fabric that refused to yield. The buttons of her shirt, even though strained due to the tightness refused to budge. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, a testament to the physical and mental exertion she endured in her battle against her own wardrobe. Her breaths came in short gasps, each one a desperate plea for release. The struggle became a battle of wills as Carmen's determination to free herself clashed with the garments' stubborn resistance. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead as she fought against the unyielding fabric, her face a canvas of both determination and anguish.
    Time seemed to stretch infinitely as Carmen fought against her stubborn garments. She doubled over, clutching at her abdomen, her legs crossed tightly in a futile attempt to maintain control. She danced in place, her movements an awkward combination of desperation and discomfort, as if performing a private, agonizing ballet. Her toes curled and uncurled in rhythm with her internal struggle, a silent symphony of torment. She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting back tears of frustration and physical strain. The pressure within her reached an unbearable level, pushing her to the brink of collapse.
    15 minutes passed and Carmen could only manage to get rid of her sweaty shirt. The tight pant still remained resolute. A fine layer of sweat made it stick to her skin. On the other hand, her bladder was bombarding her urethra like torpedoes. “Enough is enough!” Carmen screamed and cut away her trousers with a scissors and broke free of its demonic grip. Her tight shapewear, which now contained a lake of sweat in itself met the same fate as the trouser. Carmen managed to free herself from the clutches of her unforgiving attire. She stood before the mirror, breathless and dishevelled, her body shivering with an intensity of a seizure. As Carmen pulled away the torn layer of the shapewear away from her body, sweat accumulated inside it came splattering down on the floor.
    And that was the final nail in the coffin. That triggered millions of neurons in her brain to misfire and take it as a signal to release the flood. In a moment that felt both tragic and strangely therapeutic, her body surrendered to the unstoppable force within. She trembled uncontrollably, her legs no longer able to bear the weight of the pressure. She crossed them tightly, desperately trying to hold on, but it was a losing battle. She jammed her hands in her crotch and clasped them as tightly as she could. Nothing worked – nothing could stop the outburst any longer. Liters of pee tightly confined in her tiny bladder came out vengefully through the fabric of her undies, the gap between her fingers, gurgling down her milky thighs, now reddened with strain. The warm sensation of pee was comforting and arousing both at the same time. It was like a forbidden pleasure. The pressure of the torrent was so much that it passed vibrations though her clit, making her moan.  Her face was awash with a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming relief. Carmen finally succumbed to the inevitable and simply collapsed on the floor, her tired sphincter muscles, releasing the floodgates of pent-up tension. Her body, no longer able to contain the sheer force of nature, gave in to the merciless call of relief. The sound of her strong hiss filled the bathroom. A three feet wide puddle formed around her, emanating steam.
    It was a moment of both humiliation and liberation, a testament of her unshakeable willpower which made her fight with her bladder’s incessant demands, before yielding to the basic needs of the human body. A tear fell from her eyes and her lips trembled. There was a lump in her throat as she lay in her own puddle, defeated.
    “Next time, I won’t let my bladder win”, she whispered to herself.
    - - - The End - - -
     
  10. Upvote
    eucoloco reacted to Pisaj in The Bulge Diary   
    I’m just scrolling through this thread and wondering: How? How do y’all hold that much? The idea of holding any more than 600ml seems ridiculous to me, and here y’all are pulling over 2000! Wild!
  11. Upvote
    eucoloco got a reaction from dutchholding23 in The Bulge Diary   
    So hot
  12. Upvote
    eucoloco reacted to pimparific1 in The Bulge Diary   
    does anyone know what happened to centurybladder?
  13. Upvote
    eucoloco reacted to huberp76 in The love island!   
    Thank you, i am glad that you like it!
  14. Upvote
    eucoloco got a reaction from huberp76 in The love island!   
    And that's awesome. Dreamly really
  15. love
    eucoloco reacted to huberp76 in The love island!   
    The poor boy was a little bit bewildered and was still standing bended over and had his nude legs tight crossed.
    “Sorry that i have been so rude before and thank you very much that you made your bladder so full and that you leave it so very full for our date, but i don’t like to watch you piss, i want to see you hold. 
    I know that is not fair, but it makes me so horny to see you so very desperate and therefore i don’t let you use my toilet. You should stay both very full and should get even fuller.” said Peter.
    ”You know that we are not allowed to beg for a pee, even not if it gets very, very urgently and painful. We have to hold it no matter how bad it will get. We are not even allowed to talk about our needs, but your girl told me that you gave us permission to talk about our bodies and about our bodies needs.” said the boy.
    ”Oh yes, i love to talk with you about your urge to pee and about your bodily needs. But before you should strip your clothes and you should come in our bed.” answered Peter.
    The boy did what he was got told, he was now absolutely nude and naked. His body was gorgeous, slim, smooth and good shaped.
    Between his hipbones was his bladder clearly visible. It was bulging out from his pubic bone up near to his navel.
    ”Look how big my bladder became and there is still a lot of my last large drink on the way.” said the boy and massaged his swollen belly.
    ”You are really very full down there.” said Peter and slid with his hand over his belly to feel the body’s big firm bladder.
    Peter was lying between one of the most beautiful girls and of one of the cutest boys he had ever seen. For a bi sexual guy like Peter, was that the most erotic and the most arousing situation what he could imagine.
    That both of that young beautiful people had their bladders very, very full and stretched to double size or bigger and that both of them were needing to wee so unbelievably urgently and bad, was more than a dream for a bladder sadist like Peter.
    They could not get desperate enough for Peter and their bladders could never get full enough.
    Alternate he had his hands on the girl’s and on the boy’s body. He had his fingers around the boy’s penis and then deep in the girl’s tight cunt.
    Meanwhile he had the girls panties stripped to see her slit between her sexy thighs and to push easier his fingers inside her.
    They were now all three totally naked in the large bed.
    Peter pressed softly with his hand on their bladders until they moaned and groaned from needing to pee so bad. Peter’s sadism for their overfilled bladders had no limits, but especially the boy was near to the limit of his endurance. He wanted to pee so much, he was needing to pee since hours and did know very well that he would not get a chance for some hours more.
    He was not just handsome and cute, he was very intelligent as well. He wanted to animate Peter to have sex with them, either with him or with the girl, or with both.
    He thought that he would let them go to the toilet right after his climax and he told his intention to the girl.
    They started to be very tender to him. The boy leaked Peter’s body and kissed him with his soft tongue. The girl sucked his big bone hard penis and then they did it reverse. The boy sucked and the girl leaked and kissed.
    Peter was near to cum and therefore he was begging for a little break before he would eject.
    ” You both are so great, so sexy i feel like i would be in heaven, but we have to stop for some minutes, because i don’t want to cum, i want to stay horny all over the night.” said Peter.
    The boy was afraid to hear that and said “ does that mean that you will not let us pee until tomorrow?” 
    “Yes, i think so, i think that you will have to hold it until minimum tomorrow morning.” answered Peter.
    ”Did you ever think about how long a girl can last without a wee, how long a girl will be able to suppress her urge? Your girl is good trained, but she has not been at a toilet since yesterday morning, she didn’t wee since 38 hours!! What do you think how much longer she will be able to bear up?”said the boy.
    ”Many, many times i thought about that, but i don’t know it. Would you tell it me? Would she show me how long a girl can go without a wee!” asked Peter.
    The boys bladder was already full to explode from the rest of the large drink at the dinner, he was needing to pee worse than he could ever remember.
    He didn’t stop to hope to get permission to pee before sleeping, therefore they started again to animate Peter for sex.
    Peter was horny as hell and he wanted to stay horny until he would have sex with both of them, hours later.
    ”I would love to watch you both fucking.” said Peter. “Fuck her as hard as you can!” said Peter to the boy.
    ”We can’t fuck anymore with our bladders that full.” answered the boy.
    ”Sure you can.” replied Peter
     
     
  16. love
    eucoloco reacted to huberp76 in The love island!   
    Peter had not closed the bathroom door, he had not pissed as well all day long, therefore he pissed hard and long.
    To hear that made the urge for the girl nearly unbearable.
    She was still standing with crossed legs when Peter came out. “Would my poor girl need to wee as well?” he asked and smiled.
    ”Oh yeah, very urgently.” answered the girl. Peter didn’t offer her to go and the girl didn’t beg for it.
    They were on the way to the restaurant. The girl was walking so good as possible natural and did try to hide her unnatural need to wee.
    She was walking with small steps, with her thighs close together and with light rubbing knees.
    ”Oh my gosh, you can’t even imagine how sexy you are when you walk like that and when you need to wee so bad.” said the guy.
    ”I am glad you like it and i am glad that i am able to enjoy you!” answered the girl and kissed him on his cheek.
    “That you are turning me on so much with your pee desperation will be not so really good for you, because your visibility need and your moves from needing to wee makes me so horny that i want more of it and that i want to make you hold your wee much longer. I will not get enough from you and from your full bladder.“ said Peter.
    “My body is yours, you let him pee or you make him hold. You decide when i am allowed to answer nature’s calls, so are our rules.
    Moreover i like it that you like my body and my full bladder. It makes me happy to enjoy you and to make you horny.“ said the pretty girl. Then she stopped, crossed her legs and kissed him with her soft, wet tongue.
    Hörer took her firm ass with both hands and pulled her slim body tight against his body.
    He pressed his hard penis hard and tight against the bulging bladder of the girl. She was shaking on all her body, she crossed her sexy legs as tight as she could and moaned „oooohhhhh my poor bladder, you torture me so much, i am needing to wee so badly that i nearly can’t stand it.“
    She whispered that very calmly, with a soft voice. It was a mix of reality and a way to turn Peter on.
    Peter was turned on very much and already very horny, on the other hand he was a little bit afraid about that everybody could see his servants big bulging bladder. It was obvious for everyone that he didn’t let her wee and that he did torture her.
    What would happen if someone call him sadist, or if someone rail against him because he obviously torture that poor girl so much. Everybody knows that banned to pee can be a very painful torture.
    But at the restaurant he did calm down very quickly, because he could see there many girls and boys with swollen bellies and bulging bladders.
    “Unbelievable that so many people loves it to make others hold their urine.” thought Peter to himself. He was like in heaven to see so many full bladders, so many crossed legs, so many rubbing knees and so many desperate girls and boys.
    Just some tables away was the cute boy from afternoon. He was sitting with a guy and another boy and had again a large drink in his hand.
    The other boy was cute and sexy as well, he must have been the “private boy” of the guy.
    After they had finished their dinner, went Peter with his girl to their room.
    Peter stripped all his clothes and then he stripped the girl except to her little panties.
    He laid her on the large bed and laid beside her. Her bladder was so good visible in her sexy belly. He put his upper thigh on her lower abdomen, with his knee exactly on her bulging bladder.
    He pressed softly on her so very, very full bladder and he was rubbing his hard penis on the girl’s naked upper thigh. He had to be careful not to cum to early.
    Exactly at 8 pm knocked the boy on the door.
    As soon as he was inside, he was bending over and crossed his slender sexy boy legs and said “ Sorry, but i need to pee so bad. They made me drink all day long, first the older lady, then that guy. I am busting since hours, but i promised you to bring you my bladder very full, therefore i have not been at the toilet, i have been holding it for you until now, but may i use your bathroom now please?”
    ”No! Absolutely no!!” answered Peter.
     
     
  17. Upvote
    eucoloco got a reaction from huberp76 in The love island!   
    I'm loving it as usual
    Looking forward for more
  18. Upvote
    eucoloco reacted to huberp76 in The love island!   
    It was so much exciting for Peter to see so many extremely pretty girls and boys at once.
    They worked as waiter, as waitress, as bratender, as animator and then there were service girls and boys which were free for all guests for their pleasure and for their special wishes. Above all there were the personal servants.
    All of them have great, gorgeous bodies and are dressed so sexy that some guys had troubles to hide their boners.
    The guests were mostly single. Male and female mixed, but some more males.
    Peter went with his girl to the beach to explore more of the island .He could see that some of the girls and boys, especially the servants, had swollen bellies.
    Peter did know why, he did know the reason, he knew that the servants were holding a very full bladder in their bellies and that they were not allowed to go to the toilet.
    It was so arousing for Peter to see the contours of the overfilled bladders bulging out of the girls and boys lower abdomen.
    „  Since how long are they made to hold ?  How bad and how urgently are they needing to go? Is it already painful for them?“ thought Peter to himself and couldn’t get enough to watch their swollen sexy bellies and he did like to imagine how bad they are needing to wee.
    The girl had noticed where Peter’s eyes were looking and she did know for some time that desperate girls and boys was turning him on very much.
    After a while they stopped at one of the beach bars. Peter ordered a large cocktail for himself and did let the girl choose her own drink. No wonder that she did choose a  small drink, because her bladder was already so full and her urge was more than just strong.
    The boy from earlier was sitting some chairs away on the bar with an older lady and a large drink in his hand, he cheered to Peter and smiled.
    “You like him?“ asked Peter’s servant.“Oh yeah, i like him. He is a handsome boy with a cute face and a great body.“ answered Peter.
    In the meantime served a pretty young waitress with a tiny bikini their drinks.
    Peter‘s girl was sitting with her wonderful legs tight crossed and with one hand on her nude belly.
    She closed her eyes, pressed with her hand slightly on her bladder, massaged it softly and moaned silently.
    “Is it that bad, do you need to wee so much urgently?“ asked Peter.  „Oh yes, it is very, very bad and it would be extremely urgently for me to wee.”answered the girl. „But i said that just because you asked me, i should not talk about it and it should not be a reason for you to let me go to the toilet. I am not allowed to beg you for that, you know our rules.”she said.
    Peter stated again to think about that situation and about the rules. “ She is not allowed to beg for a wee, but what will she do if i don’t invite her to go to the toilet. Girls HAVE to pee sometimes and boys have to do that as well!!
    How long will she be able to hold it back and what will she do if i don’t let her go? Will she wee in her bikini panties, or will she wet my bed during the night , or will there be a point where she can’t no more other than to beg me for a wee?” asked Peter himself.
    On the way back to their sunlounger looked Peter at the people around him.It was so exciting and arousing for him to see which of the girls or boys were needing to wee and that it was for everyone visible. The bigger the bladder and the more it was bulging out, the worse must have been their urge to wee.
    It was interesting as well to see the different types of the sadistic guests who made their servants hold their urine, who didn’t give them permission to go to the toilet, because they like to torture their bladders and they did like to see them desperate.
    Peter’s girl was suffering as well about her stretched and overfilled bladder what was visible bulging out of her slim, usually fiat belly, but no wee for her. Peter always dreamed about bulging bladder’s and desperate girls and boys, now was his dream coming true.
    They were lying again close together on the sun lounger. Peter could feel the girls body on his body, he caressed her and she kissed him tenderly.
    Sometimes he had his hand on her lower abdomen, he wanted to feel the roundness and the firmness of full bladder. He enjoyed that and thought “ how much hot girl wee was that poor thing holding inside there?”
    He pushed one or two fingers inside her tight slit between her wonderful thighs, he pressed on finger on her pee hole and thought “ how urgently wants her wee comes out of that little hole!!??”
    He could not resist to press on and off softly on her bladder to make her tense all  her muscles to keep it in and to hear her moaning  from needing to wee so bad.
    Late afternoon they went to their room to get dressed for dinner. They went early because the boy wanted to visit them already at 8.
    Peter went to the bathroom for to pee before leaving , the girl was waiting outside with tight crossed legs. To hear him pee was extra torture for the girl who had not weed since the morning of the day before.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
  19. love
    eucoloco reacted to Rexone_312 in Rexone Story Commissions   
    Well, I found it: You can read it here on my old blog: https://life-without-toilets.blogspot.com/2015/07/the-couple-who-must-hold-it-part-1.html
     
    It's a multipart story. I hope you enjoy it. I will be waiting to hear from you ;-)
    You're damn right! ;-)
  20. love
    eucoloco reacted to kndasoin in The Bulge Diary   
    Oh my the bulges here are so impressive I’m starting to get jealous!
  21. Upvote
    eucoloco reacted to KerriDID in The love island!   
    I have read them, yes, all of your stories even back on EP
    "The business man and the call boy" is my favorite for sure
    "You have to pee now and you will have to pee two hours from now" is my favorite line
  22. love
    eucoloco reacted to huberp76 in The love island!   
    Hi, thank you very much for your compliment, i feel very honored about it.
    I am glad about it that you like my stories and i‘ll try to satisfy your expectations in future as well.
    I wrote already some stories where i made boys hold it for extreme long periods of time and where i made them extreme desperate.
    Did you read „No pee stop for a hitchhiker boy“ or „The business man and the call boy“?
    But you are right, we should make the cute boy on the love island extreme desperate.
    He will be not allowed to ask for a toilet, he has to hold it no matter how bad it will get for him.
  23. mischievous
    eucoloco got a reaction from Rexone_312 in Rexone Story Commissions   
    I hope Darius can beat Yoline, otherwise his macho pride would be hurt, and he would lose authority over her bladder. There's only one way to find out 💙
  24. Upvote
    eucoloco reacted to Rexone_312 in Rexone Story Commissions   
    I had written one story earlier on my blog on similar premise. Let me find it for you ;-)
    Yes, it was a nice twist to the story. There's something so sexy when a girl wants to push herself and hold longer and longer 
    I was waiting when someone would point that out. What do you think about Darius's capacity? Could he beat Yoline?
  25. love
    eucoloco got a reaction from Rexone_312 in Rexone Story Commissions   
    I love the story. And I love the ending, so Darius is a new inspiration for me rn
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