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Rika

Dry Member
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About Rika

  • Rank
    Dry

Personal Information

  • My pronouns are..
    she/her

My Kinks

  • I'm into..
    Bathroom Control
    Hyper wetting
    Watersports
    Cuddling
    Ear play
    Face-sitting
    Furry
    Master / Pet
    Parent and child play
    Pee drinking
    Tail pulling

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  1. You guys wanted more, so here's my second story! It's more than twice as long as the first one, more explicit, and more extreme >:3 This one has a lot of content, some of which might not appeal to certain people, which is totally fine! Just know that this story contains heavy themes of pee drinking, golden showers, and hyper wetting. As always, the story is written in second-person perspective, which allows for gender ambiguity. However, depending on the reader's gender in this story, they either get a brief fingering or blowjob. Just some touching, 's all. Here is a reference of Cathy, the skunk girl in this story, drawn, designed, and created by me! CONTAINS: Skunk girl (No spraying or farting for those who dislike that stuff), hyper wetting, pee drinking, golden showers, nudity, pee baths, watersports play (playing with pee), and... pee smelling? --------------------------------------------- You look up from your watch as it reads 7:57 PM. In front of you, on a secluded village road surrounded by wooden homes and cabins, is her shop. You take a quick look at the sign: Candles and Clovers Aromatherapy and Fragrance Store. It’s handmade, drawn onto a ridged wooden surface, yet it is brand new, swaying in the gentle breeze. Absentmindedly, you wait for the minute hand on your watch to tick forwards, tapping your foot idly. You wonder just how long it took her to make that sign herself. For someone who never had any real artistic talent, it was certainly better than anything you could do. Had she picked up another trade after you saw her last? You take the time to look at the perfectly organized rows of small candles and potted plants in miniature jars the size of your hand on the windowsill in front of you. To any other passerby, this store would be just another small shop run by any old villager, but you and you alone recognized the little hints of the owner’s style permeating through everything, from the way the front was decorated with little bushes in a miniature garden, to the way she had strung lilies on artificial vines snaking down the corners of the building. There was no doubt that you had come to the right place. You enter the moment the watch reads 8:00. You don’t waste a single second. “Hello, welcome to Candles and Clovers!” the girl behind the counter says as you enter. As you turn around, she gets a full view of your face, and realization dawns on her. Her polite and cordial smile slowly turns into a teasing, sensual one. “Oh, it’s you. Coming in exactly at 8:00 pm, not even wasting a single minute. I told you that I closed at 8:00, not to come at 8:00,” she says, every word coming out from smirking lips. “Are you really that excited to see me? You just couldn’t contain yourself? Classic.” “Don’t act like it’s not the same for you, Cathy,” you retort as she comes out from behind the counter. Cathy is a skunk girl. Her hair is long, wavy, and black, with white stripes running down the middle and the sides. A pair of cute black skunk ears poke out from the top of her head. Her pale, almost pallid skin shines in the light of the rows of candles lining each window. You notice that her eyelashes and substantially longer, and her complexion is much clearer than when you saw her last. Her clothing style is completely black and white, almost reminiscent of a French maid’s uniform, but not quite. She wears a smooth black crop top with long sleeves, and underneath is a thin white semi-translucent undershirt that hugs her belly so tightly to the point where you can see the outline of her belly button. She wears a short black miniskirt with a frilly white hem. Out from underneath it comes a thick and fluffy skunk tail with a pure white stripe down the center. Usually, she would hold it down, tucking it neatly between her legs, but as she approaches, you notice that it’s sticking straight up, lifting her short skirt along with it and revealing everything underneath. “I know that you’re busy setting up your own shop, but come on. A whole week? I can’t keep waiting that long,” Cathy says, coming up to you and pressing her hands gently into your chest, leaning forwards. “A week isn’t that long,” you protest, but before you can utter another word, she grabs your hands and brings you back behind the counter, past the door that reads “staff only”, and into the back of the store. “I’m really proud of how I organized everything, you know,” Cathy says as she guides you past rows and rows of small jars and vials stocked neatly on shelves. It’s almost like a mini library. “I’m so glad I finally got to become an aromatherapist. And you’ve been here for all of that. Remember when I used to experiment with scents on you? Back in high school?” she laughs. “Or maybe you wouldn’t like to. It was kind of embarrassing how bad some of them smelled sometimes. But since you’ve been such a good guinea pig, you get to see everything now. I spent days setting this all up, and I’ll give you a little tour. Afterwards, you can take any scent you want for free. Least I could do in return for you being such a good friend all these years.” “And? What about what we usually do?” you ask. Cathy turns around and quickly lifts up her skirt, giving you just the shortest glimpse of a bulging bladder. “I’ve been holding for twenty-six hours and counting,” she says with obvious pride. “And I’m not entirely sure I can make it through the tour. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see, huh?” Cathy shows you through the inner labyrinth of her new store, pausing to explain what each room is and does. As the tour drags on, you check your watch. 9:00 PM. You can see sweat forming on Cathy’s forehead, and her voice becomes strained. You notice a barely-perceptible shaking, accompanying with gradually flushing cheeks. Yet you make no comments, simply opting to silently enjoy watching her squirm as she purposefully and methodically explains her favorite scents and their components. She’s just about to move on to the next shelf when she winces suddenly, and then rapidly changes course, walking back briskly in the other direction. Amused, you follow her through a hallway and out the back door. She brings you out into a greenhouse of sorts between the butt ends of houses and alleyways. Outside of the building, there are ten rows of flowers of variegated hues stretching several yards down the lawn. “T-this is where I grow all my herbs and flowers for my e-essential oils,” she stammers. She tries to hide it by turning her back to you, but you can tell that she’s grabbing her crotch. Looking around, you notice something rather odd. Despite there being lots of flowers to water, there isn’t any surrounding fixtures. No wells, not water buckets, no hoses… nothing. But before you can question her, you see her stand over the first row of flowers at the end of the greenhouse and reach underneath her skirt. With one hand, she beckons for you to come closer, and with her other hand, she pulls down her panties, which are black and a little scanter than usual. As you come closer, she hands them to you, which you take hesitantly. The first thing you notice about them is that they’re extremely damp, and the second thing that you notice is that they’re exceedingly warm. “You can keep that; I won’t be needing it for a while,” Cathy says quickly as she positions herself on top of the flower, spreading her legs and straddling the flower bed. She leans forwards slightly and continues to gesticulate, her gestures becoming more and more hasty. “Come stand behind me and hold my tail up! Quickly!” Enjoying the sight of her shaking thighs, you casually stroll behind her, refusing to heed her urgent call. You spy a few droplets leaking down the insides of her thighs, and come to a stop directly behind her. Instead grabbing her tail, you simply fold your arms. “You’re perfectly capable of raising your tail by yourself,” you say with a smirk. Cathy shifts her weight from one leg to the other, barely able to keep her composure. “Just do it! Don’t make me wait any longer,” Cathy protests. “Fine, fine,” you acquiesce. You reach your hands underneath Cathy’s skirt and grab at the very base of her tail, pulling it up, and her skirt along with it. You raise it so that the end is pressed against your chest. “Higher! That’s not high enough!” You obediently raise Cathy’s tail higher… but only a little bit. She balls her fist and stamps her foot, which causes her to wince and almost lose control for a second. “Raise it all the way up! All the way!” “I don’t see why you want me to do this,” you say, trying to drag it on as long as you possibly can. “Just do it!” Cathy yells, then adds quietly, “I want you to see…” Satisfied with her answer, you push her tail up against her back, bringing her skirt up as well. By now, her skirt is entirely lifted, giving you clear view of everything underneath. Cathy spreads her legs further bending forwards and pointing her rump at you. Once she knows you’re staring, she finally gives her bladder the sweet relief it so craves. 27 hours of holding end in a spectacular spurt as Cathy gives in. She shudders instantly and lets out the loudest, longest moan you’ve ever heard from her. Her stream shoots forcefully down onto the poor flower bush below, absolutely drenching it in a single second and plowing into the flower bed below. You almost take a step back, as the splash from the initial impact is enough to spray your ankles, but on second thought, you don’t actually mind. “Mmmn, that’s what I’ve been waiting for,” Cathy sighs. Her stream is bright yellow and incredibly thick. It pours out endlessly, pounding the poor flower below and causing it to bend and sway under the pressure. It stays together for the most part, but several mini-streams crawl down the sides of her legs and off towards the side. Cathy leans even further forwards to let you get an even better view, and you find yourself having to yank her tail back ever so slightly to keep the pure force of her release from pushing her off balance. You decide to quickly stick you hand underneath Cathy’s giant waterfall to feel its warmth on your fingertips, but quickly pull away once you make contact. It’s gushing so fast out of her that sticking your hand underneath it for even a second is actually painful. You almost find yourself losing your balance as well due to the immense pressure pulling your hand downwards to the ground immediately. The pee ricochets off of your hand with such intensity that it sprays you in the chest, and sends several droplets flying outwards towards the walls of the greenhouse. “Mhmmm~” Cathy moans. “Don’t try and feel it juuust yet. Aaah~” she says in between heavy breaths. “I’ve still got tons more to let out. I’ll drench you later. Right now… I have to water all these flowers!” “Water the flowers?” you say, looking at the sorry state of the absolutely drenched flowers in between Cathy’s legs. You’re definitely jealous of them, but of course, you’ll have to wait your turn. “At the rate you’re going, you’re going to kill them!” “Oh, oops!” Cathy realizes, looking down. “I got too excited.” Cathy, without closing her legs, walks forwards to the next lavender bush in line. By now, the liquid that has since dripped down her legs are forming puddles in the walkways between the flower beds. You adopt your own bow-legged stance as your straddle the flower bed behind her. You feel the bottoms of your feet squish and splash into the wet puddles surrounding the first flower. Suddenly, your socks begin to dampen and grow incredibly warm, as if they were filled with foot warmers. The entirety of your feet become submerged in the expansive steaming puddle that Cathy is now leaving behind. Heat radiates from Cathy’s stream, and the greenhouse already is starting to become steamy. You can smell the acute scent of ammonia through the mist that meets your nose. The air around Cathy’s stream is even starting to shimmer like a sunbaked desert road. Droplets of fluid drip endlessly down the insides of Cathy’s thighs like wandering raindrops on a car window. Whether it’s sweat, cum, pee, or a mix of all three, you can’t tell, but there’s an insane amount of it. After about two minutes of peeing, the second flower bed looks like it has reached its saturation point. You gently nudge Cathy forwards, and the waddles to the next flower bed, her stream not diminishing in the slightest. “It feels so much better and relieving knowing you’re watching,” Cathy says in between pants and moans. “It’s just not the same without you! It always feels like something’s missing, but now it’s finally complete~” A large shudder ripples down from her shoulders to her legs, as she clenches and unclenches her fists and thighs uncontrollably. A loud and whining hissing sound drones on from under her, filling the room with the echoes of her endless torrent pulverizing the ground below. She spends a third minute on the third flower bed, and then moves onto the next without hesitation. “So is this how you water the plants every day?” “Yes! Yes! I do this every single day. But! Not as heavily as this. Usually I just give each one a quirk squirt! I don’t drown them all!” Cathy moans again, but even louder. Her voice is rising, and her breaths are getting quicker. In fact, she’s almost hyperventilating out of pleasure and excitement. Her longue lolls out of her mouth, adding a little bit of drool to the mix of liquids that soak her body. Since it’s been three minutes and she’s only soaked three plants, you take a look at all the remaining flowers. Ten rows of five plants each… at the pace she’s going at, Cathy’s going to take another 47 minutes to do them all! “You do know that it’s going to take forever for you to water all these flowers, right?” you say, a little bit of jealously and worry in your voice. “Are you sure you’re not going to run out before you’re done? I mean, we both know you have an enormous bladder, but you’ve never been able to piss that much. You told me you’d save some for me!” “You have no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to this,” Cathy replies in a husky, sultry voice. “I’ve been practicing so much, holding so much, peeing so much… I’ve been breaking records over and over again, just for you. My bladder still feels like I haven’t released a drop! I’m going to drown every single flower in this goddamn greenhouse for an entire minute, and then I’m going to flood the greenhouse, and then I’m going to drown you!” “Cathy, you’re getting way too excited again,” you warn her. It’s been a while since she’s been this ecstatic, and there are many instances you can remember in which she got a little carried away… “Then I’m going to fill up and overflow the toilet, AND the bathtub. Then I’m going to run outside and piss in the streets, and I’m going to flood the town! I’m going to keep peeing and peeing and peeing and peeing and I’m never going to run out! I never want to stop, never ever! I’m going to… ah.” Finally, Cathy seems to come back to reality. She moves forwards to the fourth flower bush and takes a deep breath, calming herself down. Though her stream only continues to ramp up in intensity and width. “Sorry, sorry. I got a little carried away. But it just feels so satisfying! Next time you have to come over earlier.” “You really got sexually frustrated after only a week?” you tease her. By now, your socks would have started to dry a little bit and grow cold, but there’s so much new urine splashing everywhere that they always are getting re-wet. As you eventually make your way around the greenhouse, minute by minute, you end up pulling closer and closer to Cathy’s body, until you are completely pressed up against your backside. This means that now, your entire lower half is within the splash zone, and Cathy’s pee is so intense that some droplets even reach all the way up to your chest. Eventually your entire body waist-down becomes soaked in the rebound. All the while Cathy is moaning and panting, whispering things like “hold me” or “this feels incredible” while shaking uncontrollably. Several minutes after first starting, she almost falls down from her legs giving way because of the immense pleasure that racks her body nonstop. She shoves her hand in front of her mouth to stop her tongue from hanging out and her drool from sliding out from under it. Her eyes roll back up towards the ceiling as tears of relief begin to form and slowly drop down her beet-red cheeks. “Lower, lower!” she calls out to your through her hand, which muffles her words to the point of being unintelligible. “What?” you say. She takes her hand out of her mouth, which causes her jaw to drop habitually. She fights to keep it closed as another spurt of pleasure shocks through her body. “Bend down lower! Don’t stand up straight, crouch down so you can see better!” “Okay?” you say, obliging. The closer you get to her stream, the louder it becomes, until it almost is ringing in your ears. It’s like standing next to a waterfall, or putting your ear next to a bath faucet on full blast. The stream shifts left and right, unpredictable and fast like the raging rapids of a river. You can smell it strongly from right between Cathy’s thighs, alongside her personal musky scent. “Yes, that’s it. Stare at it and be hypnotized,” Cathy says in a raunchy tone. “It feels so warm and powerful bursting out like that, mmm… It’s making my entire body vibrate! It’s endless too, it just keeps coming, and it feels so hot and sticky dripping down my thighs… look at how I’m just absolutely soaking all these plants… I bet you’re jealous! You want to be soaked too, don’t you? You want to be marked with my scent – no, you want to be absolutely flooded with my scent until you can’t smell anything else! You want to be drenched to the bone! Mmmm, isn’t it just so tantalizing? The stream is right there, and my bladder is still full! There’s an endless amount of piss, don’t you want just a teensy, tiny little taste? You can’t possibly be satisfied with just watching me pee like this! You’ve never been satisfied with that. I know you better than that. You want to just take me in your mouth and guzzle down all of it, don’t you~?” “I think someone’s projecting a little bit,” you say, trying to banter back. In reality, her offer is almost impossible to resist. You’ve been watching her have all the fun for two entire hours, you realize as you check the time. It’s almost 10 at night. “We both know that’s what you want me to do. But I won’t be tempted!” “Oh… two more hours of this and you’ll be begging for a sip,” Cathy says, moving onto the next flower. By the time ten o’ clock arrives, Cathy finishes up “gardening” for the night. At the last flower, she struggles a bit, stuffing her hands and tail into her crotch to stop her massive bladder for leaking any more pee for now. After getting it under control, she heaves a long, immensely aroused sigh and turns to you. “Time to admire my work,” she says proudly, gesturing to the rest of the greenhouse. If one couldn’t see the roof over the entirety of the greenhouse, one would have assumed that a monsoon had just happened the day before. No part of the greenhouse is left completely dry, with every since nook and cranny of it varying from completely submerged to somewhat soaked. It’s clear that all the flower beds have exceeded their saturation points, and many of the flowers are completely surrounded by still-steaming pee. Puddles are everywhere, making it impossible to walk through the greenhouse without stepping in at least one. Even the walls of the greenhouse are somewhat damp. You gape in awe at Cathy’s accomplishment. This is the work of a cumulonimbus cloud, not one tiny little skunk girl. “You’ve improved since last week,” you comment, trying not to show your awe. “And it feels like I’ve barely let out a drop!” Cathy exclaims proudly, before turning to you and suddenly embracing you with a kiss on the lips. She closes her eyes and leans into you, thrusting her entire body weight on your chest. You have to take a few steps back to steady yourself, but manage to stay upright. Cathy presses further into you, moaning during the sloppy exchange. She pushes her soaking crotch up against your legs, letting you feel just how hot it is. Despite taking a break from peeing, Cathy’s heart is beating faster than ever. Her breaths are labored, almost gasps. She clutches wildly at your back with her fingers, rubbing you with all four limbs and her tail, almost as if she’s trying to mold herself to you. She’s still shaking rapidly, and there’s an almost crazed, feral look in her eyes. After a minute of making out, Cathy pulls away, licking her lips. “I missed you sooo much,” she says through gasps. “Okay! Break over! Time for round two!” Cathy then takes you over to the front desk, where she tells you to stay put. She goes back inside the store and brings out a large wooden bucket, wide enough to stand in. “I did say that I would prepare a scent for you, didn’t I?” she says with a smirk. She discreetly moves all the objects on the counter to the side, storing a few. After that, she places the bucket in the middle of the countertop and then climbs on top of the counter. “How many bottles do you want?” “Well, I can always get more, right? How about just one for now?” “Coming right up!” Cathy says with glee, before lifting her skirt, straddling the bucket, and grunting softly. Her bladder unclenches, and after a second’s delay, Cathy’s second stream shoot down into the bucket, colliding against the bottom with extreme force. “Be careful not to get splashed! If you get too wet, I won’t consider giving you a shower afterwards~” Cathy teases, keeping you eyeing her golden stream thirstily, unable to quench your desires. You try to edge forward, but the droplets bouncing out of the bucket keep you from approaching. As the minutes tick onwards, you watch as the bucket slowly begins to fill up with rippling liquid. Bubbles full of air and foamy froth swirl around the ever-rising surface. One minute turns into two, two minutes turn two five, five minutes turn to ten, ten minutes turn to fifteen, and fifteen minutes turn to thirty. At long last, Cathy finishes filling up the bucket, but not without letting copious amounts of fluid splash onto the counter. Satisfied with her work, Cathy lets her skirt drop and climbs down from the counter. Then, she takes a bottle of eucalyptus oil, and another small, empty bottle that easily fits in her palm. Unscrewing the cap of the empty bottle, she dips it into the steaming bucket of urine, filling it halfway. Several drops drip down from her hands and from the glass of the bottle back into the container. Then, she takes the bottle of eucalyptus oil and pours a little bit of it in, filling the bottle completely. The smallest wisps of steam escape from it. Cathy dips a delicate finger into the bottle, mixing the two ingredients together. Then, she takes her finger out, still slick and dripping with the solution, and walks over to you. “Hold still,” she says, before taking her finger and sliding it across the skin underneath your nose. A pungent scent hits your nostrils immediately. It’s an herbal scent at first, but there are definite undertones of musk and ammonia. Not enough to make it rancid, but enough to be able to smell distinctly. It’s an earthy scent, and it reminds you of the space between Cathy’s thighs. “There. That should be a little bit of an appetizer before we get to the main course,” Cathy taunts, screwing the cap on the bottle of her special scent and passing it to you. “You get to keep this for as long as you’d like. But absolutely NO drinking. Got it?” You nod in understanding. Drinking eucalyptus oil is probably a bad idea. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, I still need to use the little skunk’s room,” Cathy admits. By now, the sun has set completely and the stars are out. Complete darkness shrouds the windows looking outside. Leaving the bucket on the counter, Cathy gestures for you to follow. She leads you back into the back rooms of the store until you reach a closed wooden door. She opens it and invites you in. “The cool thing about having a store is that you get your own indoor privy,” Cathy says as you enter. You close the door behind you, taking in the space. It’s just big enough for the two of you to stand in, but that’s all the space it has. “It was so annoying having to wake up in the middle of the night all the time with a bursting bladder just to run down the stairs, out the door, and all the way to the outhouse outside. Now I don’t have to deal with the cold outside air. Though, it still doesn’t prevent me from wetting myself sometimes,” she says with a wink. The skunk girl lifts up her skirt and plops down onto the toilet seat, spreading her legs as wide as you can and offering you a pristine view into the empty pit below and her thoroughly soaked nether regions. You kneel down on the floor for a closer view. You’re in luck, because the seat is raised high enough so that your chin rests at the perfect height to clear the seat edge. “If you put your head between my legs, I might let you get a lick or two in~” Cathy offers seductively. She knows what she wants. You wedge your face in, already getting your head wet from the pure dampness of Cathy’s thighs. You can see into the privy more clearly now. The pit it itself is a rectangular one, dug deep into the ground. Besides the entirety of the raised area, which is a few feet from the ground, the pit extends a couple feet downwards as well. You surmise that if you stood in the pit, the top of your head would be just under Cathy’s rear. Cathy was obviously planning for this part of your night together, because there is not a single drop of pee or any excrement whatsoever in the toilet. It has all been cleaned out meticulously, almost obsessively. There are several stains in the wooden upper walls of the pit, marking the urine line of several massive trips to the loo. However, while many lines got close, none really approach the top of the privy. It seems like in the week that Cathy moved in and started setting up shop in this building, she had failed to completely fill the toilet while practicing for the big night. Before you can take it all in, though, you feel Cathy’s stomach rumble as she jerks her legs apart and twitches suddenly. A third stream of urine shoots out of her, instantly spraying your face with mist and stray droplets. You being to pull your face back out of instinct, but Cathy closes her thighs quickly. You feel the pressure of her thighs squeezing against the sides of your head, and are unable to escape. “Oh, no. You are watching me this whole time. I don’t want you taking eyes off my pee for a second!” As time goes on, you notice Cathy’s movements becoming more aggressive, erratic, and impatient. It seeps into her voice, too, as she takes a more petulant, demanding tone. You feel her hands press gently against the back of your head as you stare downwards, watching her waterfall cascade and pirouette through the air before landing with a splash down below. She begins to almost knead your hair like a cat kneading a soft blanket. Her breathing becomes ragged and you feel her lean back and sigh. You hear the impact of the back of her head against the wall of the privy as she rolls her eyes up towards the ceiling in pure erotic ecstasy. Her smell is driving you crazy, penetrating your nostrils and filling your mind. She’s held you from being drenched for so long now, and you’re yearning to do more than just watch. But you know her. While she may deny it for a while, in the end, Cathy always let you have your fill. It’s just so hard to resist… But both Cathy and you know that for a container this big, even if Cathy has more than enough in the tank to overflow it, it would take a very, very long time. You’re almost about to spark a conversation to pass the time, but Cathy does it for you. “Can you believe it? I still need to go, even after all that,” Cathy remarks. “It’s been at least an hour, right? It has to have been. Back in high school, I was aiming to last ten minutes! It’s crazy how much I’ve improved since then. It’s crazy how much more I’ve been able to hold since last week, even!” “How long have we been doing this again?” “Years, at least! That’s all I know. And we’ve had so many good memories. So many… hot memories…” Cathy trails off, lost in remembrance. “Remember the time we ate out at that tavern to celebrate our graduation, and I drank too much and didn’t realize until it was too late? How the privy was all occupied and there was this huge line? You had to take me out back so that I could pee in the bushes in the alleyway… I remember how you stood in front of me so that the people passing by on the road wouldn’t look into the alley and see me while I went! That was exhilarating, wasn’t it?” “Oh, and remember that time where you dared me to drink that entire pitcher and then ride out into the country on a bump carriage to see how far I’d get? I don’t remember how far we actually got… but I do remember that I was squirming and fidgeting for hours until the wagon hit a huge stone and made me lose control,” she says, her words getting faster and more breathless. She’s squirming now, too, rubbing her thighs against the sides of your head and squeezing them intermittently. By now the entire floor of the toilet is covered, and the water is steadily rising. As she recalls those events, you remember too. “So I had to run to the back of the carriage and pee off the end and onto the road as we moved forwards! You held me to make sure I didn’t fall off, and we just kept going and going and going! I must have left a trail at least a mile long by the time I was done. Well, that’s hyperbole, but I went for a really, really long time. It still turns me on when I think about it.” “Oh! And do you remember that time where we went to the beach and you wanted to dig a pit so that you could sit it in and cover yourself up until only your head was above the ground? But I had too many drinks the night before and being near the ocean made me so desperate that I couldn’t even make it all the way down to the ocean in time before I burst? I ended up sitting in the pit instead! I filled it up and we had to cover it with sand to make sure that nobody got suspicious why there was this pit full of pee sitting there in the middle of the beach! You remember that, right? Of course you do! It was so sexy feeling myself squirt all over the place and flood my bikini… and it was even hotter when you had to dry me off afterwards! I was so soaked, and you had to rub every part of my body to get it off… I wish we could do that again sometime…” Cathy’s words flow out of her mouth like the torrent that spills out from under her. So aroused that even conscious thought and coherent sentences are hard to put together for her, Cathy continues to rant and recollect every fun little “accident” you and her had together over the years. It goes on and on, with Cathy’s legs shaking, twitching, shuddering, vibrating, and kicking every time she gets another rush of pure lust and relief. The sound of her pee splashing down into the privy gets deeper and deeper the fuller it gets. The water rises gradually, but even after over an hour of peeing, Cathy shows absolutely no signs of slowing down anytime soon. Eventually, when Cathy runs out of stories to tell, she simply slumps back against the wall and pants like a dog, letting her tongue roll out and her mouth open wide. A couple more minutes pass and finally the privy is filled to the brim with Cathy’s unbridled pee. She finally opens her legs wide enough for you to pull your head back and take a huge gulp of fresh air. You fall back onto the floor, gasping as her intense smell fades away. She does the same, letting out a huge sigh of relief and staring down at her handiwork. There’s so much that it’s enough to bathe in, or even swim in. She rubs her bladder contentedly. It’s almost too much pleasure. The endless ecstasy that comes with Cathy’s endless pee is driving her feral. She has to remind herself to pace herself, and to not get too carried away again. She slowly gets up from her seat, rubbing her read end. After an hour of sitting, it’s gotten a little sore. You brush yourself off as well and check the time. 11:30 pm, which means that you two have spent another hour in the bathroom together. “Ready for round four?” Cathy says, helping you up. “Four? You’re not done?” “I wouldn’t have used the bathroom if I didn’t know that I’d still have lots more to spare after I was done!” the skunk girl says, lifting her tail and wagging it like a dog. “I know you want to get peed on. And I’ve been keeping you waiting for hours. You’ve been so good, holding yourself back like that. I know you just wanted to be under all that pee the whole time. Well, I think it’s time I reward you!” Excited, you follow Cathy up the stairs and into the residential part of the building. The second floor of the store is dedicated to Cathy herself, and includes her bedroom among other things. You enter her room to be greeted by rows and rows of potted flowers, candles, and tiny bottles all arranged in neat arrays on light wooden desks. The entire room carries a cottagecore aesthetic, with bright white curtains and lights adoring the windows. A large fur rug is spread out on the floor in front of a queen-size bed with an incredibly comfy-looking fur blanket. “Lie down on the rug,” Cathy says, pushing you down gently. You acquiesce to her demand, kneeling down and then spreading yourself out on the rug, supine. Cathy kneels down with you, crawling forwards until she’s straddling your chest, facing you. She shifts forwards, until she’s sitting on top of your face. You get a faceful of that wonderful Cathy scent as she softly grinds her pussy into your mouth with quiet moans and shivers. “Oh, I know you’ve been waiting for this,” she murmurs in a low voice. “I am going to soak you. I’m going to drench you. I’m going to cover you in piss into you can swim in the puddle. I’m going to make every inch of your body undeniably soggy. I’m going to piss and piss and piss until you’re hot and sticky and wet all over. This is how skunk girls like us mark our territory. I’m not going to just spray you, I’m going to take my scent and lather you in it until you can’t smell anything else. I’m not just going to squirt a little bit of stinky fluid out of my ass and leave you with a smell that’ll go away in a few days, I’m going to make my scent soak you to the bone so hard that you’ll be smelling like me for weeks! I’m going to make it loud and clear that you are my precious little toilet, and I’m going to fill you up like I do with every other toilet I use.” Cathy takes a deep breath, and continues to pant. She wipes the sweat off her brow, but there’s no getting rid of the rosy color in her cheeks as she blushes furiously. “H-how was that?” she says, suddenly shy. “I-I’ve been practicing my dirty talk, you know. I hope that’s what you wanted to hear. Here it comes!” You brace for your mouth to be filled in a second with a relentless gushing burst of pee, but when Cathy’s muscles relax, all that comes out is a steady and slow trickle. “Don’t worry. I can maintain some… rational thought, even when I get too excited,” Cathy reassures you. “I’m not going to hurt you or drown you. I’m going to… take it slow so that you can drink. Then we’ll turn it back up again when I pee all over you.” As the liquid hits your tongue, you notice a barely-perceptible soft tangy flavor, almost bitter in a sense, salty in another. You lap at it greedily as it flows easily down your throat little bit little. Cathy presses her lips onto you, leaning forwards and planting her hands down on both sides of your head. Your tongue inches forwards until you penetrate her soaking slit, warmth and soft wetness surrounding you completely and coating your entire face with her skunk girl scent. It’s as hot as an oven between her legs, and her endless stream cascades down over the top of your tongue and into your esophagus, like freshwater trickling down a Roman aqueduct. You stick your tongue as far in as you can, causing her to shudder violently and squeeze the sides of your heads with her damp, hot thighs. You can feel her entire body vibrating with pleasure as she takes her hands and rubs the top of your head with them, ruffling your hair. “Y-yes, that’s a good flower,” Cathy soothes, pressing even further deeper into your tongue. “Take it all in. Drink every… last… drop…” She brushes a tuft of hair out of your face, and leans down slightly to look you in the eyes. Her eyes are teary from relief, and her cheeks are soaked from happy tears. She’s still panting, but this time she’s close enough that you can feel her hot breath swirling all around you. “That’s it… gently now, suck it all out… you deserve this reward,” she coos as you shift your tongue inside her, causing her to yelp and squeeze for a second. “Mmmhh~” She suddenly grabs both sides of your head and brings her own face as closer as she can without getting up from her seat on your face. “You’re beautiful. You know that? Thank you so much for sticking with me for all these years, and putting up with my freakiness,” she bites her lip, and it’s hard to tell if the glistening droplets around her eyes are from relief or affection or both. Cathy continues to hold onto your head, staring into your eyes and breathing heavily. She takes one hand and brushes her fingertips across your skin in the gentlest of motions, tracing the outline of your features with a loving caress. She holds your cheeks in her hands and cradles them together. One minute passes before Cathy’s slow and relaxed trickle quiets down and stops. She pulls back, your tongue slipping smoothly out of her with an unimaginably wet squelching sound, and stands up, still straddling you. Her stance is extremely unsteady, and her hands are glued to her crotch as her legs wobble and bend. “I-I can’t,” she squeals. “I can’t!” Cathy’s hands get pushed away from her nether regions as the prodigal amount of self-control she had earlier in weakening her stream enough for you to drink is shattered in an instant. The dam breaks completely, as a fifth, new wave of pee comes gushing out unbridled and uncontainable. Mixed in with the giant hissing stream is another white liquid. As fluid flows out of two places at once, Cathy tilts her head back and almost screams in delight. The energy it takes to push everything out of her body at once overcomes her, and the force of orgasming and peeing at the same time makes her lose her balance and drop down to the floor. She presses herself on top of you, spreading herself out until she’s lying on top of you in a vertical embrace. Her face ends up right next to yours, and without hesitation she pushes her mouth onto yours, filling your mouth with hot, panting breaths. She takes both of your hands in hers and squeezes tightly. Every inch of her body is vibrating rapidly, and you have to clench her palms in yours to keep her hands from shaking around too much. An immense force pushes into your body, like trying to press your hand up against a running garden hose. Cathy wraps her thighs and legs around your leg like a pole, shoving her pussy against your thigh and causing the extreme force of her pee to make her stream split in all directions and fly across the rug. It’s unspeakably loud, too, with an incessant hissing that fills the entire room with the sound of her relief. You can almost swear that it could be heard outside the building, and that it’s almost even shaking the building itself with how hard she’s releasing. In no time, a massive puddle starts to form on the floor, and your back, which is pressed against it, is already sopping wet and fully stained by her urine. You have to fight to hold Cathy steady as she squirms like a worm, simply unable to keep still for even a fraction of a second. “I love you!” she whispers frantically into your ear, pushing her mouth right up against it so that her warm breath flows into it and penetrates your brain. “I love you I love you I love you- Aaah!” Completely surrounded by nothing but Cathy, with thoughts only of her, you let your eyes close as you melt into the sensation of her lips against yours. She pumps your lungs full with her own exhalation, filling your chest and stomach with warmth. Once again, Cathy’s hissing deluge pours out of her bladder as she dumps gallons of pee onto you. The puddle spreads until it completely surrounds you, and due to the massive spray, every single inch of your body quickly becomes saturated with pee. Droplets drip down all parts of your body, and all parts of Cathy’s as well. Her skirt has become entirely soaked and hangs down from her hips like a sopping wet towel. Even her face and her hair eventually become damp. This drags on for minutes and minutes, and you feel the floor under you become oversaturated as well. You imagine that at least some of her urine must be dripping down into the floor and then out the ceiling of the first floor down below. You can imagine how, if you stood on the ground floor and looked up, you could see a giant wet patch in the ceiling dripping down onto your head. Ever so slowly, Cathy’s heart and breathing slowly begin to turn to a more normal pace as she closes her eyes and lets her weight rest on you. Her pee still leaks out at an astronomical rate, but it becomes less of a forceful gushing spray and more akin to pouring a gallon of liquid down a drain. The feeling of her warmth wrapping around yours like a cozy blanket is almost enough to put you to sleep. Cathy begins to slowly stop shaking and become steadier and more stable. Soon enough, she decides to cut off her stream once more so that her bedroom doesn’t become completely flooded. After stopping, she takes a deep breath and slowly peels herself off you. The wet cum that she squirted out and drenched you with makes parts of your clothes stick to hers. She sits up, causing ripples in the giant puddle she’s created. “This is by far the best time we’ve had together,” she sighs contently. “I was so overloaded with pleasure – I didn’t know it was possible to feel this good.” “But I’m calmer now. And look how dirty we are! We’re both completely soaked. I hope that was as satisfying for you as it was for me.” You look at your watch, and it reads 12:30 AM. Past midnight. The intense, abject flood that Cathy unleashed on you makes it clear that you wouldn’t be able to go home so dripping wet. It’s certain that you’re going to have to stay the night. “It’s so late,” Cathy says, echoing your thoughts. “I can’t believe that I lasted so long. You want to sleep together?” Cathy gestures to her bed. Several droplets fly off of her fingertips. You raise your head up and nod. “Well, what do you say to a nice, warm bath to relax and wind down after so much fun?” Cathy suggests. “I have lots of things for baths. It would be perfect to clean ourselves up a bit before we go to bed.” When you get into Cathy’s bathroom, you realize that strangely, there is no barrel or bucket of water to fill up the bathtub. You start to wonder how exactly Cathy is going to fill the bathtub with no water, when she closes the door behind you and locks it. Whatever thoughts you have are interrupted by her pulling you close to her. “Peeing so much and getting so aroused took a lot out of me. It feels like I peed out every ounce of energy I had left. I’m sooooo tired,” she says with a seductive smile. “I’m so tired, I need you to undress me.” You’re tired too, but an offer like that you simply can’t resist. You start with the top first, reaching under the edge of Cathy’s crop top and pulling it upwards. She pulls her arms out of the sleeves for you as you pull it over her head and discard it. Underneath, she’s wearing her thin white undershirt that’s incredibly see-through. It even shows the outline of her bra through the fabric. The undershirt is next to go, leaving her in nothing but a top and a dripping wet skirt. You bend down to waist level and slowly drop the skirt, wriggling it around her legs as it sticks to her thighs. It flops to the ground with an audible thump due to the weight of the liquid saturating it. Then, you reach up and remove her bra, and Cathy stands naked before you. She giggles, turning around and showing off. “My turn,” she whispers in your ear, before slowly and teasingly undressing you as well. She makes sure to drag her fingertips against the surface of your most sensitive parts, delicate enough to make you shiver. After both of you are undressed, Cathy enters the tub, which is built into the end of the bathroom, surrounded on three sides by walls. Sitting against the wall on the side of the tub and stretching her legs forwards and apart, she gestures for you to come and sit between them. You do, it dawning on you just what’s going to come next. As you take your seat between Cathy’s legs, you feel her arms wrap around you and pull you back into her chest in a loving embrace. She rests her head on your shoulder and leans it against the side of yours, nestling it within the space between your chin and your shoulder. “Now I get to pamper you all I want,” she whispers in your ear, her lips brushing against the very tip of your earlobe. “Come on, lean back into me and close your eyes. I’m going to make you feel heavenly for how good you made me feel earlier.” As you do so, Cathy presses her lips against the soft part of you neck, sighing as the smell of ammonia acutely grows stronger. You feel a sudden spurt of warmth against your back, as little streams of liquid crawl around the curves of your bodies, trickling into the tub. “Again?” “Mmmh…” is all Cathy says in reply as she slumps back against the wall and cradles you in her arms, pulling you back and massaging your shoulders with her nimble fingers. You drop them as they relax, and you melt into her embrace as she lets the contents of her bladder empty out once more into the tub. It’s a slow, steady stream, sounding more like the trickle of a water flowing down a bamboo pipe into a miniature pond. There’s none of that ecstatic, manic force gushing out of her anymore, but you can still feel the pleasure she’s experiencing ripple through the inside of her body and her core. While still peeing, Cathy reaches over towards a bottle that lies on the edge of the tub and opens it, pouring a bit of shampoo on her hands. She rubs them together as they make a slick, slippery sound, and then kneads your hair deeply with the suds. The crunchy, soft texture of the bubbles against your scalp are just what you need to cool down after such an intense activity together. It’s hard to keep your eyes open as you lie back and let Cathy take care of you. Tingles run throughout your body as you close your eyes and let your other senses melt your worries away. The crunchy, undulating sound of Cathy shampooing your hair, the soft refuge of Cathy’s arms, the warmth pooling around your waist, the smell of ammonia, salt, and musk, mixed with a sweet scent, a refreshing, cool herbal tang, and a soapy, candy-like aroma… they all swirl around you. After shampooing your hair, Cathy takes another, smaller bottle, and opens the cap. Underneath it is a rotating metal ball attached to the container, wet with the aromatic oil inside. She takes the bottle and presses the ball against your skin, rotating it and sliding it across your body like an artist’s paintbrush. She does so until your limbs, face, and abdomen are coated in a very thin layer of aromatic oil. It’s a heavenly, unique scent. The blissful, natural, delicate smell of Cathy’s oils, and the raw, feral, sensual scent of Cathy herself and her bodily fluids. Eventually, the clear, off-white liquid fills the tub enough for your legs and your own nether regions to become submerged in steaming hot Cathy fluid. You shudder as the pee rises just above your genitals, as Cathy takes her own delicate fingers and pushes them between your legs, feeling around your genitalia and splashing around. It’s a gentle, soothing touch as she rubs up and down the surface of your privates. With her other hand, she flips open a bottle of soap. She takes a moment to pour a heavy amount into her hands, and then gets to work covering your entire body, especially your lower region, in a copious amount of suds and bubbles. Cathy continues to do this for a considerable amount of time, until the bathtub slowly begins to fill to the brim over the course of several minutes. She does this while whispering in your ears the entire time with positive affirmations and loving words. Sometimes, she simply moves her lips, letting her gentle breath melt against your ears. She takes yet another bottle and lathers the substance on her hands before pressing her palms against your temples. She takes her thumbs and her index fingers and presses softly into the pressure points on your face, drawing the oil across your face, coating it in a facial mask. “Keep your eyes closed,” she soothes, turning her head to the side to allow room for you to rest your head on her shoulders. You persist in a state of almost-limbo, completely relaxed by Cathy’s care. Several more minutes pass until Cathy finishes filling up the tub with her golden liquid. As she shuts off her stream, she giggles as the warm bubbly pressure you feel behind you subsides. She wraps her arms around your chest and pulls you close like a little kid hugging their teddy bear. She pulls you far back enough that only your head remains above the surface. The entirety of your body otherwise is completely submerged. It’s almost like a hot tub, the warmth pervading every inch of your skin. The steam constantly rising up from the bath flits through your nostrils and makes you a little fuzzy. Cathy reaches forwards into the tub of urine and weaves her fingers through it, near the surface. She cups both of her hands and lifts them out of the water as you watch her pee drip down noisily, clinging to the back of her hands and cascading down her arms. She repeats this a few times, drawing handfuls of her own pee out of the water and watching it fall back down, causing faint undulating ripples. You reach out and grab her hands, intertwining yours and hers as you play with the clear, faintly-scented liquid. Together you collect handfuls only to hear the sound of it flowing back down into the water, like a chef lifting ladles out of a steaming pot of soup. Now that the two of you are relaxed, you can slow down enough to have a chat. You absentmindedly slosh each other’s arms around the tub while you catch each other up on what happened between when you saw each other last and now. While the pee is still warm, Cathy asks you to clean her up as well. You take the time to use the same bath supplies that she used, filling her hair with suds and bubbles. She blushes intensely as you rub her body delicately with her soap, but makes no resistance. You trace her small shoulders and chest, down to her soft belly and warm hips. As you move your arms around, she grasps onto them, perching her hands on top of your forearms and wrists like clothes draping from a clothesline. After you’re satisfied with your accomplishment, you draw your hands away from Cathy, only to have her pull you back close. She tells to you close your eyes once more and bow your head. You hear a sloshing sound as Cathy takes a large empty cup from the stand beside the bath and dips it into the pee, filling the cup to the brim in one sweeping motion. She takes the cup above your head and slowly tilts it downwards, causing a cascade of pee to rain down on top of your head and carry the suds with it down back into the bath. She pours and pours and pours until the cup runs empty, and then she dips it into the contents of the bath and repeats. A few quiet minutes pass as you feel the sticky, slightly salty substance slide every which way down your head. All the suds are now gone, and it’s your turn to take the cup and drench Cathy in her own warm nectar. She looks up obediently, shutting her eyes. Even though she is pressed against the wall, her tail still continues to wiggle back and forth in pleasure. You fill the cup, marveling at how every single drip that surrounds and submerges you came from deep inside Cathy herself. With the cup of pee, you pour it down directly onto Cathy’s face, watching as it splashes on her pristine features and tickles down, intertwining with her hair and sliding down her soft body. You take you hands and rub her scalp some more, making sure to get all of the suds off of her and into the foamy urine bath below. Once you both are finished, you decide that you should probably get out of the bath before the steam and heat get to you. Cathy agrees, and you both stand up out of the water, causing a massive ripple and sloshing sound to echo throughout the bathroom. It sounds so deep, hearing the incredible amount of urine undulate and collapse in on itself with a booming splash. Both Cathy and you step out of the tub, grabbing the towels hanging on the rack beside the bath and unfolding them. While you stand, countless amounts of urine slithers down your bodies and pools under your feet. Cathy turns over and unplugs the drain. You stare at the still-full bath as it drains noisily down. Even with an opening as wide as Cathy’s drain, it still takes several minutes for the entirety of the bath to empty. And yet, Cathy was able to release all this with an opening that was miniscule compared to the drain. You watch it swirl about, circling the drain before pouring in. While you do, Cathy takes her towel and begins using it to dry you. She repeats the same motions that she did when she was lathering you up with soap. Though the towel is rough in texture, she rubs you down gently. You quickly do the same to here at the same time, not wanting her to stay wet for too long. The two of you dry each other from head to toe. However, after the events of tonight, the both of you have been so thoroughly drenched in Cathy’s never-ending pee that there is nothing that the two of you can do to get rid of the pungent smell that emanates from every inch of both of your bodies. Thankfully, Cathy is still shivering, but not from cold. A warm smile lights her face. “I guess we’ll be sleeping naked tonight,” she says as she picks up you two’s still-drenched clothes and moves to hang them out to dry on her balcony. The outside air is chilly, so she does it quickly. By the time she comes back, you’re already in her bed, pulling the covers over. It’s toasty and comfy underneath. If only your bed was as comfortable as Cathy’s. She comes in from the balcony and quietly slips under the covers next to you. You can feel the warmth of her body pressing into you. It’s a fuzzy feeling, a melting feeling. A feeling like no other. She cuddles you as she pushes herself halfway on top of you and wraps her arms around your back. She presses her face directly up against yours, and looks you lovingly in the eyes. “Should I wet the bed?” she asks. “What?” “I’m joking, I’m joking,” she giggles, before promptly falling asleep in your arms.
  2. Hi! I'm Rika, the most wholesome pervert ever! My pronouns are she/her and I'm 18 years old. I'm a writer and artist and I'm really looking forward to sharing my art and writing with y'all! Fair bit of notice though, I'm really into hyper wetting so most of my stories will contain that. But they're also pretty wholesome :3 My discord is The Flower Systemଓ ・゚。#2972! (Please ask to DM, no DMs from strangers allowed )
  3. More is on the way! I'm thinking of making this a series, but right now I am currently working on another hyper-wetting story starring childhood friend and aromatherapist Cathy the skunk girl
  4. Here it is, my first post! It's a story I wrote as sort of my introductory post to OmoOrg. It's my first time writing anything remotely lewd, as well as my first time writing a story in present-tense second-person. Takes place in a small medieval-style village with significant amounts of magic and technological advancements. Also including a reference of Maple, drawn by yours truly! Perhaps I'll draw a scene from this story, too... CONTAINS: Animal girl (squirrel), hyper wetting, pee drinking, and more --------------------------------------------- A small flicker of candlelight from within the dark confines behind the window pane is all that you can detect from your stance outside the tavern. It’s a rather chilly autumn night, but your cheeks are warm with anticipation. The closed sign hangs conspicuously on the windowsill. Your head darts left and right, eyes wary for any pedestrians that would have caught your surreptitious activity. The cobblestone streets are empty. There are the distant calls of lively chatter in some late-night tavern or club nearby, and the faraway rumble of wooden wagon wheels on stone. Other than that, there is nothing but crickets to be heard. You glance up at the handmade sign hanging above you and the entrance to the inn. It’s a wooden one, hand-carved by the owner herself. Maple’s Nest, it reads. The title in calligraphy is superimposed upon an illustration of a squirrel tail curled around a jar of honey. You take a gloved hand and grasp the metal doorknob, brushing the laurel wreath hanging on the door aside as you enter. The sound of a gentle bell chime greets you as you open the door. Inside Maple’s Nest, the surrounding is dark, though you can still make out the dim outlines of dark oak and mahogany tables in the seating area directly ahead. The light from streetlamps outside shines through the windows and reflects on their ebony surfaces. Chairs are stacks upside down on the tables’ topsides. The floor creaks ever so slightly as you step on it, but not in an eerie way. It creaks in welcome, as it always does to the regulars who have visited this tavern inn and watched it grow from the ground up. Aside from you, there is only one other figure in the room. A young woman – though, a few years older than you – stands with her back turned to you behind the counter. She slides a semi-dirty rag over the empty tankard she’s polishing, too lost in her own thought to notice that you arrived. In that brief moment, you get to have a quick glance at her features. The curve of her back is hidden behind a voluminous squirrel tail, several feet tall and extremely fluffy. It’s an earthy orange, the same color as a maple leaf in the midst of autumn. A hazel stripe runs underneath the top of her tail down to its base. She wears a ridged wool sweater the same color as her tail stripe. Somehow, this sweater is able to both seem fluffy and soft, as if it were a layer of animal fur, and yet wrap so tightly around her figure as to leave little to the imagination. Its top is cut off, rendering her shoulders and the back of her neck exposed to the air and your eyes. On both sides of her navel and stomach, the fabric has also been cut away, revealing the smooth, warm skin of her sides. If she was wearing any sort of shorts, they were too short to see from your position. Her sweater drapes just far enough down past her waist to cover her adequately, but if she’s wearing anything underneath, you couldn’t tell. Her thighs and legs are completely exposed, save for some very fine and luxurious fur boots with buckles hiked up to her knees. Around her neck is a thin string necklace with a red maple leaf pendant in the front. Her hair is a light orange, the most orange hair you had ever seen, and poking out from it are two twitching squirrel ears. When she finally notices you, she turns around in shock, almost dropping her glass. She manages to set it down on the counter without any trouble. “Hey!” she says in a honeyed voice. It’s silky smooth, reminiscent of a mother’s lullaby. Despite only being a little younger than her, there’s this aura about her that reminds you of the proverbial ethereal mother figure. Listen to it too much, and you just might fall asleep. “Hey,” you wave to her. She glances at the closed sign outside the window. “I was wondering where you were today,” she says with a bemused yet relieved expression. “It’s not like you to miss out on the Sunday special. But… as much as I hate to say it, even though you’re a really faithful customer… the hours are the hours. I’m closed for the day. Sorry!” “Oh, it’s no problem, Maple,” you reassure her, walking closer to the counter and leaning over. She’s a bit taller than the average woman, and tall enough that her head rests a noticeable distance above yours. Though, when made apparent, the height difference really isn’t all that intimidating. “I’m not here for the Sunday special. I’m here for a different kind of order.” “Oh? What sort of order is it?” “I’d like to order some of Maple’s Syrup, please,” you say with a sly smile. Maple’s eyes widen as she gasps in shock. She takes a quick step back and does a double take. “M-Maple’s Syrup? Who told you about Maple’s Syrup? Who told you about the secret menu?” You offer nothing but a wink in reply. You can already see beads of sweat start to form on Maple’s forehead, and her cheeks are bright red. “I-I see now why you decided to come in so late,” Maple replies, holding a hand over her chest and catching her breath. “I may be closed for the night, but if you want Maple’s Syrup, I’d be h-happy to provide any time of day. How much would you like?” “As much as you have in you,” you reply without missing a beat. “I can’t believe this is happening,” Maple says, her voice becoming breathless. “I never thought I’d meet a customer who actually is into… the same thing I’m into.” Suddenly, realization dawns on her. “Is that why you always tried to get me to share a drink whenever you came over here on Sundays?” “Yes…” you say. Now it is your turn to get a little embarrassed. “Well, now that you know how to, you can just come here and ask,” Maple says. She eyes the tankard sitting on the countertop. “I mean… I was secretly hoping, but I would never have guessed you’d be the one who found out about it…” “Are you going to use that tankard?” you point towards it. Already your head is filling with images. But Maple simply laughs. “Oh, no no no. You have no idea what you’re in for. There is no way that tankard would be able to be enough…” Your eyes light up at the implication. “Have you been holding it, then?” Another reason why you decided to wait until the tavern was closed was that there was always the possibility that Maple might have been holding in her “syrup” until her shift was done. Maple shakes her head, however. “No. Actually, I just went only a couple minutes before you showed up. I was holding it… I didn’t get to use the bathroom at all during my entire shift. It felt so good to get all of that out after a long day of work. I would have held it longer if I knew you would come in here asking for it, though. Shame.” “Oh. Does that mean that you don’t have anything left? Since you just went, your bladder should be empty, right?” Your worried statement makes Maple giggle. “Aww, are you worried I won’t be able to do it? How cute! But you don’t have to worry. My bladder is never, ever empty,” she says with a suggestive smile. She grabs your hand and pulls you gently around the counter into the bartender’s area. “Come on! As a bonus, you’ll get an exclusive little behind-the-scenes tour. Help me find a big enough container for your drink tonight, sweetie~!” Maple brings you into a room with a lone wooden table in the center. Around the table are shelves upon shelves of pots, pans, glasses, and other containers. Maple starts leafing through the shelves to find what she’s looking for, and you do so as well. “Will this work?” you ask, holding up a beer glass. “Honey, you’re going to have to heighten your expectations. I’m going to need something a lot bigger than that.” The next item you offer is an empty wine bottle, which you were sure would be enough for anybody. But Maple simply shakes her head. There’s something akin to pride in her eyes. Her body is almost shaking with excitement, but you can tell she’s trying to play it cool. Shrugging, you go back to looking. “Aha!” Maple exclaims. You’re thinking that there couldn’t possibly be anything bigger than a wine bottle that anybody could fill in one go, especially just after they went, but… “Is that… a gallon jug?” you gasp in awe. “It sure is!” Maple says, unable to contain her pride. “Hopefully a gallon of syrup is enough to satisfy you?” “There’s no way,” you say, waving your hand and cracking a smile. “You’re pulling my leg. Do you really need an entire gallon jug?” At this, Maple shrugs. “If I’m being honest, I’d be very surprised if I didn’t need at least a gallon every time I peed.” You feel like this has to be some elaborate joke, and that Maple’s just trying to play up your fantasies, and you cast a disbelieving glance in her direction. Yet, she quickly pushes the table out of the way to make space on the wooden floor. She shuts the door behind you so that the two of you have complete privacy, and then kneels down on her knees on the ground, beckoning for you to come closer. The more time passes, the more you realize that she’s not joking. “Now, this jug has a really small opening,” Maple explains, blushing harder than ever. “…aaaand I can get a little intense when I let loose. So… do you think you could hold the jug steady while I make your ‘syrup’?” You nod eagerly and get down on all fours, taking off your gloves. Maple brings the jug between her legs, making an upside-down ‘v’ formation with her thighs. She reaches down underneath her sweater and slowly brings down her panties. Black lace. She slides them down effortlessly as she flicks it off the end of her toes and onto the floor. She readjusts herself, aiming for precision. You hold the slightly-opaque jug in anticipation, feeling Maple’s thighs tense up and press against the back of your hand. They’re warm. Maple brings her hand to her lips and covers them shyly. A couple seconds pass, and then a couple dozen. Not even so much as a drop slides out from underneath Maple’s sweater. You’ve been waiting patiently oh-so-long for this moment, and so there’s little patience to spare. “Are you going to start or not?” you say. “Were you just pulling my leg the entire time?” “No, no! Not at all,” Maple immediately protests, looking away. “It’s just that… I’ve always dreamt of doing this, but I’ve never actually done it before… It’s a little nerve-wracking. I mean, this isn’t exactly… normal, is it? I mean-” Maple cuts herself off, shaking her head. “How do I know that you’re not going to see me as weird? On top of it being… y’know, a piss fetish, I also pee more than any other person I know. It’s to the point where it’s an inconvenience… almost freakish. You won’t be… disgusted, or anything, right?” “Maple, I specifically came to you and asked you for this,” you reason. “What other reason could I have?” “W-well, maybe it was a dare, and that’s why someone told you, or maybe you’re doing it to get a laugh, or something…” “Maple, I’ve been waiting weeks to get this chance. And from the looks of it, you’ve been waiting longer. It may be hard to believe, but you ain’t alone in this. I’m into it too. I promise.” “Okay… but I still am a little shy. Can I ask a favor?” Maple looks away once more, and then lifts the hem of her sweater up to reveal her navel. “Can you push on my stomach?” You oblige, removing one hand from the jug to feel Maple’s bladder. It’s slightly bloated, but not enough that it would be noticeable to anyone not specifically looking for it. It’s hard to the touch, and you can feel ripples and bubbling sensations against the walls of her stomach. The moment you press down, Maple moans in pleasure, wedging her fingernail between her teeth. You press down harder, and then- Maple’s Syrup gushes out with astronomical force, enough to rattle the jug in a single second. You quickly rescind your hand from her navel as you desperately try and maintain control of the jug. Thankfully, only a few droplets land stray. They hit the rim and begin to trickle down the edge of the jug, running over your hand and making it moist. Her stream is more intense than anything you’ve ever seen. It hisses like a garden hose as the sound of the impact ricochets around the hollow inside of the jug. “Aaahaaa~” Maple sighs in relief, but it is all but drowned out completely by the cacophony of her pee hitting the surface of the jug. If this occurred during work hours, you were certain that the people seated outside would be able to hear it loud and clear. The jug vibrates intensely, shaking as if it were in the middle of an earthquake. You thought this would be an easy task, but you have to actually actively struggle to keep the jug straight and steady. As the first seconds of her release pass, you notice a clock on the wall. You take a mental note of the time out of sheer curiosity. Moans escape from Maple one after another, increasing in intensity until she’s basically panting like a dog. Thirty seconds pass, and already the bottom of the jug is coated in pee. Maple shows no signs of slowing down – in fact, her stream widens as it picks up the pace. “This is, mmm, amazing,” Maple whispers. “It feels so much better than last time I went. It’s like, doing in front of someone is so much more exhilarating!” Accompanied by the powerful booming drumbeat of her waterfall smashing against the bottom of the jug and the miniature pool of liquid is a long and drawn-out shrill hiss. Its unending shriek prevails above all other noises, similar to the cry of a teapot, but louder. As thirty more seconds pass, and the minute hand ticks forward on the clock, you notice that the jug has become warm and her thighs slick with sweat. You can feel the heat of her syrup from within the jug, and its almost as warm as a hot shower, or a mug of hot cocoa. In fact, as you peer closer at her stream, you notice faint wisps of steam crawling out from under her nether regions. “That’s quite a long pee,” you observe as Maple easily clears the two-minute mark. At this, she giggles, which quickly transforms into a moan. “We’re, huff, just getting started!” Eventually, time seems to drag on. Liquid shoots out of Maple only to be replaced with even more, and even more, and even more. You glance at her stomach, but that small bulge in her bladder has not changed a bit. You start to wonder just where all this is coming from as the sound becomes a constant in your mind. Soon enough, Maple passes the five-minute mark, with the gallon jug halfway full. Maple, with her free hands, suddenly grabs ahold of the sides of your head and pulls you closer to her. She pulls you into her until you’re buried in the wool of her sweater. Close enough that you can feel her heartbeat. The top of your head presses into her breasts as you listen to the rapid thump of her heart. It’s even faster than yours, and still the hissing does not stop. You begin to close your eyes, still feeling the warmth of her bladder pressed against your cheek, her thighs pressed into the back of your hands, and the steaming hot urine inside the container. You begin to relax as a smile forms on your face. For something so perverse, this was unexpectedly wholesome. This whole event is more wholesome than you expected. It is not until you feel the sudden gush of fluid spilling over your hands and dampening your knees that you realize that something’s up. You quickly pull away from Maple only to realize that the container that you had been holding has now completely anchored itself to the ground with its weight and its fullness. Maple has completely filled the gallon jug up to brim and now it’s spilling over. Maple notices this too and stands up in a panic, splashing even more urine all over the floor. “I filled it up? I didn’t think I had that much! I just peed out like, ten gallons a few minutes ago! There’s no way I still have this much left!” While Maple is clutching her crotch, trying desperately to hold it in, you spot another empty gallon jug hidden behind several pots and pans. You claw it out, procuring it in a matter of seconds. Maple performs and awkward little penguin walk as she waddles towards you and crouches in front of you as you slide the jug in between her legs again. Finally free to let loose again, Maple shudders and moans, shaking uncontrollably as her body is racked with the pleasure and force of peeing so intensely. “I’m so glad I get to do this with you. It feels like I’ve been… holding it in… forever. And I don’t mean my pee.” “I get what you mean,” you say. Your hands are getting quite tired after holding the jugs steady for so long, but it’s a comfortable burn. By now you can really start to smell the scent of her urine permeating the entire room. Your hands are sticky as the droplets that landed on them start to evaporate. “By the way, remember how last week you finally got me to drink a little bit with you?” It was a little hard to hear her under the thunderous noise of her stream, which had not died down a bit since she first started, but you nod. “Well, you left without finding out what happened, but it was incredible. You see, I can’t actually pee once on the job. Every single day I work, I hold in my pee from the beginning to end, with no bathroom breaks, ever. One time I couldn’t hold it anymore and just used my indoor privy. I took an entire thirty minutes to finally stop peeing. By the time I got back, I’d just missed thirty minutes of work, and I had a few customers waiting wondering where I was. I couldn’t have that happen again, which is why I always refused you in the past. But last week, I was in the mood and I was curious to see what would happen after I drank…” “The day before, I just emptied my private privy, and so it was dry, clean, and empty. Not a drop of pee left in it. I hadn’t peed at all since last night, so after I drank with you, I was absolutely bursting. The moment I closed up shop, I dashed to the toilet and let loose. I was peeing nonstop for at least an hour, and I filled the entire thing up from bottom to top. In fact, I actually overflowed it and had to grab a couple of bottles from here in order to hold everything. Let me tell you, that was an amazing experience. I just wish you were there.” “That sounds amazing.” “We should totally do that next time,” Maple sighs as the minutes pass onwards. “I wasn’t ready for you this time, but next time you should come back after I’ve got some liquid in me. I’ll show you what it’s like when I overflow toilets~” Maple pauses. “There will be a next time, won’t there?” “Of course!” You nod vigorously, to which Maple brightens immediately. “Oh, wow. You really don’t mind? I was getting into the heat of the moment when I told that story, but you have to realize that that amount of pee is abnormal… you don’t think it’s gross or weird?” “I view it more as a talent,” you reply. “Aww,” Maple says, blushing. A wicked smile starts to spread across her face. “I can’t believe I finally get to share my… talent with someone. You and I are going to have a lot of fun from now on, aren’t we? I’ve already got so many things planned.” You nod once more before realizing that you forgot to look at the clock. Doing so, you realize that a whopping twenty minutes had passed since Maple first started peeing. If she could produce this much on an “empty bladder,” you had no doubt she would be able to surpass an entire hour if she drank enough liquid. You just hoped that you could keep this amazing talent to yourself. Finally, as her urine began to climb towards the very top of the second jug, Maple’s stream finally begins to die down before eventually coming to a stop completely. Maple lets out a huge sigh and lies back, spreading her arms out onto the wooden floor. Her entire body is caked in sweat, and her cheeks have stayed red for an entire twenty minutes. She’s panting heavily, and it’s not hard to hear the excited, aroused thrum of her heart. You give her a moment to catch her breath before putting the caps on both of the filled jugs. Gripped both by the handle, you heave them up off the floor. They’re incredibly heavy, and you struggle a bit, but eventually manage. “That was the best pee I’ve ever had,” Maple moans. She picks herself up and takes one of the jugs, placing them on the table. She pulls out two wooden chairs on opposite sides of the table and beckons for you to have a seat. You do, and she passes one of the jugs to you. “Well, how’s that for some Maple’s Syrup? Think that’s enough to satisfy you?” “For tonight, yes, but I’m going to need more,” you say with a sly grin. “Sounds like a plan,” Maple says before lifting her jug up towards you. “Bottoms up!” You do the same and bump your jugs together as if making a toast. You bring your jug to you, perplexed. “…We’re not going to drink it, are we?” “Why, I thought that’s what you ordered Maple’s Syrup for! It’s a drink on the secret menu, you know.” You give her a look, and she laughs. “Aw, don’t give me that face. Take a sip, trust me. How many drinks have I served you?” Grudgingly, you oblige, only to find that her urine, despite its salty, ammonia smell… tastes smooth, creamy, and sweet? Maple giggles at your face as you hesitantly sip more of her concoction. “You really think I wouldn’t know a spell or two to make drinks taste good? What kind of bartender would I be if I didn’t?” “It tastes almost like… syrupy lemonade,” you say, trying to brush over the fact that you, unlike Maple, have no magical ability. “Well, I don’t call it Maple’s Syrup for nothing!” Maple proudly exclaims. As you take another sip, you realize something. “Wait… you never told me how much this all costs. How can I pay you back?” “Simple,” Maple says, leaning forwards to kiss you full on the lips. With the sweet taste of nectar on both of your tongues, you intertwine them for a few seconds before gradually pulling away. “That is more than enough payment,” she says with a wink. “Make sure to come back next Sunday, okay? I’ll try and plan a few surprises for you. Deal?” “Deal,” you say happily as the two of you spend the rest of the night chatting and flirting over two large jugs of Maple’s Syrup.
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