UrineLover1

Sounds like you had a pleasant day, lol! I know the feeling of looking at the toilet while you are really desperate. It must have felt so naughty to ignore the toilet even though it was right in front of you! It's amazing you were able to type at all while having to pee this badly. Your bladder is certainly distracting, it sounds like! Enjoy your vibrating session and pee when you have to! 🙂

Hi! Great to meet you! I hope you enjoy this site, everyone here is really nice! I fully understand the whole 'it feels so wrong, but so right' thing. I thought the same thing when I first joined. But now, a few months later, I feel at home here and I understand my fetish much better than when I started out. Good luck and enjoy this site! 🙂

Well put! It is hard for us as a fetish community to relate to people without this fetish. Most people view peeing as a normal part of life with no second thought to it. WE are the ones who fixate on it! Nicely put, Jill, very well put! 😊

I guess everyone is different. Some people are comfortable talking about this stuff while others aren’t. Some are comfortable having conversations while going to the bathroom, and others aren’t. Everyone is different! I know that women don’t go to the bathroom JUST to socialize… but I have noticed that men are more likely to go in, do their business, get out while women are more likely to hang out in there, at least at the sink. Then again, I could be wrong about all of this, this is just my opinion based on past experiences. 😊

I would love to be a woman, not indifferently, just for a few hours to know how it feels to have a female urethra and to know how it feels for women to pee. Again, I certainly wouldn’t want to be a woman forever, just a little while so I can understand their anatomy better.

I have this female friend who will literally CALL me on the toilet! I mock her for this thinking it is the strangest thing. While she talks to me, I can hear her stream in the background. I convince myself that she just has a shower running, lol. It is strange and I will never understand this, but I guess some people just don’t care about privacy. That being said, you shouldn’t call someone from a public bathroom! That is rude to the other people in it. This is a good point though. Maybe a reason women take longer in the bathroom is because they are more likely to talk on the phone in there then guys.

I have a physical disability, so I often sit to pee. And while I can stand, it is sometimes more difficult to do. Even in public restrooms, as long as the seat is clean, I will sit on it. I feel bad for women though. Even with my disability, at least I have the option - no matter how difficult it is - to stand and pee. I wish everyone had the ability. It feels like women have it worse in almost every situation and it makes me sad. If only the genders were more equal even in a biological sense. To be fair, however, I have heard that most women don’t mind and don’t really even thing about this unless in the situation or they have a fetish for it.

There were several requests for more male omo. I decided to do the one, the only, Dionysus! The beloved wine god of Greek mythology! And he is joined with his pal and mentor, Silenus the satyr. (For those of you that don't know, satyrs are a race of mythical creatures in Greek mythology. They are human from the waist up and mountain goats from the waist down). Enjoy! 🙂 Also, I know in actual mythology, satyrs are the ones who are more devious, but again, this is basically fan fiction. I decided to make the nature spirits more frisky while Silenus is more civilized. Just my interpretation, obviously I know these stories are not one hundred percent accurate. WARNING... Because we are talking about goat men here, this story includes a little furry content. “Oh, for the gods’ sake, Dionysus, why did you let me drink all of that wine?” Silenus bleated. The satyr gripped his goathood and staggered over tree roots and thorny bushes. “Don’t give me that,” Dionysus had to stop for a moment to tighten his grip on his crotch. “You were enjoying guzzling that wine as much as I was.” “Whatever, I just really need to pee,” the satyr exhaled. “Me too,” the god of wine agreed. The sounds of Dionysus’ rocking party were still heard in the distance. There was the noise of nature spirits getting drunk and chasing each other around the pasture. As the god of diuretic beverages, Dionysus was well used to the feeling of an uncomfortably full bladder. But after having partied for a week straight with no breaks in between, Dionysus’ godly bladder threatened to blow all over the place. Dionysus had no idea how Silenus was holding up. Unlike him, Silenus was a satyr, so his bladder was much, much smaller than the gods. Silenus had tears in his eyes and his face was red. He was trembling from his horns down to his hooves. Dionysus felt bad for his friend and hoped beyond hope that they found a suitable place to alleviate their needs soon. Once the desperate duo were far enough from the party, they decided to let it squirt onto a fine oak tree. Dionysus quickly assumed a position in front of the bark, pulling his throbbing wiener from his purple robes. Silenus being a satyr - and thus half-goat from the waist down and half-human from the waist up - simply stretched his left shaggy goat leg high into the air, prepared to empty his wine onto the gorgeous oak. Before either man could spray his needs away, a female face appeared before the two. The face was carved from oak and rested on the front of the trunk, having appeared out of nowhere. “Hello, boys,” the oak said. Both Dionysus and Silenus jumped. The surprise almost made both men lose their pee. “I am a dryad, a nature spirit of the earth,” the face said. “This is my tree, it is my body. And you were going to relieve yourselves on it?” Dionysus and Silenus glared at one another, both boys hopping from foot to foot (or in Silenus’ case, hoof to hoof). “We,” Dionysus swallowed. “We are sorry ma’am, it is just that my companion and I really need to evacuate our bladders!” The face laughed. “Oh, I am not angry,” she said. “On the contrary, I would love it if two fine gentlemen used me as a makeshift toilet. Go ahead, boys, douse me with your yellow liquid!” The female face shut her eyes, eagerly awaiting Dionysus and Silenus’ bladder juice over her wooden skin. As desperately as they needed to go, Dionysus and Silenus quickly changed their minds about this spot and rushed off. The dryad opened her eyes again. “Wait,” she called. “Where are you going? Don’t you want to piddle on me?!?” The dryad sighed with disappointment, but she was not disappointed for long. A handsome male wandered through the woods, the Fates allowing him to stumble upon the dryad. “Hey, good looking,” the dryad called. “Want to relieve yourself on me?” Dionysus and Silenus each had a tight hold on their genitals as they stomped over the fallen leaves and twigs of the forest. “Note to self,” Silenus cried. “Don’t pee on trees!” “The weirdest part was that she wanted us to do it,” Dionysus pointed out. “Truthfully, I would have felt better off if she just got angry with us and chewed us out. Instead, she was encouraging us!” “Nature spirits are horny creatures,” Silenus muttered. “Satyrs included in that category. Now, Dionysus,” Silenus’ goat legs were twisted. “We must find a place to let go of our golden burdens!” Dionysus’ ear canal filled with the lovely sound of trickling and slashing of water. While his bladder rocked in a fetal position in his abdomen, the lord of wine actually felt hope. As he turned, he found a glorious crystal-clear lake. The waters shimmered from the afternoon sun and the peaceful waterfall added to the picturesque landscape. “Silenus, you thinking what I’m thinking?” Dionysus hunched over, holding his junk with both hands. “Let’s turn that water yellow,” Silenus skipped over the rocks and ran for the lake with Dionysus quickly following behind him. Both guys had bladders that were painfully bouncing around inside them. They each felt extra heavy as they were forced to lug around overly full urinary bladders. Silenus rested one hoof on a large boulder, twisting his body so that his goat penis faced the waters. Dionysus, meanwhile, simply removed his penis from his robes again. As Dionysus held his manhood, he felt the tip of it burn fire hot. His whole shaft ached with pressure, it was so uncomfortable and the god of wine knew he wouldn’t be able to stand the sensation much longer. Thank the gods they didn’t need to. Now that they reached the lake, it was pee time. The two readied themselves to spray. Silenus got only a dribble out and Dionysus hadn’t released a thing when several women - all of whom were sculpted from the waves of the lake - splashed to the surface of the pond. The women known as naiads examined the men. One of the naiads swam to the shore and rested her chin on the strip of land before her. From this angle, she had a perfect view of Dionysus’ ragging penis. “Look at this, ladies,” the naiad who was examining Dionysus’ tool smirked. “Two boys in need of relief. I think we can help them out, don’t you?” The gang of naiads jumped up and down in the water like dolphins skipping on the waves of the sea. The naiads all chanted: “Pee on me!” “No, pee on me!” “Give me a golden shower!” The uncomfortable sensation came back to both Dionysus and Silenus, although, at this point, the uncomfortable sensation was neck and neck with the discomfort they felt down below. Once again, the nature spirits requested golden showers from the god and his satyr friend. The naiad below Dionysus pulled herself up higher and stretched her open hand up towards Dionysus’ exposed phallus. Dionysus quickly pulled away, placing his penis back inside his robes. The naiad was only able to pluck off a single pubic hair from the god’s genitalia. The naiad looked at the curly hair in her watery fingers with dissatisfaction. “Come now,” she begged. “No one has peed in our pond for so long. Please, boys, help us water spirits out!” The entire group of water nymphs wore long pouty faces akin to dog’s when their owners left town. Coming to yet another silent agreement, Dionysus and Silenus packed it up and quickly stampeded away from the lake and the yelping naiads. Once the god and satyr were gone, two dashing men with strong upper bodies crossed the path of the lake filled with female water spirits. “Hey, boys,” the lead naiad did a backstroke in the lake. “By chance, do either one of you gents need a whiz?” Silenus stumbled and tripped over himself after every other step. His belly was bloated and his bladder bump reached so far, Silenus could see his own belly button. He made a fist and rammed it into his goat bits. The pressure in his bladder continued to battle the muscles of his sphincter. Silenus wanted to break down into a fit of tears. His bladder was decent-sized for a satyr, but satyrs reached their limits for faster than the divine gods. As he ran, Dionysus froze in place and turned around to see Silenus who was leaning against a very thin pine tree. Guilt washed over the god of wine. Dionysus remembered how satyr’s bladders have much smaller captivities than his godly one. No matter how much he drank, Silenus must be in double the pain and torment that he was. Dionysus retraced his steps and wrapped an arm around Silenus. With his knees jiggling, Dionysus helped tug Silenus along. Despite the overblown feeling inside his pee pocket, the god of celebration had to support his friend. Silenus’ goat hooves shuffled together, nearly causing him to fall again. Dionysus held the goat man upright and led him away from the trees and into a clearing. “I have to piss so bad, Dionysus,” Silenus whimpered, his hand permanently stuck to his groin. “I can’t take it much longer.” “I know,” the god of wine crossed his legs. “Let’s just go here.” Silenus glared around at the exposed clearing. “There is nothing to hide behind,” the desperate satyr danced around. “Exactly,” Dionysus spat. “No trees, no lakes, no nature spirits! We can pee here and no one will beg us for golden showers!” “I’m starting to think we should have just gone with the golden shower,” Silenus leaned on the strong god, his whole urinary tract exploding with pain. “What if someone sees us?” Silenus may be half-goat, but his logical human brain was more civilized and told him that he and Dionysus should seek out somewhere much more private for such an activity as urination. “No one is here,” Dionysus replied. “It is perfect!” Silenus made to argue, but a sudden wave of urgency nearly knocked him out. Gripping himself with one hand and leaning on the wine god with the other, Silenus scrunched his nose and tensed up his downstairs muscles. “Okay, fine,” the satyr stammered. “I just need to go…” Silenus threw a leg into the air while Dionysus again whipped out his shaking middle leg. Both males bounces and winced, desperation riding through them like hippocampi through the Mediterranean Sea. The two readied their man parts and began to leak. The grass received a few seconds of golden goodness from both god and satyr when they were again interrupted by more feminine voices. Both men cursed and were forced to put their organs away. Worse of all, each time the two had any shred of relief, it only increased their urgency to the max! A group of women lunged across the field and quickly surrounded Dionysus and Silenus like piranhas at feeding time. It was the Maenad, the devoted female followers of Dionysus. A dozen beautiful women gathered around the two men - both in states of bathroom emergency. “Lord Dionysus,” Beta, one of the Maenads yelled. “You left the party. We were looking for you!” “I’m fine, ladies,” Dionysus placed his dominant leg over the submissive one. His hands twitched, wanting to hold his dick, but he somehow restrained. “Silenus and I just needed to…” “Oh, for the love of the gods’,” Silenus was done being patient, he was ready to blow in more ways than one. “Will you people just let us PEEEEE!!!” Silenus did a desperate jig, holding and grabbing, crossing and squeezing. “All we want is to piddle! Is that so much to ask?” The angry satyr snapped. The Maenads frowned and spread looks of concern between one another. The loyal followers to the wine god watched both Dionysus and Silenus squirm and wiggle, urgency rising in each one. Beta faced her fellow Maenad. “Ladies,” she said. “You know what to do.” Without another word, the dozen women split off and formed a ring around Dionysus and Silenus. Each Maenad had her back to Dionysus and Silenus. “What are you girls doing?” Dionysus asked. “Giving you some privacy,” Beta replied without a head turn. “We shall cover you both. Don’t worry, we won’t look. Enjoy the pee.” Dionysus and Silenus stared into one another’s eyes. They couldn’t believe their luck. The kindhearted - and sometimes wild - Maenad women were shielding Dionysus and Silenus from public view. This was good enough for the two bursting men. Silenus again lifted a leg and Dionysus again took out his penis. Both were filled with wine, both needed relief from the pressure. Dionysus’ purple eyes were practically turning yellow at this point. Likewise, Silenus’ cock - which was buried in his goat fur - was constantly expelling droplets. Relief came and both felt loads better. Dionysus shot a powerful rocket of wee from the head of his willy while Silenus’ own parts released a torrent of yellow into the thirsty blades of grass. Silenus couldn’t help but moan out loud. Nothing felt better than a wondrous pee when you needed it. The satyr shut his eyes and imagined his urine levels going down. The inside of his satyr's bladder acted like a whirlpool. Urine swirled around before getting flooded through his urethra and landing into its new home of the woods. Dionysus huffed a big breath, his penis supported with both of his hands. The wine god aimed himself down at a certain patch of grass, allowing the earth to soak in all of his liquid that used to be wine. The bulging bladder of the god began to go down. The Maenads kept their promise of no wandering eyes. The woman all stared straight ahead without speaking or even moving. Other than the Maenad, Foxa scratching her nose at one point, you would have thought the Maenad were statues of Medusa. Dionysus had never been more grateful for his loyal female followers than he was at that moment. The followers of the wine god patiently waited for god and satyr to drain the main veins. No one said a word. The only sound heard through the whole forest was that of urine splashing against grass. Silenus soon dribbled his last drop and rested his hoof back onto the earth’s surface. The satyr was beat red and had sweat racing down his neck, but his bladder was no longer magnified through his skin. Silenus already looked healthier than he had mere moments before. Dionysus was impressed, though. He never expected a mortal (satyrs are included in this category because, unlike gods, satyrs can die) to pass a pee for this long. While Dionysus was still going strong, he was truly mesmerized by how long Silenus relieved himself for. “Feel better?” Dionysus asked his friend, concerned. Silenus gave a shaky nod, too weak to even speak. Dionysus turned his attention back to his firehose of genitals. While the god kept draining his wine, nothing else exciting happened. Apart from a curious dryad attempting to take a peek at the urinating god. “Back off,” Beta held up a tree branch she prepared to use as a weapon. “Let the wine god do his business in peace.” “But maybe I can just watch him go, just for a few seconds,” the dryad tapped her fingers together. All the Maenads had to do was scowl and the wise dryad knew these girls meant business and decided to leave the god of wine to his relief. After a long time, the god’s mighty bladder ran dry. He shook off his penis well, throwing the final drops into the lawn. “Thank you, ladies,” Dionysus again shuffled around, but this time, it was so he could hide his penis back inside his clothing. “I don’t know what we would have done without you.” The Maenads took this as their cue to look at the wine god again. “Anything for you, Lord Dionysus,” Beta gushed. “And you too, Silenus. I'm just glad you boys didn’t wet yourselves!” “It was close,” Silenus admitted. That got some giggles from the Maenads. “As the god of ecstasy, trust me,” Dionysus wiped the sweat from his forehead. “There is nothing better than a relieving pee after many barrels of alcohol.” “For the record,” one of the Maenads named Zina said as the crew began to walk back to Dionysus’ swinging celebration. “It was hard not to look at you guys. I’ve always been fascinated with how guys pee. I mean, I can’t pee like that! It’s kind of fun to watch how guys do it! But don’t worry, I didn’t look. I wanted to, but I didn’t.” Dionysus clapped Zina on the back. “Glad to hear it. Now, let’s head back. Now that our bladders are empty, I think we could refill them with more alcohol!” For Dionysus, the wine god, the alcohol never stops flowing!

Hope you enjoyed! 🙂

Even though I already did Athena, I really liked this idea, so I decided to try it out. This next story is a request, I hope it is enjoyable! And yes, I know Athena is a virgin goddess and would probably not act the way she does in this story. This entire series is basically just fan fiction, lol! Enjoy! 🙂 The war goddess’ head was held back, a large mug of mead clutched in her hand. The alcohol slid down Athena’s throat gulp after gulp. The goddess’ Adam’s apple twitched on her neck as the goddess swallowed down endless amounts of intoxicating beverage. Athena soon finished the goblet and set it down on the table. The goddess subconsciously crossed her legs under the table and with the back of her hand, she wiped the excess alcohol away from her upper lip. “Wow, Athena,” Hephestus said, “you sure know how to drink.” “I’m so proud,” joked Dionysus, god of alcohol. The Olympian gods sat around the table, dining on dinner and enjoying the peace and quiet of a relaxing Olympian supper. Zeus hid a mischievous smile behind his goblet. Athena avoided the supreme god’s gaze. Zeus thought he was clever, he thought he was cunning. Even a blind man such as Tiresious the prophet could see the lustful look in Zeus’ eyes. Zeus had no idea that Athena had seen him slip something devious into her drink. Of course, Athena drank it anyway. She couldn’t have confronted Zeus, she would have looked childish. Rather, Athena kept her pride and drank down the mead, filled to the brim with diuretics. Athena would compose herself and act civilized, showing Zeus that she was much stronger than he thought. As the other gods’ chatted, Athena’s mind wandered. If Zeus would do something like this to her favorite child - and he was not shy about declaring Athena as his favorite - Athena couldn’t imagine how Zeus must treat his many other children. The talking of the other gods’ was drowned out by the constant pang in Athena’s godly bladder. Athena had a strong urge to hold her goddesshood, just for a moment to fight back an upcoming wave. Those diuretics made Athena’s bladder walls tingle like crazy. Athena still had no regrets, she was glad she downed all of that mead. That would show Zeus how much she could take. Still, Athena began to bounce in her seat, her skin prickling with sweat. Athena’s gray eyes moved back and forth, desperately looking for a way out. Yet, she knew she couldn’t leave until the meal concluded. Athena’s prints were digging into her leather seat. The wisdom goddess’ humongous bladder was buzzing with pressure. Worse, Athena tried to recall the last time she visited the little goddess’ room. She and Nike (the victory goddess) had been so busy planning their upcoming battle, Athena has had very little time to take care of her biological needs. And now, with diuretics in place, the bladder of the wisdom goddess felt as if it was a mile underwater. The goddess squirmed and twitched, well aware that the lightning god was glaring at her with excitement. Zeus didn’t even notice the bits of goat meat falling into his beard. Artemis was drowning on, her voice directed to Athena about one of her hunts, but Athena was too distracted to listen. She instead rested her chin in her fist and stared at the exit of the godly dining hall. “Okay,” Hera sipped the last of her own mead. “I believe we have discussed all we need to discuss. Enjoy your evening everyone.” Athena leaped to her feet. Her bladder bounced in her abdomen. Athena could practically feel the ecstasy of relief. The goddess abandoned Artemis - who was still in the middle of her story - and charged down the hall. Athena pushed aside her fellow gods and goddesses, her bladder leading the way, closer and closer to relief. Zeus slowly stood, watching Athena flee from the hall. “Zeus,” Hera’s voice sounded tiny in Zeus’ ear. “I am proud of you. It has been a month since you have lusted after another woman. Not a long time, but I’ll take what I can get. Perhaps you are finally changing your…” “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Zeus brushed Hera away. “I’ll talk later, I have something important to do right now.” Zeus’ desire once again got the best of him. In a flash of lightning, Zeus vanished from the dining area and teleported to the bathroom. Athena threw open the door and slammed it behind her. She tossed her shield and spear to the floor, praying to the gods the restroom floor was freshly cleaned. The goddess danced in place, her hands fumbling over her war skirt. Athena felt the diuretics act like a time bomb in her already-filled bladder. She knew full well that her sphincter was ready to give. Skirt to her knees, Athena dropped down, her ass falling over the open toilet bowl. Athena’s bladder banged inside of her before giving in and spraying the inside of the bowl with yellow. Athena’s breathing was heavy as an all-powerful jet of liquid gold blasted between her legs, turning the inside of the bowl yellow. The pale gold stream hit the water, turning the toilet water frothy. Athena’s head slumped off to the side and crashed against the wall. Athena felt ringing in her war helmet from the impact - although it may have also been caused by the sheer relief of emptying a bursting bladder. Athena’s palm lightly landed on the slowly shrinking bump sticking from her toga. Athena closed her eyes and felt a tear of relief fill her closed eyelid. The goddess’ gray pupils turned foggy as she finally got the relief she had been hoping for for a long time now. Weeks worth of wine, mead, beer, nectar, and water all shot out at once, flooding the inside of the bowl. Athena had never felt anything so wonderful in all of her years. The piss lasted for minutes. Athena had no clue how long she sat there, but it was long enough for pins and needles to creep up her bare buttocks. Athena chewed her lower lip, feeling an orgasm coming on. As one of the virgin goddesses, Athena refuses to succumb to the temptations of Aphrodite and fall in love with a man. That being said, even the wisdom goddess has urges and must satisfy them. Unlike the other Olympians, however, she satisfies them on her own. Athena’s clit suddenly felt hard. She rested her arms on her knees and lowered her head, breathing a big sigh. Athena’s immortal body felt more relaxed than ever as she dribbled the final drops into the bowl. Athena wiped with a piece of old pottery and prepared to stand. Something stopped her, however. Athena’s wise brain was swimming in a sea of pleasure. She felt dizzy, but also deeply aroused. Athena looked around at the empty bathroom. There was no one here but the fly on the wall. With a grin, Athena lowered her hand into the toilet bowl and stretched out two fingers. As soon as Athena’s fingers jammed into her clitoris, the goddess bit back a series of satisfied curses. She twirled and twisted her erect clit, her excitement higher than ever. Athena began to moan. She ran her free hand over her labia lips and dug her fingers deep into her vaginal canal. The wisdom goddess threw her head back, pleasuring herself on the toilet which had the faint smell of pee. Athena was glad she was alone, it would be humiliating if someone saw her - one of the most proper goddesses - doing such an embarrassing act. Athena knew that this was a normal bodily urge, but - similar to urinating - that did not make the act any less uncomfortable to share. Athena began to spin her clit counterclockwise, slow at first, then faster, and faster, and faster. Athena bit her lip so hard, she drew golden ichor (the blood of the gods). Her eyes shut and her mind raced around and around. The orgasm came and Athena nearly shouted with gratification. The goddess then threw herself back onto the bowl, panting and drooling from her mouth. Her body lifted and lowered repeatedly. Her heart hammered and her intelligent gray eyes looked like pebbles by a river. As her breathing steadied, the goddess hummed to herself in joy. Nothing was better after a nice long pee than some masturbation. Nothing in the cosmos could ruin this moment. Athena’s fingers glistened with natural lubricant. Her belly looked normal again. Athena rested for a moment before preparing to rejoin the Greecian world again. Athena’s eyes located the small fruit fly again. The creature just remained seated on the wall. It appeared to be staring down at Athena. Come to think of it, Athena couldn’t recall that fly moving an inch since she entered the bathroom. Perhaps it was deceased. Athena stood, lifted her skirt, and picked up her shield and spear. The one try way to know if the fly still had life in it, was to force it to move. There was only one way Arthena could think to do that. Athena held up the shield, the aegis. Imprinted in the bronze of the shield was the frightening face of Medusa. After the hero Perseus killed the evil gorgon - with some help from Hermes and Athena - Perseus gave the head of the monster to the wisdom goddess. Athena placed the head on her shield and now used it to scare her enemies. She felt bad using it on the fly, but Athena was seriously concerned about the fly’s living status. It was unnatural for any fly to remain in one spot for the amount of time it took a desperate goddess to satisfy her urinary needs. Athena held the aegis to the fly’s face. She could practically see the reflection of Medusa’s face reflect off of the creature’s multi-lensed eyes. The fly leaped from the wall, but to Athena’s surprise, the fly didn’t buzz through the air, instead, it crashed to the floor in the form off… “Zeus?!?” Athena grunted with displeasure. Even the king of the gods was terrified of the hideous face of Medusa. The sky god shielded his eyes from the aegis, scooting himself back into the corner of the bathroom. It was unclear if he was now afraid of Medusa’s face, or of Athena’s hateful stare. The goddess backed Zeus into the corner, her eyes flaming with rage. “You were spying on me using the lavatory?” Athena growled. “You saw me urinate and masturbate…” Athena’s grip tightened on her spear. She was so angry, she dreamt of launching her spear at the disgusting all-father. “Athena, I apologize,” Zeus trembled. “I could not resist…” “You fed me diuretics, you spied on me relieving myself… in more ways than one!” Athena considered all of the ways she might attack Zeus. According to Gaia’s prophecy many years ago, Athena and Zeus were equal in power and strength. Athena was certain that she was one of the few immortal beings who could confront Zeus and live to tell the tall… If she wished to, that is. “What will you do?” Zeus demanded, his voice shaking ever so slightly, like the rumbling of thunder. Athena smirked. “I shall not do anything. I cannot imagine a punishment worse than telling your wife about this.” Zeus felt as though he would black out. He knew Hera would destroy him should this news reach her. “Athena, please,” Zeus murmured. “Let us discuss this…” Instead, Athena vanished from sight, leaving Zeus alone on the empty bathroom floor. Only seconds after, all of Mount Olympus trembled with Hera’s violent outcry. “ZEEEUUUUUUSS!!!!” Hera’s voice bellowed across the giant palace. Zeus swallowed. He was once again in the dog house.

Next I wrote a story about Haumea the Hawaiian goddess of fertility and childbirth: Haumea pushed past a bushy fern. The goddess stumbled forward. Her long green dress, the color of the forest, was dripping wet from rainwater. The sensation not only made Haumea cold, but sparked her need to pee. Haumea wished she had been smart enough to go before leaving Nuumealani the land of the gods. She assumed she would just pop down to earth for a quick trip. Naturally, however, luck was not on the Hawaiian goddess’ side. Haumea hissed through her teeth. Battling against her bladder’s weight, she forced herself forward. Haumea carefully stepped over the upturned tree roots and large rocks. At one point, her dress snagged on a tree branch. Cursing to herself, Haumea tugged with all her might on her trapped garment. “Oh, come on,” Haumea gritted. Her dress snapped free and slapped Haumea in her soggy face. The goddess of childbirth stumbled backward and found herself falling over a rock. Haumea let out a monster-sized bellow as she hit the ground. While the pain wasn’t too bad, the fall itself sent shock waves of pressure into Haumea’s pelvis. What had started as an uncomfortably full bladder was now an agonizing stomach filled with water cramps. Haumea’s hands laced around her genitals. The goddess of childbirth just lay on the forest floor, her ear digging into the dirt. Her sweaty hair was dripping in her face like a wet carpet. Haumea just lay on her side, her hands stuck between her closed-off thighs. Haumea moaned from her position on the ground. Never in her immortal life has she had to pee so desperately. While she knew it wasn’t right, Haumea partially blamed her husband, Kanoloa. The god of the sea and the underworld challenged his wife to a kava drinking contest. The couple chugged down glass after glass of kava drink. Haumea recalled going into said contest with an already sloshy bladder feeling. While the kava drink is non-alcoholic, it does have many similar side effects to alcohol including a boost in mood and diuretic properties. Worse yet, after kava wears off, one is left to deal with the consequences of their actions. Now, like many before her, Haumea was truly paying the price for indulging in so many alcohol-like drinks. Haumea just wanted to stay where she was, bury herself in the ground, and remain there sobbing for the rest of the time. But the logical side of her brain - which grew thinner the longer she held - knew that her problem would not be solved through tears. Haumea was almost to the rainbow bridge. Just a little farther and she would be free to use her at-home chamber pot. Haumea grasped a tree trunk and used it to pull herself up. Her legs remained tied the whole way, making her balance extra unsteady. The goddess of childbirth kept both hands against her vulva while she hobbled forward. Haumea reminded herself that she was nearly out of the forest, just a little more to go. Haumea angrily swished her head to the side, causing her wet locks of curly hair to flap away from her face and land over her shoulder. Haumea feared making any sharp movements, knowing they would pop her bladder. But try as she might, she could not, for the life of her find a straight line to walk in. The lovely Hawaiian goddess floundered around worse than a newbie learning how to surf. Haumea had to blink her eyes extra hard to remove the drips of rainwater falling into them. What a terrible day! First, Haumea discovers that her beautiful singing tree is gone and then she gets stuck in a rainstorm! Haumea still remembered the day Muleiula gave her the tree with the singing blossoms. The mortal, Muleiula had been so grateful that Haumea taught her how to give birth naturally, she gifted Haumea with the beautiful singing tree. The flowers sang such a sweet melody. Unfortunately, as Haumea brought the tree back to the realm of the gods, she stopped to take a drink. Upon setting the tree down, its roots grew in the soil and it was unable to be removed. So, Haumea just built a wall around the tree to protect it. Now, some damn tree cutter broke the wall and chopped down the tree. The tree was swept away downriver and was lost for good. It was exactly stupid things like this that made Haumea tempted to dry up the human’s food sources and allow them to starve. Humans can’t leave anything alone, can they? As if losing her precious tree wasn’t bad enough, Haumea ended up caught in the very same storm that washed her darling tree away. Now, her outfit sagged and sloshed with each step she took. Her hair was dripping and her skin was coated in rivers of rainwater. Haumea foolishly replayed the massive storm in her mind. The very idea of a torrential downpour was enough to make Haumea subconsciously close down her sphincter even tighter. Each step felt like a marathon. Haumea’s need for the bathroom outweighed any other thought she could possibly possess at that moment. Haumea desired nothing more than to squat over her tower-sized chamber pot and let go of all she held. Such a relief it would be to gush out dozens of pent-up kavas. Haumea could feel her bladder pound like a racing heartbeat more and more with each step she took. Leaning against a tree for support, Haumea had to take a break. Her bladder was so heavy, just escorting it around took strength that the childbirth goddess no longer had. Haumea let out a sound halfway between a sniffle and a gasp. Placing her head against the rough bark, she knew she would have to come up with a new plan as this current one clearly wasn't working. After a moment’s pause, Haumea developed an idea. It was a long shot, but sensing she was running out of time, she decided to go for it. Haumea reached into the front of her dress. Lodged neatly in the cleavage of her bosom, was her wand, Makalei. Removing her wand, Haumea waved it over herself. Sparks came from Makalei’s tip and Haumea found that her arms shrank down and burst into feathers. Her head became much smaller and a tail sprouted from her backside. Her toes wedged together and her nose popped outward. Haumea the Hawaiian goddess of childbirth was now a small nene bird. Haumea’s vision split in half. She felt even more unstable than in human form. But this guise gave her the ability of flight which was something that the childbirth goddess badly needed right about now. Haumea sure did love her magical shape-shifting wand! Now that Haumea was in bird form, there was no time to lose! Haumea spread her newfound wings and kicked off of the earth. Haumea flapped her feathery wings, gliding along the upper canopy of kapok trees. The goddess of childbirth soared across the skies, weaving in and out of branches. She shot through the air as fast as her wings would allow. The only issue was, now that Haumea was a small bird, her bladder was even more restricted than before. Shape-shifting is always a bit odd in different situations. The interesting thing about birds is that they don’t have urinary bladders. Normally, shapeshifting from animal to animal or plant to plant allows Haumea to possess all of that organism’s characteristics, internal and external. Whenever Haumea shapeshifts on an empty bladder, she is perfectly fine in the new form she takes. But whenever she transforms on a ragging full bladder, all of her stored urine must go somewhere. Normally, if Haumea shape-shifted into a bird, she would end up excreting urine involuntarily. Seeing as this would defeat the purpose, Haumea instead allowed herself to keep her full bladder. As much as she was dying to get rid of it, she didn’t want to piss all over the place with zero control. Again, that would defeat the purpose of flying home as a nene bird. So, Haumea silently asked Makalei to let her keep her rock-hard urine storage tank. Haumea zipped across the tree line. Now that she was a bird and thus smaller, her ginormous bladder stuck right out of her stomach. Hanging several inches lower than her face, Haumea could feel her bladder burning with a golden vengeance. The bulge was boiling hot and even itchy. Haumea could feel her monstrous pee sack drag her toward the ground. The whole reason birds lacked bladders was so they could be lighter and fly around more efficiently. But Haumea the bird was still stuck with her bladder which acted as nothing more than a dead weight. Haumea felt herself getting pulled by gravity toward the ground. Inisalty, Haumea had a nice boost of excitement which guided her closer to the restroom. Now, after flying for a few moments, Haumea found that she was once again in heavy discomfort. Her bladder was so full, it was like lugging around fifty pounds of pig meat with your pinky fingers. Haumea’s bladder constantly tugged her toward the earth. No matter how hard she fought, the thing was just way too heavy to keep afloat. Pressure curled inside Haumea’s brittle bird body. A particularly tasty stab of pressure jolted Haumea into a frenzy. Shutting her eyes in a deep grimace, Haumea noticed the tree branch too late. Smashing into a tree branch, Haumea was thrown off course and found herself flailing over the mix of trees and crashing down into the beach. Buried in the sand, Haumea’s bladder gave an extra sharp twinge, as it severely despised that crash landing. Haumea’s urinary needs skyrocketed as her body struggled to recover from the fall. The goddess of childbirth pulled herself from the sand. Realizing her birdie bladder bulge was far too tedious to take care of, she shapeshifted back into the lovely goddess, Haumea. Haumea had sand in her eyes from the fall. Her eyes watered from this and also desperation pains. Haumea was so weak, she could hardly stand. So many kava drinks were inching their way closer and closer to freedom. Haumea kept her legs tied into a series of elaborate knots. Her breathing was shaky and her head drummed in her skull. Haumea’s bladder banged in her stomach. Haumea looked with tired eyes to the wonderful sight of the rainbow bridge. The godly bridge made of pure rainbow rested in the sands of the island. Sitting at the end of the rainbow was a large canoe which Haumea took here. Now all that was left was to climb into her canoe, row back up the rainbow bridge, and rush to her cottage, preferably before spurting her non-alcoholic urine all over Nuumealani and/or the rainbow bridge and/or her canoe. Haumea lifted a trembling foot. As she did so, water pressure as heavy as a coconut clobbered her sphincter, preparing to dislodge it. Haumea’s fingers curled in spikes around her privates. Her hands stood side by side, squeezing her crotch harder than the jealous Pele holds onto her lovers. Haumea’s whole body trembled as if she was caught in an earthquake. Unable to help herself, Haumea’s twitching urine hole opened and a squirt of blazing hot liquid launched itself from her labia and damped the back of her dress. Hissing through her teeth, Haumea managed to close herself off. Instantly, however, a second jet gushed out. The urine fired backward, causing the butt of Haumea’s lovely green dress to grow a dark, wet patch. Urine oozed down the childbirth goddess’ legs. Haumea’s lower half dripped in bladder discharge. The desperate goddess yelped loudly as another squirt escaped and soaked the back of her dress further. The accident was starting. No way in the underworld could Hauma hold a second more, let alone the rest of the way home. Haumea scanned the area. Sprinting behind a bush of bright pink plumeria flowers, Haumea threw her dress up. Another blast of fiery warm tinkle sped down her legs. Haumea hissed again. She looked around once, twice, no one was around. Haumea’s rear flew to the earth. The fertility goddess squatted over the ground just as the final eruption occurred. Squatting behind the shrub, Haumea instantly realized that she should have done this ages ago! Haumea felt herself squeal of delight. As her muscles unclenched and her pee tube became flooded, urine shot from her pussy lips into the grass. The goddess of childbirth placed her fingers on either side of her face and tugged, pulling on her skin, not knowing what to make of the pleasure her lower half was currently experiencing. Haumea felt as if some small animal was tearing her urethral opening apart. The urine was hotter than all the sand of the islands. Haumea found her teeth sinking into her lower lips as she held back a series of curses. The goddess of childbirth had never been so relieved to feel such blazing hot urine charge out of her labia at such a powerful force. After being silenced for so long, her urine was flaming warm. The feeling of it spraying past her labia and into the sands below made Haumea’s heart rate and breathing compete in a race. Haumea’s immortal body soon calmed down as she grew accustomed to the sensation of bodily water fleeing from her vulva. As a goddess associated with the earth, Haumea hadn’t a clue as to why she kept her urine bottled up so long. It would have been one thing if she was indoors or around people, but Haumea had been outside in the forest. Why hadn’t she let go miles back? Haumea’s hair was still dripping. The back of her dress was damp from the urine she accidentally released. Haumea hasn’t felt this splendid since she birthed her children. (Of course, Haumea gave birth to her children from various parts of her body. Pele came from her armpit, Kapo her eyes, Kamohoali'i her head, Paupauo from her shoulder, Nāmaka her thigh, Hi’iaka her mouth, etc). Haumea wasn’t used to releasing something so massive from her lady bits. Haumea had never once given birth to a child from her vagina region, she wasn’t used to her labia having such a draining task. And all this rush of fluid certainly did make Haumea rather sleepy. Once she arrived back at Nuumealani she would crash onto her bed and sleep for the gods’ know how long! Until then, her first project was finishing this urination. No matter how long she squatted, the goddess of childbirth’s labia continued to hiss out the yellow liquid. While the mainstream of pee came from her urethral opening, little dribbles of tinkle dripped from the areas surrounding said urine hole. Haumea’s soggy dress clung to her back as she lifted it above her downstairs area. Haumea looked down at her progress. Her bladder bulge was going down. All she could see was a colossal stream spewing from under her vulva which was as hairy as the forest. The goddess of childbirth looked to the heavens and breathed. Her urine continued to run. The sands below Haumea’s pointed feet had turned to mud and the goddess now had crunchy sand/mud climbing up her feet. The sand was now wet and hot. Haumea had been squatting for so long at this point that her lower half had fallen asleep. Her body was cramping from being so hunched over. Still, Haumea’s kava drinks were draining. While they emerged from Haumea’s pussy rather swiftly, there was far too much fluid in her giant goddess bladder to ever drain efficiently. After much time squatting and squirting behind the shelter of a shrub, Haumea decided that she had taken enough pressure off and she would be able to make it home before she gained a second wind. In fact, Haumea drained so much fluid that she could probably hold the rest for another couple of weeks if need be. Now that her urinary bladder had more room to fill back up, that is. Haumea closed down her pee hole, zipping up her sphincter muscles, and silencing the flow yet again. As Haumea stood and dropped her urine-stained dress, her legs wobbled after squatting in the sand for so long. After gushing like a geyser for several minutes, Haumea’s bladder - while still full - was much better than it had been. Haumea had a medium urge to micturate now and she could easily make it home to do so. Still having a half-filled up tank of urine, Haumea stepped around the bush and reached her boat, resting at the foot of the rainbow bridge. Right before Haumea could step inside, she heard a rustling. But this rustling sounded more like someone was crunching on sand. Looking forward, Haumea spotted two people - man and woman - crouching behind a very tall palm tree. The man’s head was placed over the woman’s and both stared at Haumea, peeking out from their cover of the palm tree. Haumea was never a goddess to run away from these types of problems. Instead, she placed her hands firmly on her hips and called, “Enjoy the show?” The two perverts slowly stepped out of hiding, realizing they were spotted. “Sorry, ma’am,” the woman apologized. “We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, honest. But we noticed how long you were peeing and…” “You decided to spy on me?” Haumea asked. “No, no! We were just impressed, that’s all,” the man insisted. “Humph,” Haumea scoffed. “Well, maybe you should think twice before snooping on a goddess’ private bathroom time.” The duo stood back, hands in front of them in self-defense. Even though she disguised it, Haumea took great satisfaction in watching the horrible realization sink into these two creeps. The woman began, “You’re a godde…” She didn’t have time to finish the question because with a single snap of her fingers, Haumea turned man and woman into twin breadfruit trees. As her sacred tree, it seemed appropriate. That out of the way, Haumea mounted her canoe and began to row her way up the rainbow bridge toward the godly heavens. Time to go home, finish relieving herself, and take that well-deserved nap. Even if Haumea lost her lovely singing blossom tree, at least she had the opportunity to take an otherworldly urination! A pee fit for the Hawaiian goddess of childbirth!

I think the most common response was c, so here is a story of the Greek Amazon warriors, Otrera and Hippolyta. Otrera and her daughter, Hippolyta, rushed through the swamp. The two large Amazonian women charged through the brush, their arrows notched in bows and spears swinging wildly. Their armor clanged against their shins. Hippolyta kept her legs as close together as possible, bringing them side by side whenever feasible. Hippolyta would die of shame if she ever admitted this, but the gallons of water she chugged earlier were ready to make their way back into the world in their new form. And the tight war pants she was wearing did not help matters. Hippolyta could feel the heavy water balloon drag on the ground behind her, getting restricted by her intense armor. Her bladder had spent the past twelve hours getting pumped with water and now it demanded attention. But Hippolyta could not share this information to her mother or fellow warriors without seeming weak. Otrera, meanwhile, was sharing a much similar dilemma as her daughter. Otrera was also carrying around a bladder that was swollen far past its limit. It wasn’t easy being Queen of the Amazons, everyone always wanted something from you. Whenever Otrera thought she had the chance to get some relief, one of her Amazons was always there to request something. Be it sharpening a knife or leading an assault on a powerful attacking beast. Otrera hasn’t had the opportunity to pee since last night. And even then, she passed it up for the choice to sleep instead. Otrera woke up in the middle of the night with a screaming deaf bladder, but she ignored it and continued to snore. Now, after hours of neglect, her bladder was sending urgent signals to the Queen of the Amazon’s brain. A little-known fact about the Amazons. While it is true that they valued strength and bravery and all of that other stuff, another more hidden skill the Amazons valued was urinary abilities. The Amazons believed that the act of holding your pee took strength just as much as weight lifting or bench pressing. For an Amazon to state her urgent need to urinate, was a violation of strength. Amazons would sit around a water cooler, downing goblet after goblet and share with each other how long it has been since they last visited the chamber pot. Their fellow Amazons would ohh and ahh as they heard about the lengths to which their fellows would go to to control their waters. There was nothing more embarrassing to an Amazon than to state they were desperate for a wee. Neither Hippolyta nor Otrera would dare mention an urgent need for the restroom. If either woman did speak of their needs, it would be followed by how long it had been since they last went. Still, between the bouncing around and the tight armor, Hippolyta felt ready to blow. But she couldn’t. Having an accident was the ultimate form of embarrassment with the Amazons. It was like shouting, ‘Hey, everyone! Look at me! I’m too weak to hold my pee!’ Hippolyta was not weak! She would hold! Amazons fired arrows up into the treetops. Out of the trees feel deceased birds with razor-sharp beaks. The Stymphalian birds - the same ones Heracles faced in one of his twelve mighty labors - came tumbling from the canopy, dead before even striking the ground. The beasts had come far too close to Amazon territory. It was time for them to meet their match! Amazons shot rounds of arrows, and chucked volleys of spears. Bird after bird faced Thanatos [god of death]. The Amazon’s rejoiced. The Stymphalian birds were vanquished. After collecting many of the bodies, it was almost time to head home. But there was one pit stop to make along the way. (And much to Ortera and Hippolyta’s dismay) it was not a restroom. The Amazons trudged up many mountains and hills. The walk was long and very hot. Naturally, they were forced to consume water. The Amazons drank and laughed with one another, joking around as a way to make the lengthy journey more bearable. Otrera did an excellent job of masking her desperation. The current Amazon queen joined in and joked around with her fellow Amazon warriors. Hippolyta on the other hand was struggling far worse than her mother. Hippolyta constantly held gentle hands over her bulge. Her hands explored her swollen stomach. She breathed in and out, feeling the internal pressure rise. Hippolyta carefully lifted her belt off of her waist and moved it around, trying to make it even slightly more tolerable. One of the Amazons asked Hippolyta what was wrong. Hippolyta lied and told everyone that she was sweltering under her uniform. All that lie did was earn Hippolyta some more water to guzzle. Having extra water flowing through her system, Hippolyta felt as though her insides were drowning under the sea. But she continued to refuse to say anything. Now, Hippolyta hobbled across the terrain with her knees glued together. Hippolyta wanted so badly to give herself a nice squeeze. Just one to help her make it the rest of the way. But so much as a single scratch would be a sign of weakness. It was difficult enough to walk as it was. Hippolyta didn’t need to send her crew any more signals of her growing desperation. Every time they passed a bush or a boulder or a nice thick tree trunk, Hippolyta’s bladder facepalmed. The reason being is how wild and outdoorsy the Amazons are. Sure, they did use chamber pots back at camp, but here in the wilderness, they are skilled at urinating outdoors. Every single hidden area they passed seemed to call to Hippolyta, enticing her to visit for a quick bathroom break. Otrera was also suffering. Not nearly as much as her daughter, but the queen’s bladder was quite full as well. Otrera was mostly able to distract herself with conversation. (Although she restrained herself from laughter). This made her warriors curious, asking why she refused to laugh. Otrera, being as blunt as ever, simply told them that their jokes weren’t funny. Otrera - unlike Hippolyta - was still walking okay. But she knew that wouldn’t last for long. As the queen of the Amazons, Otrera could call out a bathroom break whenever she wished. But knowing her gang, they would likely refuse such a thing. The Amazons saw bathroom breaks as futile. The Amazon’s had nearly limitless bladder captivities. (Not nearly as much as the divine), but their bladders were giant nonetheless. No matter how long the journey was, no matter how much they drank, the Amazons were most likely to turn down a single bathroom break. Accepting such a proposition was one of the most humiliating things an Amazon could do. Even if someone in the group was bursting, they would be far too proud to admit it. After much traveling, the Amazons finally reached their destination. Standing before them was a giant camp. Tents were set up and fireplaces were cooking meat. In front of the camp was a group of men, ready to welcome the women to their camp. It was the Gargarean men. The exact opposite of the Amazons, the Gargareans were an all-male tribe. Many would speculate that a group of all women and a group of all men would be at constant war. On the contrary, the Amazons and Gargareans got along fabulously. They had several arrangements. One, they traded with one another on a daily basis, gifting each other with supplies. Two, once a year, the Gargarean men would impregnate the Amazons, so each civilization would have a new generation. This worked out well. Instead of keeping their sons as slaves or abandoning them in the wild (which many Amazons still did), they could instead send them to the Gargareans to be raised. It was very rare that the Amazons had offspring without the Gargareans. But it did happen, as was the case with Hippolyta’s son. Hippolyta, the Amazon princess fell in love with the hero Theseus and with him, she gave birth to a son named Hippolytus. (He was named after his mother, of course!) Hippolytus was now a proud hunter of Artemis. Hippolytus was one of the only two male hunters of the goddess Artemis. Hippolytus swore to a life of chastity alongside Artemis and his new hunting sisters. Hippolyta could not be more proud of her son! “Queen Otrera,” King Cobon of the Gargarean tribe addressed. Otrera extended her arms. “King Cobon,” she gushed. The two leaders pulled one another into a tight hug, slapping the other on the back in praise. Otrera could feel her boiling bladder bury itself in Cobon’s abs. Pulling away before her urge grew out of control, Otrera said, “We gathered the Styphalian birds I mentioned in my message.” Otrera’s warriors presented the Stymphalian bird carcasses. “Very nice,” Cobon admired one of the dead birds. “My men love bird meat. And in exchange, we have new war helmets for all of your women gifted to us by Hephetesus himself.” Cobon’s men came forward and passed out a sparkling new war helmet to each of the Amazons. The helmets were engraved with images of war and battle. The Amazons could feel the might of the metal gleam off of the gold. “Do you wish to stay?” Cobon motioned to some nearby tents. “We were just about to serve dinner.” “No, no thank you,” Otrera blurted out. “Too… Too early for dinner. We don’t eat until six.” “Are you sure?” Cobon asked. “Seems like a shame to travel all the way out here for a quick two-minute trade.” “We enjoy walking,” Otrera regretted sounding a bit nasty in her tone. As grateful as Otrera was for Cobon’s hospitality to her and her people, all the queen of the Amazons cared about was getting home to her chamber pot. As much as she loved to squat in the wilderness, Otrera hated it when her Amazons knew she was urinating. One thing chamber pots had over public urination was that no one knew you were doing it. “Thank you very much, Cobon,” Otrera tried to rush along the exchange. “But we must get going.” “I don’t know, I’m kinda hungry,” one of the Amazons patted her stomach. “Not my problem, Thoё,” Otrera snapped. Then she signaled for her Amazons to move out. “Can we at least offer you some water?” Cobon insisted. “It is a long way and it’s awfully hot out…” “No!” Upon seeing Cobon jump back in alarm, Otrera quickly steadied herself. “No, no thank you… We have w… What you said,” Otrera swallowed down the dastardly word. “Let’s go, ladies.” And the Amazons began their return journey home. The trip back was even more devastating for the bursting full mother and daughter bladder duo. Hippolyta was walking with a limp. Her leg was constantly wrapping around the other or pressing into her crotch. Hippolyta grabbed her crotch at one point. As shameful as the act was, Hippolyta was about to spurt if she didn’t. Unfortunately for her, her fellow Amazons noticed this. “Hippolyta, have to pee?” Crias asked. The Amazons giggled, never having seen such an embarrassing display of desperation. Hippolyta turned fuschia. “N… No,” he voice cracked. “You do!” Rhene cried. “You look ready to explode! How old are you, girl?” “I’ve been holding for sixteen hours now and you don’t see me grasping my crotch, do you?” Anysia stated. “Sixteen hours? That’s nothing. I haven’t pissed in over twenty hours,” Alcippe mentioned. “Twenty-two hours over here,” Thoё pointed to herself. “And I’m still going strong!” Hippolyta had no idea how these ladies could possibly hold themselves for so long and not even have to grab themselves or squirm even a little. They all looked perfectly fine and content. But that was the way of the Amazons. Even with gallons of water to drink, they just held everything nicely. It was one of the things Amazons were trained from birth. They were taught from an early age how to properly hold their bladder. The Amazons laughed and poked fun at Hippolyta’s desperate situation. “Don’t think of running water, Hippolyta. Pisssss…” Rhene sounded. “Just do a potty dance like the tiny-bladdered warrior you are,” Anysia mocked by holding her genitalia and hopping around like a three-legged frog. The Amazons burst with laughter. “I DON’T HAVE TO PEE!” Hippolyta erupted, tears streaming down her face. It was beyond humiliating to have the squad witness such a weak state. “Then why are you shouting?”Alcippe pointed at Hippolyta. “You have to pee bad!” “Can you hold it?” Crias teased. “Need a break like one of those weak-bladdered women in society?” “I… I don’t…” Hippolyta was in full on tears now. “Oh, yeah, just cry. That’s womanly of you,” Anysia taunted. “Just cause your bladder’s the size of an acorn doesn’t mean…” “That’s enough,” Otrera snapped. Otrera suspected her daughter needed the restroom for a while now and after that small display, Otrera’s hypothesis was confirmed as fact. At least she wasn’t the only one whose bladder was bursting at the seams. The Amazons traveled in silence the rest of the way. They reached their camp shortly after dinnertime. “Going to powder your nose, Hippolyta?” Rhene giggled. The Amazons laughed as Hippolyta raced to her and Otrera’s tent. Otrera followed causally behind. Hippolyta sped past the rocky and barren landscape, hands shoved down her war skirt. Hippolyta could feel herself leaking along the way. She rushed past two glorious temples. The one on the left was dedicated to Ares and the one on the right to Artemis. The god of war and the feminine goddess were the two gods who the Amazons worshiped the most. Partly because Ares was the father to many of the Amazons - including Hippolyta herself - and Artemis was the patron for women and protected them. Hippolyta made a habit every time she passed these temples to stop and pray to the two gods. Especially her father, Ares. But Hippolyta’s bladder was swollen to the size of a sea serpent’s eyeball. She knew her father and Artemis would understand, but she had to drain herself right away! Hippolyta was tempted just to go behind a rock and do her business. But if someone saw her, they would immediately tell everyone that Hippolyta couldn’t control herself long enough to reach the salvation of her own chamber pot. Hippolyta was already a laughing stock for just holding herself. Imagine if she used a rock. Imagine if she wet… She could never show her face among the Amazons ever again! Hippolyta dashed into the tent she shared with her mother. Hippolyta quickly got to all fours and peered under her mother’s bed. Hippolyta wiggled from side to side. Her hand was stuffed underneath the bed. Feeling around, she grasped a handle and yanked out… The chamber pot! A glorious pot decorated with jewels. A chamber pot fit for a princess! Hippolyta quickly began to strip herself of armor. She tossed away the belt and the skirt. She left on the chest plate sense it was far enough away from her pussy so as not to pose any problems. As Hippolyta readied herself, she cursed out the women who mocked her. Sure, the Amazons may be tough and strong and have high limits, but unlike the gods, the Amazons were human. Or at the most, demigoddesses, like Hippolyta. Either way, they did have limits! Even the gods themselves had to pee every now and then. So, why was everyone so harsh on Hippolyta when she felt full of wee? Hippolyta was just lucky that her mother was there to defend her and… Her mother. Hippolyta was now forced to squeeze every muscle she had to keep her pee hole sealed tight. Looking out between the flaps of her tent, Hippolyta saw her mother casually walking towards her. Hippolyta was far from foolish. She knew her mother also needed a leak, even if she wouldn’t admit it, even if she didn’t show it. Why else would Otrera be on her way to the tent rather than supper. Hippolyta grunted, but she had to do the right thing. Removing the gorgeous pot from her crotch, and shoving her knee back up her clamped-down pussy, Hippolyta waited for her mother to enter the tent. Otrera looked on at her daughter naked from the waist down with a chamber pot in her hands and her knee up her womanhood. “Mom, you can go first,” Hippolyta moaned. It took all the strength she had, but she forced herself to hand the pot over. “Oh, no, no, no, sweetie, I can hold it,” Otrera folded her arms. “You go right ahead.” Just like the other Amazons, Otrera showed zero signs of needing the restroom. But that didn’t mean she didn’t need to go! Otrera’s bladder resembled a giant naval battle. There were tidal waves and rain pelting the rising sea. Piss sloshed against the bladder walls, spinning around and around in its own mini whirlpool. Otrera felt an intense pressure below her navel that told her she had very little time to relieve herself. But Otrera was an Amazon. The queen no less. She was more than capable of holding herself without the use of hands or crossed legs. Otrera held with nothing but her pelvic floor muscles. Otrera knew her daughter was in much greater danger of exploding than she was. Otrera was more than willing to stand back and wait her turn. The Amazons - while outdoorsy - didn’t make a big habit of peeing outside their tents while in camp. Peeing outside was usually a ‘no better option’ type of thing. While Otrera technically could exit the tent to urinate somewhere else, for similar reasons to her daughter, she would rather use the chamber pot in this particular instance. Hippolyta felt her chest heat up, gratitude towards her mother filled her entire form. Hippolyta was only more willing to allow her mother to go first now. But after feeling a powerful pang from her sphincter dam, Hippolyta knew she had run out of time! Hippolyta tore her legs from one another and the moment she did so, a rapid gush emerged from her sweating vulva. Hippolyta just managed to push the pot beneath her in time. The first small trickle rolled down the side of the chamber pot and landed on the floor. The rest of the floor splashed down in the chamber pot. The sound hissed all around the Amazon kingdom. Nearly clear waste flooded the sides of the bowl, filling it rapidly. While the mainstream fired from her pee hole, there was a much smaller stream that trickled down the side of her vulva and then fell from Hippolyta’s anus area. One mainstream and a much weaker stream paraded into the dish, causing it to grow in weight. “That’s an awful lot of pee,” Otrera noted, unable to take her eyes off of her daughter’s spray. The noise and the sight made Otrera’s bladder quiver, but the Amazon queen still had enough discipline not to hold or even squirm. No matter how bad the urge got, Queen Otrera just stood there with hands to her sides and legs an appropriate distance apart. Hippolyta’s lake was nearing the top of the chamber pot. “You might have to stop, dear,” Otrera said matter-of-factly. Hippolyta quickly tensed her muscles, sealing off her urine tube. Just in time as well. Just a few more ounces and the chamber pot would run all over the place. “M… Mom…” Hippolyta managed. “I got it,” Otrera took the heavy pan from her daughter. The pot weighed more than a newborn mule. But Otrera managed to keep a tight hold of it, her daughter’s yellow urine sloshing between the sides. Otrera stepped outside of the tent and dumped the piss to the floor. The urine splashed down and dissolved below the cracky rock ground. The noise of urine meeting rock was enough to make Otrera ready to gush herself. But she held back and reentered the tent. “Do you have more?” She asked her daughter. Hippolyta’s vagina dripping urine, the Amazon princess nodded. “A lot,” she admitted, shyly. Otrera handed her daughter back the pot. “I went enough mom,” Hippolyta held up her hand. “I got the initial pressure off. I can hold now. You go.” Otrera pursed her lips. “How about we take turns?” Hippolyta nodded. “That sounds fair.” Hippolyta held the damp chamber pot - which sported droplets of urine along its walls - while Otrera got undressed from the waist down. Otrera took the chamber pot and placed it in between her thighs. A powerfully thick spray of tinkle rained down from Otrera’s labia and cruised down into the container. Urine spewed from Otrera’s pussy. Her stream was a lot neater than her daughter’s. It was just a solid stream with a few drips here and there. Yellow urine slowly filled the vessel. Otrera’s stream was very powerful, but slower than that of her daughter. Hippolyta stood back patiently. While it was true that her bladder was much more relaxed after that initial explosion, after watching her mother make a stream, Hippolyta found her knees jiggling up and down. She had too much pride to use her hands, but her legs were indeed dancing. Hippolyta hoped her mom would finish soon so it could be her turn again. Otrera knew right away that just like Hippolyta, she would fill up more than one of these. Otrera also could sense how restless Hippolyta was getting. Otrera tried to push, so she could pee faster and thus give her desperate daughter her turn again. Soon enough, Otrera’s wee was foaming across the surface of the pot. There was even a deep yellow swirl across the face of the yellow pond. Otrera dumped her foamy urine outside the tent. Reentering, she passed the pot back to Hippolyta. Mother and daughter took turns draining themselves. For every chamber pot they peed, they felt waves better. Hippolyta ended up urinating three and a half half a liter bowls while her mother pissed five bowls. The two Amazons were exhausted after an exquisite micturition like that. The duo put the dripping chamber pot away and redressed. “Mom,” Hippolyta grabbed her mother’s elbow. “Can… Can you please not mention how desperate I was to the others?” Otrera saw how embarrassed her daughter was and how much this secret meant to her. Otrera herself understood. The Amazons could be brutal with their teasing. And when one of them grew desperate to pee - as rare as that was - the woman became a laughingstock of the entire Amazon community. Otrera took off her war helmet and allowed her hair to shake free. Placing the helmet under her pit, Otrera replied, “I’ll keep your secret if you keep mine.” This caught Hippolyta off guard. “What’s your secret?” Otrera smiled. “After I produce a grand pee like that, I feel like masturbating and going to sleep.” “Gross, mom!” Hippolyta scrunched up her face, not wanting to hear about her own mother’s sexual urges. Otrera laughed. “Let’s feast,” and she led the way out of the tent with Hippolyta right behind her.

It would be cool if people in general could make a request for a certain type of porn video. Like, if you could contact a creator asking specifically what you would like to see. Personally, I think this would be a nice idea.

I don't know if this will mean anything, but I am very sorry about all of this. Obviously, it is not my fault alone, but I still feel bad for women in general. I think it is difficult to create a site geared toward everyone. No matter what you do, the site will likely shift focus in one direction or another. That being said, it would be nice if women had their own site and we as a society recognized the fact that women also have sexual needs and interests. I am also sorry that men often chase women away from these sites. These men are creepy and psychotic if you ask me. I hope this has never happened to you personally. I hope that straight women can find their place on this site.

If you ask me, public urination shouldn't be illegal! After all, if someone is peeing outside, more likely than not, it was a last resort. (Most) people in general don't want to pee in public. If they do, they were likely on the verge of wetting themselves. Urination is just a normal bodily function regardless of age, gender, sex, race, culture, etc. When you gotta go, you gotta go. It would be nice if public urination (for both men and women) was legal. That will probably never happen, but it is nice to dream, lol! 🙂 PS, double standards are the worst!!!