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Sluttisen

Dry Member
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  • My pronouns are..
    he/him

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  • I'm into..
    Pleasure control
    Stomach bulging

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  1. I was on a train station, going home from a vacation at my parents house when I noticed a woman squeezing her legs a bit, being slightly tense and fidgety in the way we all know and love. Very much to my delight she was also, slowly but steadily, sipping from a 0.5 liter water bottle. At the risk of being objectifying, I'm going to describe her looks. She was of average build, maybe slightly smaller breasts, fairly fit, mid to upper twenties, brown hair in a ponytail, white long linen high cut trousers, see-through enough to give me an impression of a black thong, light yellow sleeveless shirt, brown hair in a ponytail and a generally pleasant face. However, the really noticeable thing about her was how she shined with happiness, especially when writing on her phone. She was standing in the sun between the stairways going down below the tracks, and the end of a one way track going south, that lies between two platforms. It was unclear if she was trying to improve her tan, escaping the somewhat chilly shadows of the platform roofs or using the warmth of the sun to keep her bladder from protesting. As she was starting to go to the opposite platform, I tried to discreetly move into a position where I would be able to see her while pretending to look for the train. Of course trying hard to keep a non-scary distance and avoid being caught staring. That plan failed. She went straight back for the stairways, while looking at all the walls and doors around her, most probably looking for directions for a public restroom. I did see her standing at the bottom of the stairways sending discouraged looks back and forth along the wide tunnel under the tracks, and in about a minute she was back in her favourite spot in the sun, fidgety as ever. Her train was long-distance and going north in fifteen minutes, so missing the train probably wasn't an option. As my train was leaving in 25 minutes and since she was now standing in clear sight I was able to discreetly enjoy her increasing desperation and constant shifting in position, except when a teenager acting up on my platform made her look and smile. As you know, having concentrated urine and holding it for long times can make your bladder try to push it out in order to prevent infection. I am pretty sure this was not the case in this particular situation. Her water drinking habit suggested that her bladder was quite recently emptied but there had developed a new pressure from a diluted liquid pressing the skin in her bladder until it almost could not expand anymore. This was not the work of impatient bladder muscle contractions. It was merely a container where the pressure from its elastic expansion was about to outgrow the pressure summonable by the mechanism for containing it's rapidly increasing content. (Sorry for that ;)) Still, she was actually increasing her speed of sipping from her bottle of water, and in the end she had been drinking half of it, in about twenty minutes. At the end she even did the famous knee bend to get the appropriate counter-pressure. All the time, she kept on texting, smiling brightly, but in between she got a another expression, hands fiddling around with anything they could find and legs not being able to stand still for more than thirty seconds in a row. When her train arrived, she found her vagon quite calmly and entered. The train was fairly modern, so it probably had a working restroom. I guess you are more qualified to guess if this was just a happy (for me) coincidence, or some game she played with herself or the person on the other end of the chat. Since I myself hate the feeling of being desperate, I sincerely hope she found a bathroom to her liking, but I can't help to imagine two hypothetical situations. The first is when an optimistic traffic control repeatedly reassures the waiting passengers that the traffic signal just south of the station will be solved in just a few minutes and their delayed train will come, and they keep repeating this message for half an hour or more, implicitly asking the passengers not to leave the platform. It would not be long before those 0.25 liters of water, and any other water she drank before, would find their way through her kidneys, and that did not seem like a very sustainable situation. The other unlikely situation is that all bathrooms on the train are closed (it was a short train), and she was likely to be stuck on it for one to several hours, depending on where she was going. I can imagine her crying and frantically pressing her urethra, almost not being able to stand, painfully slowly moving around the train trying to find the crew and begging them crying to open one of the toilets. Alternatively her finding some mental state of equilibrium enabling her to survive the last agonizing minutes before her station, or even the station before even though the cities in that part of the country lie about one hour apart. I also enjoy the thought of her just traveling home from her newly found crush, and her deciding not to use the bathroom before she leaves for whatever reason. Anyways, there it goes.
  2. Great! Especially her determination and how you use the stream to describe how vigorously she is fighting back. "You aren't going to win. I will not pee myself in this shower." Luna said out loud. Luna felt her bladder push down a third time and felt herself peeing a thin tiny stream. Luna felt some pee making its way to her urethra, right to the tip of it.
  3. I'm sensing some real classy omorashi ahead. Can't wait!
  4. I think this story would benefit from being interactive, to accentuate that the scientist doesn't know what challenges the cave will present. Regarding the breathable air. I'm assuming that all openings to the cave has been naturally closed long ago, by ash, lava, a glacier or the like. Also, the stone has to be prone to form caves, like limestone, but not producing carbon dioxide. I know concrete does that, and maybe limestone too, since it is a carbonate... Anyway, the reason scientists dismiss the possibility of life is that there is no energy supply to the cave, no wells to bring high energy compounds from the earth, and to dark to get energy from the star/sun. Therefore, the oxygen, in lack of other options, the atmosphere is assumed to be the same as has been trapped from when the surface of the planet was alive, preserved by the unusually chemically stable rock of the cave. Does that work for you? Feel free to criticize, I absolutely appreciate expert help to make this story as believable as possible. Puh, writing omorashi is hard. I agree it would be better if she had some higher reason than her own fame. One could use the old evil mining company plot, something like this. A mining company has good prospects on a newly found planet, where they want to drill/dig. Problem is that there has been life on the planet, until a series of volcanic eruptions has covered the surface in several meters of ash, some 10 000 years ago. Or meteor hit, or ice age, whatever is the most believable. However, the company is responsible to prove beyond reasonable doubt that there is truly no life left, before they start the drilling. Sadly, a great cavity is found using sonar, and worse it is found to have unusually high levels of oxygen. Therefore, the company is forced to put together a team of loyal scientists that will once and for all show that the oxygen is just a preserved part of the old atmosphere before the ash completely sealed all air exchange with the outer world. A fantastical phenomenon where the unique properties of the minerals of the cave walls, have preserved the air unchanged during the thousands of years since the catastrophe. Definitely not life, no life would be able to sustain that long in the dark, with no compounds from the outside. But as the evidence gathers, one in the team is not so convinced. There is something the robots are missing. The only way to know for sure is to send an experienced cave explorer down. But she knows that the leader of the group will never allow to do such an unethical, possibly illegal thing, to prove the very theory they were explicitly told to dismiss. If the mining company starts to dig, they would most likely destroy the last quivering remains of life that are possibly in the cave, without even noticing. The only way to save it is for her to go there by herself, find the lifeform, find out why the robots have not found it, find a way of helping the robots find it, and get back out without anyone knowing she was there, and without leaving a trace. Especially not ... urine. Whoa, this is one of the reasons why I backed away from the story in the first place, there is so much background needed, before the desperation parts come. But I understand some people like that, so...
  5. Exoplanet cave exploring, distant future. An exoplanet is found, where some natural catastrophe has killed all life. One controversial scientist believes that some primitive algae-like organism has survived in deep caves, due to the low carbon dioxide and high oxygen levels there. Others say this is just remains of the old atmosphere trapped there during the catastrophe. Even though the planet is widely believed to be dead, caution demands that no humans might enter it before this is proved, as this might destroy any unlikely biosystem. Instead, the research project uses state of the art protein detecting robots that can detect single proteins in the water or on the stone surfaces. However, they are unable to enter some of the most promising passages. As the resources begins to run low, the scientist desperately decides to go there herself, to go further than the robots can. However, if any protein trace of her is found, she will charged with the serious crime of endangering the last remains of independently developed life. And worse, her scientific discovery might be questioned. The air in the caves is perfectly breathable, and there is plenty of water to drink, but to get into the smallest passages she needs to use a type of spray on rubber space suit that sticks flexibly and durable directly to closely shaved skin. It breaths the moist of sweat, but blocks any proteins to escape into the pristine environment. It also has no place for containers of other bodily waste products, and if the wearer fails to contain those herself, the suit will grow like a balloon, and soon burst. Therefore, the scientist must not let her curiosity lead her too far from her secret base station, or her holding abilities and determination might prove insufficient on the difficult crawl, climbing and squeezing to get back. But this isn't always easy to be sensible if you think the discovery of a lifetime is just around a hard-to-cross corner. Will she find life in the depths of the cave? Will the prospect of fame and glory as opposed to questions and prison be enough to squeeze her distended abdomen undiminished through the narrow shafts all the way back to the safety of the base station? Initially, I intended the background story to be about the spore theory, but I couldn't explain the presence of oxygen. I'm such a nerd. But I will be perfectly content with such a story, as long as it contains a nerdy scientist woman with life changing motivation to contain a overfull bladder stressed by complicated climbing manoeuvres. I also thought of the title "Life on Mars, the desperate search", but that is entirely up to the writer. Feel free to use any (or none) of the text above.
  6. Science has shown that you get better at the Stroop test if you have to pee. In the Stroop test, you are shown a sequence of words printed in different colors, and you are supposed to name that color. The problem is that the words are names of other colors. The theory is that if you inhibit the primary response of having a full bladder, that is to void it, and instead focus on holding it, you will also be better at inhibiting the primary response of reading a word, and thus it is easier to name the color it is written in. There are a handful of pdfs on Google Scholar if you search for impulse control, inhibition, BIS, bladder control, intertemporal choice, Stroop task One of them contains a fun, albeit short, description of making voluntary university students drink 750 ml of water and do tests for over an hour. Anyway, I thought it might be fun to replicate those results in an informal way (without the boring math, of course), and maybe see if they also hold for greater levels of desperation.
  7. Alexandra didn’t want the show to end, but at the same time she tried hard to guess if this was the last song or not. For the last half hour or so, she had been going back and forth between failing to contain the immense pressure pounding in her bladder and with will and power clenching herself shut for just a little longer. But she just couldn’t discretely fall back from the fence, into the (very) relative privacy of the jumping crowd, discretely disappear down, pull her skirt up, her knickers down, and just release enough to endure to the end of the show. Not when HE was watching. However, if this wasn’t the last song, she had begun to realize that there would be no other option for her. But it was. Now Alexandra knew she would just have to wait until the crowd had convinced the band to play one extra song. Just one more song! “I can do this!” She wasn’t convinced. But the minutes went on, and no sign of the band coming back. Why! Why this time, out of all times! Normally, they were extremely predictable. With a mixed feeling of helplessness, deep disappointment and almost anger she found it harder and harder to motivate herself to stem the flow when it managed to push itself through. She was, somewhat discreetly, holding herself, with both hands, but quite unexpectedly she felt a warm stream down her thigh, making its way all the way down to the right one of her newly bought shoes. Then everything happened very quickly. Fuck him, she thought. He has failed me. If he sees me pee, then that will be his punishment. At the same time as she was thinking this, she roughly made her way through the crowd, leaving little shoe-shaped, steaming puddles behind her as she went. Mere seconds later she put her plan at work, among the ignorant crowd, but then he reentered the stage and all was forgiven. With tears mixed of joy and denied relief, she used the power of love to postpone what she so desperately longed for. It was like the agony heightened her senses, and she was able to enjoy the music, the mood and his presence more than ever before. With a superhuman effort, she managed to last the last song without any further accidents. Then she forced her way through the crowd calling for more. But she knew, there would be no more, there never was more than one extra song. The stairs down didn’t look like she remembered them, but being lost wasn’t a problem. If she found a desolated dead end instead of a bathroom, it could as well be used as a bathroom. She couldn’t afford to be picky. She found herself in something that looked like a maintenance corridor. At second thought, it seemed very unlikely that any of the less distracted concert visitors would come this way, at least not anytime soon. And if they did, they would just get one show more than they had asked for. In one move she pulled down her panties, her skirt up and leaned with her back against the wall, and just like the last time he turned up out of nowhere. It was like a bad joke. She just had time to think “If I knew this would happen every time I wet myself in public, I would drink a lot more water before going out” before he screamed “Run!” The panic in his eyes left no time for questions. A split second later she found herself running with him. Her bladder felt like it was wobbling around, independently of the rest of her body, like trying to balance an overfilled water balloon on a plate, or a clumsy river boat that had been dragged out onto the gigantic waves of a stormy ocean. She couldn’t believe that she was running for her life together with him! “In here!”, he whispered. The door was held open by a small piece of wood that he immediately pulled out and closed the door, swiftly but smoothly behind them. The small room was dark and smelled of different cleaning products. In the faint light she intuitively identified several objects that could possibly handle the copious amounts of liquid she felt able to emit, but peeing would simply have to wait. And he just stood there, holding the handle tight, and with his ear against the door. “So John, who are we running from” she said in her best sensual, casual, grown-up-who-can-socialize-even-if-her-bladder-is-full-voice, ignoring his somewhat overdriven jump of fear over the sudden sound. Quite unexpectedly, the voice on the outside answered: “I thought you went in there, John. An you got a girl with you. How typical.” “Leave her out of this, it is between you and me!” “How right you are. Now come out, and let’s settle this, man to man. Two guns, two bullets, one for you, one for me.” “Never!” Suddenly the door handle started to rumble, but John managed to keep it closed, in other ways then Alexandra. “Don’t stand in front of the door” she screamed at him. “Don’t worry”, he answered in a sarcastic tone. “He won’t shoot unless he is absolutely sure to hit me”. “You are quite right”, answered the voice outside. “I want to look into your eyes when you die!”. Suddenly the struggle ended and was replaced by the sound of something being dragged across the floor. Then the handle went up, and stayed there. They were trapped. “I leave you here for now”, the voice said. “See you later John!” Alexandra reached for her phone to call the police, but the building blocked all signals. There was no chance that they could make themselves heard all the way to the people outside. Never in Alexandra’s life had she been so desperate to pee, and never in the history of time had anyone been so determined to hold it. Nothing, nothing, nothing would disturb this romantic adventure, and she wanted them to be there alone together for a long time.
  8. For those of you who want to improve your highschool german: Lost Angel's feuchte Erzählungen. Page: all pages
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