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TrailRunner

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  1. Author's note: I wrote this story four or five years ago but never published it. The pacing is bad, it's too much worldbuilding for arguably not enough payoff. It's time to admit I'm never going to go back and edit it to fix that, but I also don't want to just leave it buried forever. So here it is in all its rough draft glory. I did a quick spelling and grammar scrub but otherwise this is basically a first draft. It's possible there are some non-sequitur transitions things that are supposed to be italicized that aren't, or incomplete thoughts. I hope it's not too much of a grind to get through... 'tis the season for college hoops, after all. Madison tried to listen intently as her coach was going over the gameplan. But it wasn't that simple. She tried to focus but found herself much more drawn to taking in the experience, the spectacle. Her first season of college basketball had been a roller coaster. She had only reluctantly accepted the scholarship offer in the first place. She had dreamed of going somewhere warm for college, but the high schools of New Hampshire were not the first place major college coaches visited when recruiting. Nor was it the last place they visited. They just simply didn't visit. Not that Madison was any kind of superstar. But she grew up with two older brothers who played the sport and picked it up early herself. Considering the competition, you didn't have to be a great athlete to stand out. And so even though Madison wasn't the fastest, or the biggest, or the strongest girl on her high school team, she started on varsity all four years. The muscle memory she didn't even know she was developing as a young girl playing against her big brothers was by that point fully ingrained, and her shot was automatic. Her high school coach quickly figured out that while Madison wasn't athletic enough to create her own shot, if her teammates set the right screens and got her open, she'd hit the three-pointer more often than she'd miss. By her senior year she had developed one extra little trick when opposing defenses had figured the system out. They knew she wasn't going to drive past them, so Madison figured out how to be just deceptive enough to fake her shot motion, which got her defender to jump in the air toward her, and then she'd follow through and draw the foul knowing she could make nearly every free throw. She had gotten some recruiting mail and a few phone calls from college coaches at lower level colleges, but she didn't have much interest in playing at some small school she'd never heard of. She was ready to leave organized basketball behind and had already applied to a couple of schools in California and Arizona when the coach of her home state school, the University of New Hampshire, called and set up a visit to officially offer her a scholarship. She heard the coach out, and in the end she decided she wasn't completely ready to give up the sport she loved after all. And she figured even if she stopped playing and transferred after a year or two, it would still mean fewer student loans to take out and pay back later. She almost didn't even make it a practice or two. It was clear right away this was a different level. Her shot was reliable as ever in practice, but the kind of offense her high school coach set up for her wasn't feasible to run at the college level where everybody was much quicker. A small growth spurt over the summer at least meant she fit in height-wise, but during a free-flowing scrimmage at the end of the first practice she was blocked out, boxed out, and had her shot swatted out so many times she thought about simply walking off the court and never coming back. Her coach must have sensed as much because she took Madison aside after that practice and convinced her to stay. "Give me a chance," she had said. "And give your teammates a chance." So Madison did, and she was glad she did. Her coach kept practices fun, and her teammates were all genuinely kind and caring and she enjoyed being with them. The season started with a few losses. But they were games the team was supposed to lose. And that made it okay. Before her senior year of high school, the local paper had picked her team to win the county championship. And then they promptly lost their first two games. The doom-and-gloom feeling infected the locker room and even carried over to the classrooms and the hallways of her normal school day. Madison hated that feeling. But if you know ahead of time you're supposed to lose, and then you do lose, it's still okay for somebody to crack a joke on the bus ride back to campus. Madison didn't play in any of those first couple games, and that was just fine with her. She was still a step or three behind in practice against her teammates and she wasn't eager to see how things would go against a team capable of beating those teammates by 25 or more points. Eventually though they played some teams closer to their own weight class and they picked up a few wins. She had settled into her gameday role of being a glorified cheerleader at the end of the bench and loved the camaraderie of the team. After an unusually angry halftime speech from her coach in which she admonished the team to "get the ball to the rim and stop fishing for threes," their first shot out of the locker room was a three-pointer. It went in, and the senior who hit it turned toward the coach on the bench with a sly grin, then pantomimed casting and reeling an imaginary fishing pole. They went on to win that game, and that became the team's celebration of choice whenever they hit a big shot. They even snapped a photo after that game of a few girls holding up the one who had made the shot, like a prize catch. Madison finally got into a game midway through the conference season. She had been working hard in practice, and with the team up 18 points and less than two minutes to go, her coach called out her number and she went to the scoring table to check in. The ball wound up in her hands on the first possession and muscle memory took over. She fired up a long shot, nothing but net. The starters leapt up from the bench to cheer, and when Madison pulled out her own pretend fishing pole they exploded with laughter. She got into a couple more games like that during the season, but then it was conference tournament time and things got more serious. For the four seniors on the team, any game, any shot, any dribble could be their last. Sure, the team could go on some crazy run. March is the month to dream, if you're a basketball player or fan. But the team had finished in the lower half of the conference standings. And the school had never been to the NCAA tournament. So there was an unspoken attitude: Enjoy it while it lasts. But then... something sparked. They won their first game against a team they split with during the season. Facing the second-best team in the conference, the four seniors helped rally the team in the second half. The joy of winning that game was eclipsed shortly after in the locker room, when they all watched together as another big upset happened on the other side of the bracket. The best team in the conference had lost. Suddenly it wasn't about "enjoying it while it lasts." It was about making history for the school. Playing with all the confidence in the world, the team controlled the championship game from start to finish. Madison hadn't played a minute in any of the three games but it hardly mattered. She took her turn cutting part of the net and raised it in the air triumphantly. She may as well have been on top of the world. All of this was going through her head back in the locker room as she gulped down her Gatorade. They HAD been on top of the world, but the little America East conference is a small world. The NCAA tournament is more like the entire galaxy. As the upset winner of a tiny conference, New Hampshire was rewarded with a 16 seed. Not just any 16 seed. They were pitted against the University of Connecticut, the #1 overall seed. That meant that, in the committee's estimation, New Hampshire was the worst of the 64 teams to qualify for the tournament. The scoreboard at halftime vindicated that, as New Hampshire trailed 41-21. A quick history lesson: Only two times in the history of the tournament, men or women, has a 16 seed beaten a 1 seed. In 2018 the UMBC (from the America East!) men's team was tied 23-23 with the University of Virginia at halftime and went on to blow them away in the second half. Twenty years before that, Harvard's women's team led an injury-depleted Stanford team 43-34 at halftime and hung on for the win. This... did not quite have the same feeling. There was no gameplan on the planet that was going to bring New Hampshire back, so Madison didn't feel too bad about tuning her coach out to take in the experience. They were only going to be officially in the tournament for another twenty minutes, so might as well soak everything in. As she always did, one of the seniors, a girl named Alyssa, gathered the team in a huddle just before the end of halftime. Alyssa's rah-rah speeches had gotten emotional before when it seemed like it may be her final game. But this time the writing was really on the wall. Madison could feel the speech going long but the coaches stood aside, not wanting to interrupt their emotional leader in her final game. "You are all my sisters!" Alyssa was still going. "I was damn proud to fight along with y'all this whole season. The scoreboard says 20 minutes left..." She paused not for dramatic effect but because her voice squeaked as she grew emotional. "20 minutes... I'ma fight with my sisters for 20 more minutes! Y'all gotta be with me! I don't care what the score is... I care about fighting and making sure they know we ain't gonna roll over for them! This is it, y'all..." Speaking the sentence out loud seemed to make it too real for Alyssa and she grew quiet. She always ended her speech with a fiery "CATS ON THREE!" but couldn't bring herself to work it up. Madison noticed the coaches starting to look impatient. Finally another of the seniors spoke up. "Cats on three," she said steadily. "One...two... three..." "CATS!" the team yelled back in unison. "Hey, hey, let's go, we gotta go!" the coach said, clapping her hands and directing the players toward the tunnel back onto the court. Madison followed near the end of the line. She had hoped that was enough time for her to duck into the bathroom, but Alyssa's speech had taken some serious time. By the time they got onto the floor, they only had about three minutes of warm-up before play resumed. Madison took her usual spot near the end of the bench and settled in. Her team inbounded the ball to get the second half under way then almost immediately made an errant pass to turn the ball over. She sighed, lamenting the lack of a bathroom break at halftime. She was a little surprised at how much she needed to pee, but it made sense. It wasn't exactly like LeBron James taking the court in Cleveland, but the pre-game routine was a bit more "big time" than she was used to. She hadn't really felt the need to go when they'd been in the locker room before pre-game introductions, so it had been since before the walkthrough that she'd used the toilet. She felt her bladder filling up with the Gatorade she'd been drinking. She tried to focus on the game but it was hard to get into. The Huskies had more or less run up and down the court at will in the first half, but her Wildcat teammates were clearly making a point of getting up in their faces and playing more physically. Accordingly, they seemed to be getting whistled for a foul just about every possession. That meant the clock was constantly stopped. Madison twisted a bit in her chair as she looked at the scoreboard and saw that only two minutes of game time had passed. She had to do a double-take, thinking there was no way she had to pee this much worse already so soon into the second half. Possession. Whistle. Possession. Whistle. The game officially had no sense of flow right now. But the defensive intensity was undeniably working. The Huskies had surely expected a pillow fight of a second half but they were getting a rock fight. Unable to impose their decided athletic advantage in the open court, they were out of rhythm and uncharacteristically turning the ball over. The Wildcats hit a three-pointer, and then, trying to do a bit too much against the press, the Huskies' guard dribbled the ball off her foot, and Alyssa scooped it up and sprinted for a layup, letting out a scream as the opposing coach immediately hopped up to call timeout with the score 45-31. Madison leapt up from the bench to high-five her teammates coming toward her. Caught up in the moment she forgot about her need for a second, until she noticed the clock stopped with 5:15 still remaining in the third quarter. The starters were seated in a circle surrounding the coach, with Madison and the other reserves standing behind. She felt her bladder weighing heavily now that she was on her feet, the downward pressure growing stronger. She found herself unable to keep her brain from doing the math on how much longer she would have to wait. Usually a typical half would take a little less than an hour to play, but the stoppages were a little bit longer during the tournament, and it already felt like it had taken half an hour to play the first five minutes. Plus soon the Huskies would be shooting free throws with the clock stopped with each foul instead of just inbounding the ball and resuming the game. The timeout over, Madison went back to her chair and sat down. The dull ache persisted, her body filling up with pee. She found it hard to hold the same position for very long and crossed and uncrossed her legs at the ankles trying to settle in. The action on the court resumed with UConn missing a shot, and then amidst a group of bodies fighting for the rebound a loud THUD as one of her teammates hit the floor hard. The referee underneath blew the whistle several times to stop play and ran in to break up a growing skirmish between the two teams. The trainer hopped up from the end of the bench and went to check on the injured player. A hush went over the arena as she stayed down. The trainer leaned over, preventing Madison from getting a look. "Did you see what happened?" her teammate Jess, seated next to her, asked. "No," Madison whispered back. "I just, like, saw the mess of bodies and then she was down." "Me neither. Alyssa is fucking *pissed* though, it must have been something," Jess said. That was true. Their senior leader was still fired up, gesturing as she was making her case to the referee who was trying to calm her down. Their teammate remained down on the ground, attended to by the trainer, while the head ref pointed over toward the scoring table. They readied the video monitor for him to review to see what kind of foul needed to be assessed. Their head coach went out on the court to try to escort Alyssa to the bench to cool off. Madison found herself caught up in the drama of the moment, but this video review seemed to be taking forever, and groaned inwardly as her bladder relayed nonstop signals to her brain to find a bathroom. Finally the referee came over to tell the coach the results of the review. "We've got a disqualifying foul on white number 13, excessive contact, elbow to the head. That player is ejected from the game," he said. UConn was in the white jerseys. That must have been what happened to knock her teammate down like this, Madison figured. "We've also got an unsportsmanlike foul on blue number 4 for shoving after the whistle." "WHAT?!" Alyssa leapt up from the bench, hot again. She was blue number 4. "That's bullshit, man!" "Hey!" The ref shot back, holding his whistle up near his mouth. "Don't make me send you out, too!" An assistant coach corralled Alyssa before she could talk her way into a second unsportsmanlike infraction, which would've resulted in her disqualification, too. "I know you're trying to stick up for your teammate but let us handle the justice, okay?" He turned back to the coach to discuss how the free throws for each team would go and who would be awarded the ball. On the court, the downed teammate was finally being helped to her feet. The crowd politely applauded her mobility, but Madison could see as the trainer helped her past the bench and toward the locker room that she looked totally out of it. She didn't know much about concussions but figured that's what this had to be. She gave a supportive tap on the shoulder as her dazed teammate went back to the locker room to be given a more thorough check-up. With things finally settled, the Huskies sank both of their free throws, and the Wildcats answered by making two as well, then prepared to inbound the ball. Then another whistle. This time the referee had to go check the video screen again to see if the game clock was right. He eventually ordered an adjustment to 4:57 remaining. It had felt like an eternity since Madison last looked up at the clock and done the math. She clenched her leg muscles. She felt like she had to pee twice as bad as before, and a grand total of 18 seconds had rolled off the clock. She shifted herself again in her seat as play finally resumed. The game got back under way and it was quickly apparent that the dust-up under the basket only served to refocus her teammates' defensive energy. It wasn't even clear if the end goal was winning or just making their opponents' lives miserable for the final fifteen minutes of the game. The Huskies finally seemed to adjust, though, and seemed content to win this game on free throws if that's what it took. With New Hampshire already over the foul limit, each infraction meant two shots. They were missing just enough of them, and the Wildcats were doing just enough while they had the ball, to prevent the game from turning back into a laugher. The margin danced from 14 up to 17 and then down to 12. The Wildcats pushed the ball up the floor and kicked it to the corner for an open three-pointer. Madison and everyone else on the bench stood in anticipation as the ball hung in the air and exploded with glee as it swished through. Madison wondered why her legs felt tired just from standing up, then realized it was because she was subconsciously squeezing her muscles hard. The Huskies answered with a three-pointer of their own on the other end, and had drawn a foul to boot, so Madison sat back down, now aware of exactly how much energy her body was putting into holding it. With one player injured and now another picking up her fourth foul, one away from the limit, the coach called down the bench for a lesser-used player to enter the game. The Wildcats were sitting on the bench roughly in the pecking order they'd be called upon. To Madison's far right, next to the assistant coaches, were the players actively in the rotation, just waiting to be subbed back onto the floor. At the other end of the bench were the walk-ons, the players who would only get into the game if there were literally no other options available (and even then, it was probably 50/50). For all intents and purposes, Madison was in that second group. The only player seated between her and the walk-ons was Jess, who had torn her ACL last summer and was sitting out the whole season to rehab it. She had only recently been cleared to return to practice and if her coach called on her to enter this game, it would cost her an entire year of eligibility. So that was doubtful. Glancing to the right, there were still two girls seated between the now-empty seat and Madison. That meant two more girls to get called on before her. Even with the injury and the foul trouble, it seemed unlikely. And that was just fine with her. Standing up to celebrate a shot had been its own mini-ordeal, so there were few things Madison wanted to do less right now than run up and down the court. She sat with her knees practically bolted together, leaned over. She hoped it portrayed a supportiveness in her team and the game and not an increasingly nervous college freshman dreaming of sitting on the toilet and letting the river of pee out. She quickly tried to use her elbow to press against herself through her shorts. She managed a deep breath as it relieved some of the pressure, but she also realized how ridiculous it must look and pulled it away. Lost in her thoughts, the buzzer sounding to end the third quarter took her by surprise. She tilted her head back to look up at the scoreboard: 52-42. The five Wildcats on the floor came to the bench for a stream of neverending high-fives and hugs. They had somehow managed to cut the 20-point lead in half. It wasn't really a sense of "we can win this" -- even if the Wildcats were leading by 10 entering the final quarter, you'd be smart to bet on the Huskies to win -- but for ten minutes they had outworked and outplayed the best team in the country. That was something worth celebrating. Madison wished she could immerse herself in the moment and enjoy it. Somewhere in the back of her brain was the knowledge that this might very well be the highlight of her career, at least from a team standpoint. But the rest of her brain had a more practical wish: A trip to the bathroom. Like, NOW. She stared longingly toward the tunnel that led to the locker room. Couldn't she just... go? Come to think of it, she had no idea what the protocol was for this situation. She couldn't ever recall it coming up. Well, there had been her teammate on her fifth-grade softball team who Madison remembered running in from center field, her gray pants growing darker with every step. She shuddered at the thought. She thought about asking one of the coaches, but... this was the NCAA tournament. Against the #1 team. And they were only down. This had to be beyond their dreams, too, and interrupting that to ask permission to use the bathroom felt intensely juvenile. So she decided to separate herself from the pack, the pressure burning in her abdomen. She took a few steps before she had to collect herself, making 100% sure she had a handle on the situation. She started down the tunnel and just for a moment the weight lifted off her shoulders. Everything was going to be okay. She was going to go in, pee, and be able to cheer on her teammates without the stress of an overflowing bladder. "Hey, I got it." She looked up and saw an assistant coach coming toward her. "Uhwha?" Madison mumbled out in confusion. "The marker, we're good to go. Let's go huddle up." Before she even knew what was happening, the assistant had her arm around Madison and was guiding her back toward the bench. No, no, no! she thought. She was so close. The assistant handed the fresh marker to the head coach, who immediately began furiously scribbling a set on the whiteboard in the huddle. Madison had teased her body with thoughts of sweet relief, and now her body was tormenting her for denying it. A wave of searing pressure swept over her body, forcing her up onto her tiptoes before her heels came back down and her toes curled involuntarily, every bit as tense as the rest of her. She gritted her teeth and looked over at the stat sheet. Still only two players with four fouls apiece. She had been getting more worried that she was somehow going to be subbed into the game in this condition, but this re-assured her. Plus now that they were closer they could afford to back off some of the defensive pressure. "Do not back off that defensive pressure!" Her coach was giving the pump-up speech this time. It was like she read Madison's mind and said the one thing that would be most deflating. "We just gave them ten minutes of Hell and now we need to give them ten more! Ten minutes to make history, let's go!" Whether or not her coach actually believed this could happen was irrelevant. The time to be rational was over for her and Madison's five teammates who were now back on the court getting ready for play to resume. Taking her seat on the bench, Madison had the luxury of fully observing the moment, not just living in it. She took another glance at the scoreboard. The Huskies had won their first-round game by 49 points a year ago, and that was considered one of their weaker teams. The weight of only being down 10 points entering the 4th quarter was not lost on her. It was a different weight that demanded her attention as the ball was inbounded to start the quarter. Stuck in her chair, legs glued shut and knees flexed in an effort to ease the aching of her bladder at its limit, she felt beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Any kind of movement made it all worse, so she kept her arms at her lap, fists clenched. Practically as soon as the action started, a ref blew their whistle to bring it to a stop. One of the Wildcats players had given a shove trying to get around a screen. It was her fifth foul, which meant she was disqualified from the game. She walked over to the bench, getting high-fives before she slumped in her chair, frustrated at having committed the foul. Two seats to Madison's right, another teammate named Kate stood up quickly and did some stretching. Madison took stock of the situation. Her coach had been running a skeleton crew rotation of just six players, substituting liberally in an effort to get everyone a breather. Now Kate was going to replace the fouled-out player. That meant there was only one more player left before Madison might get the call. But there was only one other player on the verge of fouling out. And even if somehow two more players went out her coach might well just go with five players the rest of the way instead of subbing in a freshman who'd played exactly zero minutes of consequence this season. Despite sitting down for the entire game, her legs felt more tired from tensing up to fight back against the fury of a full bladder than they ever had running up and down the court in a game. More sweat formed on her forehead and her throat was getting dry from the stress, but she couldn't even think about taking a sip of water right now, let alone going through the motions of standing up to get some. The Huskies made the first two baskets of the quarter and it seemed as though they might finally run away with it. With three seconds left on the shot clock for Madison's team, the ball was poked free. Kate ran over to retrieve it and in one motion collected it and threw it in the general direction of the basket as the buzzer sounded. Swish. The rest of the bench rose to cheer the incredible play, but Madison stayed planted in her seat, afraid that any kind of sudden movement was going to be too much to bear and cause the pee to start leaking out of her. They kept up the defensive intensity just like their coach had ordered. Two minutes later, with the Wildcats down 8, it resulted in another foul-out, this time from a senior. This time her coach looked down the bench hesitantly, trying to decide if they'd be better off just going with the five players out there rather than one of the two healthy players at the end of the bench. But half the team out on the court had their hands on their hips, breathing heavily. So the girl seated to Madison's right was motioned over and sent down to the scorer's table to check in. That was the end of the buffer zone now, Madison thought to herself. If anything else happens there would be a very real chance she would be next. She wasn't even sure she could stand up without making her underwear wet, let alone compete with a bladder that was howling in agony. The fouled-out teammate came off the court and gave her coach a hug, tears in her eyes. She knew it was her last time making that walk, and it clearly pained her that she couldn't be out there for the final six minutes of her career. Madison had tears in her own eyes, but that was less rooted in the sadness of the end of an era and more that she would give anything to be near a toilet and pull her shorts down and just let go, let out the absolute torrent of pee that was begging for an escape. She was hunched over in her seat now and if anyone happened to look over at the bench they would instantly recognize this girl with her hand buried between her legs had to pee SO bad, worse than she ever had in her entire life. Against all odds, reason, and logic, her team was keeping it close. If you've ever seen one of those sports movies with the plucky underdog, you know the signs. The highly-favored Huskies were completely knocked off their game by this team that refused to go away. They were still easily the more physically dominant team, and when their lead guard sliced through the lane to get an easy lay-up it seemed like they should be able to do that every time. But they were making mental mistakes, throwing the ball away and leaving players wide open on defense, and it was somehow 64-60 with three minutes left. Three minutes left. Madison tried to use that to build her confidence. When the quarter started she wasn't sure she could hold it another three minutes total, and now she'd made it all this way. But it was hard to be confident with her leg shaking uncontrollably, the rest of her body going haywire with all resources devoted to desperately holding back the river of pee inside. Her head was pounding, yet another side effect of the intense focus it was taking to maintain control. Her leg wasn't the only thing shaking, though. She could feel her tired urethral muscles burning and starting to spasm, forcing her to grip herself even tighter to avert disaster. She turned her attention back to the court, where Alyssa was bringing the ball up the court. She stopped on a dime three feet behind the three point line and hoisted a shot. It splashed through the net to bring the team within a point. Alyssa turned to the bench and whipped out her make-believe fishing pole. The opponent who had been guarding her gave Alyssa a small shove with her forearm as she went by. Alyssa said something back and got into her defensive stance. A one-point game. The heightened drama on the court was starting to rival the drama in Madison's own head on the bench. She ground down both of her heels into the wood floor, balling up her fists and sending incantations through her head like she was a preschooler. I'm going to hold it... I'm not going to pee in my pants... I'm going to hold it... I am NOT going to pee in my pants... The Huskies scored an easy layup on their end to go up 3 points, and Alyssa brought the ball back down the court. She stopped even further back than last time and again put up a shot. This time it pinballed off one side of the rim then the other, straight up into the air... then straight down through the net. The neutral observers in the stands went wild as the shot tied the game, but mostly it was Huskies fans stunned into silence. Alyssa had a wide grin as she turned around to get back on defense, getting right in the face of the opponent who had given her the forearm shove last time. The two stopped together around midcourt. It was clear Alyssa wasn't content to just let her shot do the talking. The burgeoning scuffle caught Madison's attention and she was looking right at it but even she wasn't positive what happened next. Alyssa had her arms raised and was looking as angry as ever. Was she trying to return the earlier shove, or was she trying to defend another one coming her way? No matter. All three referees seemed to notice at the exact same time and blew their whistles as they rushed over to break up the altercation. They managed to separate the players and then huddled up to discuss. This was akin to torture for Madison. She was so close, SO close, and now she was stuck staring at the game clock frozen at 2 minutes and 1 second remaining. She was squeezing with every fiber of her being to keep her throbbing bladder from overtaking her muscles and sending a jet of hot pee into her underwear and shorts. The referee huddle broke and one went to the Huskies bench to explain. The head official came over to the Wildcats bench to talk to Madison's coach. "Double technical. Number 22 white, number 4 blue," he said matter-of-factly. Then he took on an apologetic tone. "That's her second one, she's gotta go." He pointed down the bench toward the tunnel. It was her second technical foul of the game, which meant an automatic ejection. Alyssa was standing just feet away, her hands on her head and her mouth wide open with disbelief. She had just hit the biggest shot of her life, maybe one of the biggest shots in the history of the tournament, to tie the game with the best team in the country. The senior, the captain, the emotional leader... not only was she not going to be able to participate in the final two minutes, she wasn't even allowed to be on the bench. Madison watched the scene unfold, feeling a little sympathetic but mostly jealous. She would love to be thrown out of this game, she thought, and go back to the locker room where she could finally give her exhausted bladder a rest and just pee. It sounded like heaven. She half-seriously thought about standing up and running onto the court during the scuffle. Any player on the bench who did that was subject to disqualification. But that would also give the other team two free throws and make her the one to cost the team a shot at history. But the fact the thought even entered her head underscored just how much agony she was in. She wasn't sure whether Alyssa was going to erupt and try to fight the referee in anger or maybe break down in tears. She still had her head in her hands, processing the moment. Madison was so caught up in watching, not to mention her battle with her bladder, that it took an assistant coach walking down and coming right up to her to get her attention. "You're up," was all she said. I'm up. I'm... up? Like, UP up? Madison's body felt like a race car with the pedal pressed down but with the emergency brake engaged. Her mind was spinning and her heart was pounding but she felt like she could only move in slow motion. She tried to shift her weight and stand up but immediately planted back down. She swore she could feel the river inside make its way down to the very end that time before she managed to squeeze it back. She used her hands this time to push up off the seat, taking the tiniest steps possible toward the front of the bench where the assistant was. As she walked down, Alyssa approached. Her fiery teammate looked like she had been hypnotized into a daze. She hadn't erupted. Instead she was coolly walking away. Madison wasn't even sure the situation had registered to her until she got close. "This ain't how it ends, this ain't how it ends," she was saying to herself. She stopped when she got to Madison, the terrified freshman who was about to be forced into the game by her exit. "This ain't how it fucking ends," she said again, this time at Madison. "Make sure I get out there again." Madison responded with a barely perceptible nod. Like she needed something else on her plate. The Wildcats were supposed to lose this game by 40 points. Instead it was 64-64 with 2:01 left. Madison wasn't even supposed to come close to playing. Instead she was front-and-center on the bench, right next to all the coaches. And now the captain of the team, the emotional leader, the heart and soul of the team, was counting on her to pull off the impossible and win the game to move on to the next round. And... right. There was also the matter of her bursting bladder, which had long passed the points of tingling and pulsing and was now positively throbbing. This wasn't just the worst Madison ever had to pee in her life, she thought, this might be the worst pain she had ever been in. She sat down next to the assistant and looked out onto the court. Thankfully the coaches had made the decision to swap the subbed-out player back in but this was truly thin ice now. While the head coach gathered the five going on the court, the assistant turned and looked at Madison. The despair of urgency was too great for her face to hide. She clenched her jaw and gritted her teeth as she locked her knees together and tried to think of anything to distract her. "Alright, if you go in you're gonna guard 22," her coach began. Clearly neither her nor Madison had ever planned on this conversation, so she started giving a rapid-fire scouting report. Likes to go left, don't reach, slide your feet. Madison nodded along impatiently. She tried to sit still but she felt her bladder starting to give in and couldn't help but lift her feet off the ground and bring her knees toward her chest. "What's wrong?" the coach asked. Madison had no energy left for playing coy. "Uh, I have to pee," she admitted. "Like REALLY bad." Her coach gave her a confused look and then a head shake as a whistle blew and the players took their spot on the floor. Madison immediately felt ashamed as she thought about what could be going through her coach's mind. The absolute biggest game of her life, a potentially historic upset, trying to run through the scouting report for this benchwarmer freshman... and she can't concentrate because she needs to pee. Madison turned her eyes away but knew she couldn't hide her blushing cheeks. "Well just forget about that and watch 22," the assistant said before mercifully turning back to confer with the head coach. Madison watched her, all right. She watched her dribble down the clock and then blow right by her teammate -- the reserve who had just gone in ahead of her -- for an easy basket. Huskies back up by two. They went into a full-court press on defense and, without Alyssa on the court to take charge, caused a sloppy turnover. Madison watched as #22 corralled the ball and drove to the basket again. Her teammate took a half-hearted swipe at the ball, but the opponent easily muscled through it and laid it up, and-one. "TIMEOUT!" Madison watched her head coach jump up from her seat. Madison threw her head back in anguish and could feel her legs turning numb from the aching. She saw the scoreboard showing 1:28 remaining. But she quickly snapped it back down when she heard the coach's next words: "You're going in." Madison sprung up from her seat and instantly regretted it, practically doubling over. Her bladder was stretched to its limit and it felt like all that liquid inside was boiling, burning her urethra as it pleaded for relief. The five players from the court ambled over, looking dejected. The assistant coach went to her teammate who had just given up the two baskets and committed the foul and escorted her to the bench while Madison huddled up with the others and the head coach. She couldn't keep her legs still even for a second. She bounced up and down frantically, bending one knee back and then the other. The coach was talking and the other four players were listening intently but Madison was stuck in her own world, utterly terrified that in about thirty seconds she was going to have to get out on the floor in front of everyone while she was absolutely DYING to pee. She was going to have run, and think, and what if the ball actually somehow got in her hands? She started shaking. She was keeping her underwear dry by the thinnest of threads just while sitting on the bench, she thought. How was she ever going to survive moving around? She wanted to reach down and push against her pee hole as hard as she could, but she settled for casually resting her hand against it. The huddle broke and she walked slowly out onto the court. It was like she could feel her bladder swelling with every single step. Baseball, softball, soccerball, volleyball, basketball... It felt like there were a hundred basketballs inside her, all filled to the brim with warm pee and bouncing every which way, fighting against Madison's weakening hold. She didn't have to be in the key for the free throw, so at least she could mill about near halfcourt, disguising her desperate twitches as best she could. She had taken only a few steps and already felt out of breath. She The free throw went up and suddenly everything was a blur. It clanged off the rim and bounced to one of her teammates and the stampede was headed up the court. For a second Madison felt her legs lock up, refusing to move. She tried to think about what to do, where to go, but her mind could focus on nothing but the pounding from below. The thought that she would never be able to move again for fear of wetting her shorts in front of everyone lingered, but she finally managed to get herself unstuck. She could feel in her gait that she was running not like a graceful athlete but like a kindergartener who'd held it too long and was now racing to the potty. She found her way to a corner and again doubled over in desperation. The opponent defending her quickly realized Madison was hardly a threat and left to provide help. She helped force an awkward shot from Madison's teammate, but it miraculously found its way in the basket. Back to a two-point game. Madison felt tears stinging her eyes as the Huskies brought the ball in. It wasn't fair. She had held out as long as she could on the bench. Maybe, MAYBE if that been it she could bear it. But all the unlikely circumstances that led to her being put in the game... Down two points, in the final minute? And it was her job to guard the girl with the ball? It was too much to ask. She felt her underwear grow hot with a spurt of pee. Her muscles were completely broken down and defeated. Her bladder was pulsating, throbbing as it tried to expel even more of the ocean thrashing about inside. The only thing left for Madison was the pure will, the thought that she was 18 years old and there was simply NO WAY that she was going to have an accident like this. But the wet underwear clinging to her told a different story. Another sharp spasm and she felt more pee flood out, the warm spot beneath her shorts expanding. By now the opponent with the ball was approaching, so Madison attempted to retreat. Her tiptoed, backwards shuffle looked nothing like a useful defensive stance, but with the ball and the lead the other team was content to bleed the clock. The opponent dribbled in place past halfcourt while Madison stood back near the three-point line, shivering with dread. She felt her bladder erupt again, this time for long enough to send a stream down the inside of her left leg. She stood slack-jawed, while the opponent's hypnotizing dribble gave her all the time in the world to process the fact that she was peeing her pants right here on the court. She managed to cut off the flow, kind of. A slow trickle continued, cutting right through the saturated fabric of her underwear and down her leg. In a flash, the opponent took off toward the basket. Madison instinctively slid her feet, but even if she wasn't losing control of her bladder she'd have been helpless to stop the much quicker guard. A huge explosion of pee cascaded out as she tried in vain to turn and catch up. It slowed down for a split-second as the entire Wildcats defense converged on the lane, but it was too late. Madison was powerless to stop it as it rose back to a powerful stream of hot pee. She felt like she was peeing with enough force to break glass and it was all pouring right into her underwear and staining her light blue shorts. The dark spot grew bigger and bigger as the opponent took her pick of now-open teammates. The eruption of pee went on, soaking Madison's socks and filling her shoes. Amidst all the noise Madison could hear her own urine splashing loudly onto the ground. In a panic, Madison took off running the opposite direction. She passed halfcourt, still gushing pee into her shorts and leaving a trail of pee in her wake. She looked back and saw that the shot had been missed and there was a scrum for the loose ball. She wanted to run back and try to help but she felt beyond useless. Her team was playing for history and she was completely wetting herself. She wanted to find somewhere to hide but all her feet could do is bring her back to the corner she'd been in last time down the court. She felt the stream start to slow down but just as she processed that she started trembling with the knowledge that she was going to have to face her teammates and have to explain that she was running away from the play because she was having a major accident and just like that the pee came hissing out once more. She'd have to quit basketball, switch schools, change her name, and even that wouldn't be enough to live this down. She finally mustered the courage to look up. Her eyes registered two things: there were three seconds left in the game, and the ball was bouncing directly towards her. Somehow her team had come up with the ball, spotted Madison down the court, and pushed it ahead. One of the opponents was giving chase, but the girl stepped right into the puddle Madison had left at midcourt and flew up into the air before hitting the ground. That left the ball free to make its way to the corner. Two seconds. Madison grabbed it and prayed her muscles would once again listen to her as she hoisted it toward the net. One second left as the ball hung in the air. The buzzer sounded at the exact moment the ball fell through the basket. Swish. Madison turned back. A hundred billion thoughts were racing through her mind and as a result she could process precisely zero of them. Her vision tunneled in on Alyssa racing out from behind the bench and sprinting to halfcourt where she stood over the opponent who had slipped. Alyssa whipped out an imaginary fishing pole and cast it toward the puddle, turning and giving Madison the world's biggest smile.
  2. At long last it's here. The next chapter. The final chapter? Well. It's a week before I head back to college. This is where I'd do my recap -- my "What I did on my summer vacation" entry. But fuck that. Maybe I'll get around to it but there's one thing and one thing only I'm going to remember. What did I do on my summer vacation? I watched a girl valiantly try to hold back a torrential monsoon of pee before finally losing control and drenching her underwear, her legs, her shoes. And, since this is a private blog nobody* will ever lay eyes on, I'll say it: it was the hottest goddamn thing I've ever seen. * Note to the poor lackey at Google or the NSA tasked with spying on me: sorry for the spoilers, dude. Maybe some details here are wrong. Maybe my mind filled in some blanks in a particular way. Maybe I caught a rough case of COVID and this was all a fever dream. But I really don't think so. I've replayed the night in my head a billion times and seeing it again now is just as vivid as when it happened three weeks ago. So here it is. It started because I needed to pee. We'd spent the day at Kinnakeet Point which is this little beach just off the road, halfway between the town we were staying in and the next one down. At night, in a little alcove of the dunes, it turns into The Outer Banks' Hottest Restaurant. Okay, not really, it was just a guy and a son serving roadside barbecue. But it was actually nice! Their restaurant at home was still closed with the pandemic restrictions so they just set up shop here. String some lights, fold out a few tables, fire up the grill... sell bottles of water for $2 each even though the whole case was clearly bought at Costco for, what, $4? Is that legal? I call bullshit. Anyway. I had brought my running gear with me and went in the late afternoon. Didn't get back until my family was packing up on the beach and getting ready to walk over to what I guess technically qualifies as a restaurant. So I swapped my running shorts for my bathing suit dove into the water to wash off the sweat, toweled off, and changed again into my my dinnerwear, also known as a pair of basketball shorts. I pulled off both changes with my towel wrapped around my waist, so I'm basically a ninja. And right after drying off and changing is when I had to pee. Timing is everything. So I helped bring stuff up to the car and walked over to the small wooden shack next to the parking lot where there were bathrooms. I passed by a guy in a polo shirt and baseball cap who was whistling as he twirled a set of keys in his hand. He didn't fit the beach vibe but I didn't think much of it until I pulled on the bathroom door. Nothing. It quickly fell into place. That was the park ranger. Those were the keys for the bathroom. Aaaaand there they go -- I looked back and saw his car turning out of the parking lot onto the road. Great. If people were staying to eat shouldn't the bathrooms have stayed open? (Yes, as it turned out, they should have.) In the moment I cursed him but now I think I owe him for thinking that Wednesday was Tuesday and the restaurant-slash-price-gouging syndicate would be closed and locking up the bathrooms accordingly. So I looked left. I looked right. Nobody. I set up on the edge of the platform, facing the dunes, and pulled it out. I started peeing. Ahhhhhh. Ten seconds, twenty seconds, thirty seconds... it tapered off and I shook out the last few drops and pulled up the waistband, then turned around to walk back. "Oh! Sorry!" There she was. How long had she been there? No idea. How much did she see? Dunno. What I remember thinking, and I'm not super proud of this, was: damn, she's beautiful. I don't want my first thought about someone to be a judgment like that. Lord knows girls aren't tripping over themselves to catch a glimpse when my scrawny ass walks by. I really do believe that a person's beauty is not defined by their appearance. But when it's been six months of seeing the same faces over and over, I can't be faulted for my lizard brain taking over. And I don't mean she was supermodel hot. Which, don't get me wrong, would have been fantastic in its own right. But she was about my age. She was tall, almost to my height with her platform shoes. Cute face. Lovely pear-shaped body, the sort of chubby that my friends would dismiss as too fat and I'd nod along and agree and then spend the rest of the night secretly admiring. And this isn't biased by what happened next. I swear I loved those legs long before they were glistening with rivulets of pee. If she was dressed to impress, it was working. She had on a pale pink sleeveless dress that fit snugly around her chest. A lace bodice sat on today of the rounded neckline so it's not like she was totally showing off. The A-line skirt sat midway down her milky thighs, tanned just a bit from half a week's vacation. So anyway, this girl -- oh, her name is Zoe, that's going to be easier than calling her "this girl" the whole time -- was standing there. And, well, there's only one reason someone would have walked up this way. "Are they...?" She gestured at the doors to the bathroom. "Oh. Yeah. That guy from the park was closing them up just before I got here. And I had to go, so... yeah." "Is he coming back?" I think she immediately realized what a pointless question that was. How should I know? I shrugged apologetically. This is when I first thought, oh, wow, this girl might have to pee kinda bad! The way she was standing, shifting ever so subtly, legs locked tight instead of natural and loose. Hey, I told you I'm a sucker for long legs. "Yeah, sorry, I dunno." She pursed her lips and looked around, giving off just enough frustration to confirm my suspicion. She hadn't walked up here as a courtesy, as a "might as well." She was here because she needed the bathroom. Only it was locked. In the moment I was thinking I'd like to talk with her, get to know her. You know, the stuff I never I do when it comes to girls. But I also figured that she'd come to same conclusion I did a minute ago and find some place she could pee. I gave her another shrug as I walked past to give her a modicum of privacy. It was when I heard her footsteps following behind that everything set in. I didn't just want to get to know her. I wanted to spend the whole night staring at her, tracking her every movement as her bladder grew ever more full. First it would tease her into swaying, shifting, re-adjusting. But soon it would bully her and force her to dip a hand between her tightly crossed thighs to hold it back. I wanted to see her fidget in her seat, legs jiggling with nervous spirit. I can honestly say in my first 19 years on Earth I never gave this a second thought. But something sparked in my brain and now it was all I could fixate on. I took a deep breath and slowed my stride. Clearly I was getting ahead of myself. It all made for a good fantasy but surely that's all it would be. I gave her a smile and said hi as she caught up, and the wild thoughts went away, or at least into hibernation. She seemed receptive, maybe just as happy as I was to have a real, actual, in-person conversation with someone my age. I learned she was a year younger than me and here with her family from New Jersey, not too far from where I go to college. It was her sister's 16th birthday and this was the dress she'd bought months ago for a party that had to be canceled. She'd spent all afternoon with her mom baking a cake, which they'd brought along. I made my price gouging joke. She laughed and I fought the urge to give myself a high-five. And then we were back at the tables. Before my internal debate about whether it'd be weird to ask for her Instagram could reach a resolution we said goodbye and I went to my family's table and she to hers. One empty seat at my table faced the chef's area, the other faced Zoe's table. Easy choice. I spotted an empty water in front of her seat, which made me think two things. One, that's why my joke was such a hit. She got it. I mean, seriously, two dollar--okay, I'll stop. But two, she has to pee and she recently downed a whole bottle of water? I was captivated. I still didn't know why, exactly, but I was. The idea that this would all end the way it did wasn't yet on my mind. Why would it be? For the moment I was still sorting through my feelings, diagnosing why it was I couldn't stop glancing over and thinking about that water filtering into bladder, filling it up, no doubt preoccupying her thoughts as well as mine. It's not like I was getting much of a show over the next thirty minutes. Occasionally she'd rest a hand in her lap, or casually cross one leg over the other. Things I wouldn't have noticed and, if not for what followed, things I would've convinced myself were not the subtle motions of a girl needing to pee so bad she was trying to will open the lock with her mind. Then it flipped. Maybe the need to go compounded fast and the tame tugs for attention from her bladder quickly turned to a rebellious mandate. Maybe her capacity to keep it casual had worn down. Probably both. But now when I looked up her legs were knotted tightly. She was disengaged from the conversation happening at her table and her wandering eyes caught mine. I offered a polite smile and she returned it. But her's didn't fully mask the strain her cheeks carried. I savored the next few minutes out of my peripheral vision. Any second she'd get tired of holding all that pee inside and get up and find somewhere private. She drummed her fingers on the table. She tapped her toes on the sand. She fiddled with the bottom of her skirt, pulling it up and giving me the best view yet of her legs. But she didn't get up. The once-passive leg crossing turned combative. Right leg on top, left leg on top, right leg again. Each time she sat up straight against the back of her chair then returned to a concentrated lean forward. Both hands now rested on top, each hand cupping the other wrist and turning them this way and that. God this girl had to pee! And it was becoming less of a secret by the second. But she was too shy or too stubborn to find somewhere to squat and go, so all this bouncing, squirming, fidgeting was her only weapon. I was completely ignoring my family and what was left of my food at my own table. They were props, useful for a quick glance if I thought Zoe was going to look up and see me. I saw her let out a long sigh and look back up toward the bathroom. She slid her chair back and stood up, saying something to her family. Even for this short moment she couldn't be still. Her hands planted on the table while her hips swayed. She pushed her chair back in and took a step. Ah well. It was nice while it lasted. But she didn't walk toward the path to the bathrooms. She was coming over this way. I took a bite of food as she passed our table, projecting as much disinterest as I could while she disappeared behind me. After a beat I turned in my chair, pretending to stretch my back. Real smooth, right? But it worked, and I saw her talking to the older of the two chefs, who, with the cooking done, was smoking a cigarette. I couldn't make out what she said, but his voice was loud enough in response. "Don't have an extra key, sorry," he said. "They're supposed to be open, are you sure?" She said something and he spoke again. "Alright, I'll give him a call." It wasn't over after all. I painted a picture in my mind of how Zoe was standing during all this. Just the slightest bit wobbly, her center of balance thrown off by a bladder that was filled to the brim and shutting down her ability to stand up fully straight. For all I know she was perfectly fine, but... Big voice again. "Hey, it's Lou ... Yeah ... Yeah, I was calling to see if you're still close, I think you mighta locked up by mistake. ... Nah, it's fine, I just know some of these guys drove a long way to get here so before they leave they might wanna ... Yeah, perfect. Thanks." "He'll be here in about fifteen minutes. Right when we're gonna have that cake your mom brought." She reappeared in my vision and took her seat again, stone-faced. Her icy stare was frozen but the rest of her could not keep still. Her toe tapped, her legs bounced, her hands clasped and fiddled. If she was trying to meditate the urge away it didn't seem to be working. It took me too long to realize I should've noted the time. Had it been two minutes or ten? I had been too caught up in new favorite show to notice. Loud clanging from behind me interrupted my train of thought. I reluctantly peeled my eyes off her and turned to see it was the chef knocking his tongs on the grill. "Good evening," he began. "I just wanted to thank you all for being here tonight and I hope you enjoyed the food. I'm not much of a dessert guy so usually this is the part of the night where we hand out ice cream bars from our cooler but tonight we've got a special treat." He paused to build the suspense. "With us tonight is Erin Crosby, who runs a bakery up north not too far from me. Best bagels in the whole state, for my money. And Erin, I understand a new location should be on the way soon so if you're at the Jersey shore next summer be sure to stop by The So-So Dough Co." He gestured over to the table I'd been observing all night. The woman, Zoe's mom, gave a gracious wave. "Anyway, her daughter Paige is celebrating her 16th birthday and they've made a colossus of a cake and there's enough for everybody. Of course if you'd prefer not for any reason we do have ice cream bars available, but I know Erin's baking and, trust me, you're gonna want the cake." I turned back to look once again in Zoe's direction but her chair was empty. I looked around and saw her just disappearing up the path to the bathroom. I was about to bolt out of my chair and follow her, but I stopped myself. If she'd seen her hero arrive to unlock the bathrooms then that was the end of it. And if she'd finally gotten so desperate that she was racing up there to pee outside, privately, well, she deserved that chance, right? I decided I'd wait three minutes and then go up. The first minute I didn't get my hopes up. The second minute I started to daydream about her waiting, all alone to do whatever she could to hold it in. When the third minute was almost up and there was so sign of her I was exhilarated by my good fortune. This beautiful girl was still dying to pee, still too willful or too modest to do it outside. Three minutes. That was fair, right? If I walked up and she happened to be mid-stream, that's not on me. Besides, this whole thing had started with her walking up on me like that. Deciding I was morally in the clear I pushed my chair back just as a plate with a slice of cake was set in front of me. It sure looked good. I excused myself and headed up the path. I turned the corner and there she was, facing the bathroom door as if it would magically open any second. She was rising up onto one tiptoe then another, legs pressed tightly together. I stopped for a moment to take it in. Hours ago I hadn't known her; now she was the girl of my dreams, filled to the brim with pee that she seemed determined to hold in. My footsteps didn't seem to register with her. I cleared my throat from a distance so as not to startle her by suddenly being right next to her. "Hey," I said. She turned slowly, as though each movement had to be calculated. "Hey," she said, lips pursed tightly. She froze her legs for a second. But only a second. One knee buckled and one thigh pinched over top the other. "He's coming back to open these?" I didn't have to pee at all, of course, but I did need to establish a reason for being there. "He's supposed to," she said with an air of exasperation. Now she was bouncing at her knees, butt stuck out. She was clearly out of energy to devote to disguising it. All that pee swishing around inside of her was tormenting her, pounding on her to let it go. "Are you... okay?" I asked, trying to sound sympathetic. "I'm fine," she replied quickly, then slightly shook her head. "I just have to pee. Like, really bad." The way her voice shook an octave on that last part practically short-circuited my brain. This was incredible. I couldn't even think of a response. "I'm such an idiot," she said with a sigh. "What?" "I just... my parents surprised us with this dinner. I thought we were just picking something up and going back home." "Well," I shrugged. "You're dressed more for this than for takeout." "I know, but I was just about to use the bathroom when we..." she trailed off and looked uncomfortable. "Sorry, we don't have to talk about it. Do you just wanna..." I pointed over to where she'd seen me peeing earlier. "I can go down and make sure no one comes up." "No," she said, almost wistfully. It was like she wanted to but something was holding her back. She let out a sigh. Not a relaxed sigh. A frustrated sigh through a tight chest. Her cadence was quickening. "It's fine. I was just going to use the bathroom at home before we left, but then my sister was like I can't be the only one wearing my dress, so I had to go and put this on and then my mom was rushing me out but since I thought we were gonna be back quickly it didn't see like a big deal." I tried my best to hide how wonderful it was to get the rundown. Zoe was bouncing, jiggling, twisting, turning, doing whatever she could. There was no quelling the titanic longing for relief but she tried anyway. I felt bad it was plying out this way for her, but it's not like I didn't offer her some privacy... Maybe change the subject? "Your mom's the one who made the cake, right?" I asked. "It looks really good." "We made it together," Zoe said. She was gritting her teeth just to be able to speak. "It took like the whole afternoon which is another reason..." She rose up all the way to her tiptoes again and let out a deep exhale before coming back down, hunched at the waist. She really had been holding it for hours and now her bladder was bursting so bad it seemed to have gravitational pull, a supernova of excruciating throbbing. She bit down on her bottom lip, hard. "Where is he? God!" she exlaimed. I looked over my shoulder as if that would summon him. Nope. She paced around, clearly unable to hold still for a second. Then I heard footsteps on the wooden planks. Zoe looked up, hopeful her savior with the key had arrived. Instead she blushed even deeper when she saw who it was. "Mom?!" she asked incredulously, her thighs grinding together as she balled up her fists. I turned and gave a very awkward wave to the woman coming near. She opened her mouth to say something but noticing her daughter's all-out pee dance locked her brain for a moment. "He's not here yet?" Zoe shook her head no, bouncing on her knees and blushing as she avoided eye contact. "Why don't you just... go?" her mom asked. It was the same question I had. "Yeah, I can leave, seriously!" I offered. I didn't want to go anywhere, of course. I wanted to see how this all ended. But only as an observer, not a participant. If my presence was what was stopping her... "No, it's-- it's fine," she said, but her wavering voice could not possibly have sounded less convincing. This battle was personal to her, a fight not just against her achingly full bladder but against her principles. The former seemed to be winning because now she was folding up: bent at the knees, bent at the waist. The three of us stood there. I didn't know what to say. Her mom didn't know what to say. And if Zoe knew what to say we'd surely never find out because she couldn't spare the energy to speak. The rustling of her ceaseless squirming rose above the white noise of the ocean. Her thighs had to be burning not just with the unmerciful tension of her hold but from the friction of how tightly they rubbed together, back and forth. "What time is it?" Zoe finally asked, each word from the back of her throat, lips hardly moving. "Uh, 7:45," her mom replied. Zoe threw her arms out wide in frustration, palms turned up. But only for a moment. Her bladder must have roared because she quickly pulled them back inwards toward her waist. She stopped just short of jamming a hand between her legs, freezing them in balled-up fists just in front as she fully crossed them. "He said fifteen minutes, it's been like thirty!" She threw her head back and looked up to the heavens like she was pleading for her prayers to be answered. For the door to unlock so she could run inside and, at long last, free herself from agony and release alllllll that pee. She uncrossed her legs but her knees clattering together made her reconsider and she crossed them once more. Her hands were still inches away from her weary pee hole. A wave seemed to hit her and she flinched. Her body was starting to tap out. The temptation was too great and she shoved her hand between her legs, bunching up the fabric of the dress. "Come ON!" she hollered aloud. I wondered how in the world she was keeping her underwear dry at this point. Maybe she isn't, I thought. And off my mind went again, filled with the mental image of her underwear growing wet with drip after drip of pee pushing past her tiring defenses. An unmistakable feeling of warmth between her legs. Still unwilling to admit defeat even as her pee hole gave in again and again and sent jets of pee sizzling into her panties. "Zoe," her mom started again. "I really think you should--" "Mom, stop!" she wailed. Then a second later under her labored breath. "Stop, oh god, stop!" She doubled over and shoved both hands deliriously between her legs. "Stop, I'm not...!" Her wrists shook so hard that even her tightly wrapped thighs were quaking too, or perhaps that was happening separately, jolt after jolt of excruciating pressure pummeling her poor, tortured pee hole into submission. Her mouth opened as if to gasp but no sound escaped. Her eyes shut and she dropped her head. The jittering in her legs reached her calves and her heels started clattering loudly up and down against the planks. "Zoe, not right here... your dress!" her mom called out. Zoe lifted her head but was already shaking it "no." A garbled groan escaped through her clenched teeth. "It's......" was all she managed to say. I filled in the rest: It's too late. She was peeing herself. I didn't know it but I knew it. She pulled her hands out from between her legs. "Hohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh my god," she moaned, her voice quivering. She was feeling her underwear grow hot with the pee that she'd fought so, SO hard to contain, but it was happening right here, right now. In front of me. In front of her mom. She was processing a billion emotions but in that moment it was the unbelievable relief that trampled all else. And then I saw it, a thin yellow stream flowing down where one leg met the other, still crossed. I watched it rush off and splatter onto the boardwalk below and by the time I looked back up it was a waterfall, flooding both legs as it all raced down. Some trickled off her legs in the front while a whole other river of pee gushed down the back. With a gasp she spread her legs and it converged into one soaking wet flood from beneath her skirt. Her wrists were held out stiff, fingers spread open, lips moving but not a sound coming out. It was easy enough to lip-read: "Oh my god, oh my god, ohmygod!" The pee splashed loudly onto the boardwalk below. It was so much, so quickly that it even puddled up ever so slightly before dripping through. Her legs glistened in the dim light as it flowed relentlessly. The fabric of the dress fluttered and fell into the stream, absorbing some and causing the rest to splash back on her thighs. She finally unfroze to lift her dress out of the way and I saw her lilac-colored underwear, so saturated the pee gushed through it like it wasn't there. Her legs looked like they wanted to run but they were spent and could do nothing as the pee splashed off. Zoe finally regained her wits and covered her mouth with both hands, looking first at her mom in a panic then over at me before quickly reaching down and pulling her skirt back down. My eyes locked on the wet stain on the front. My heart felt like jumping out of my chest. That was the most amazing thing I've ever seen but I suddenly felt some intense secondhand embarrassment. Her mom was walking over to comfort her. It was time to split. I turned and fought the impulse to look back every step of the way, to catch one more glimpse of this amazing girl who'd given me the show of a lifetime. I got back to my table and kept my gaze trained on the path, waiting for them to return, wondering what I'd see. But they never did come back for that cake. The rest of the family soon took off for the parking lot and what I can only assume was a very awkward ride home. EPILOGUE It was happening again. The line poured out of the lobby and snaked around the building, a long train of nervous freshmen with their families and belongings waiting to move into the dorm and begin a new chapter. Zoe had fallen asleep the night before only after slaying the dragons of a dozen worries. Will I make friends? What if being roommates with Allie ruins our friendship? What if the whole campus closes down because of COVID and I have to come right back home? None of that registered right now. The only thing she felt right now hadn't even crossed her mind as she tossed and turned last night. It was the same pit in her stomach from vacation. The emotional baggage she was sure she'd left behind a month ago. It was that agonizing, excruciating, outright dire need to pee. The swollen bladder, the thumping waves of pressure hammering away as she fought endlessly to hold it back. The line inched forward and Zoe did her best to keep it together. She wanted to double over in agony and grab between her legs with both hands. It took all she had to not do that. Her family had long ago caught on but she silently prayed that everyone else -- her future dorm-mates and colleagues -- was too engrossed in their own worlds to notice the leg crossing, the knee twitching, and the thigh jiggling of a girl so overwhelmingly desperate to pee that she wanted to scream. Her head was pounding and she could hardly take in the encouragement from her mom and her sister. "Just a little longer, keep holding it, Zoe." "Come on, you got this." She certainly couldn't respond to it with any more than a slight nod, and even for that she needed to bite her lip. Her light blue jeans hugged her legs. Not a pleasant hug. More like a boa constrictor, squeezing on her thighs and her butt as her ballooning bladder pressed against the front. A deep breath to relax was out of the question. Through her tight chest it was a surprise that any breathing was happening at all. The line was lurching forward with the lobby now in sight. Zoe's bladder was under attack and it was fighting back. Every thread of energy she could muster was sent as a reinforcement but with each passing second her tired, tortured pee hole was closer to giving in and opening up for the cascade of hot pee she was holding back to gush out and put an end to the agony. She bounced up and down, a herky-jerky necessity to keep her underwear dry. Even her own mind was starting to admit defeat, bargaining. What if she just let go for a few seconds and peed just enough to make it bearable again? So what, her panties would get wet? So what, it might show through to her jeans and someone would see? So what, she'd forever know that on the day she moved into college... a day that was supposed to be a spiritual marker of her ascent into a new, more grown-up period of her life... on THAT day she'd had an accident in her underwear? Yeah, that wasn't an option. Besides, she was only about 30% confident she'd actually be able to stop it once it started. They were so close to the front of the line. The dreadful sensation spread over her body the same way it did on her vacation. Time was up and there wasn't a damn thing she could do to stop it. No. She shook her head with a steely resolve. Vacation was vacation, this was different. She was going to make it, she had to. Her jaw was clenched so hard that it ached. Zoe couldn't stand the thought of once again losing control and having an accident. Of succumbing to the fiery desire of relief. Of failing. The only thing worse than starting her college life off with the childish battle to keep her panties dry would be losing it. The struggle had worn down her senses. Her hearing was muffled, her vision blurry, and her touch dull. The group ahead of them in line entered the building. Zoe and her family would be next. She finally dug her hand between her legs, certain that whoever was behind her could plainly see that this desperate potty dance was the only thing preventing a puddle. Time was abstract. Had it been an hour in line or 20 minutes? Zoe had no idea but in the back of her head she knew she was down to seconds, not minutes, remaining. Her thighs wrapped tightly around her fingers which pressed up hard to keep her pee hole clenched. The door opened and an arm waved them inside. She opened her mouth to ask about a bathroom but nothing came out. Everything was still blurry, and getting dark despite the lighting of the dorm lobby. Other students and staff bustled around but her mind couldn't process anything except finding a way to suppress the tempest inside her. Every last muscle was strained to its limit and still Zoe felt the rush of pee on the very tip of her hole. And then, for just a moment, the urge went away completely. Wait, why can't I talk? Or hear, or see...? Can you black out from having to pee this bad? But the unbearable stinging was already back before she could think on it. Literally, she could not bear it and her vulva shivered in despair, actively betraying her and trying to force open the dam. She felt herself moving in the direction of the bathroom but her legs were so numb from fatigue that she wasn't even positive she was walking. But the toilet came into view like an oasis in the desert. Zoe sprinted -- or floated, or teleported, she couldn't be sure -- over and unbuttoned her jeans and ripped them down, hooking her thumbs inside her underwear to get it all in one swoop. She collapsed backwards onto the toilet and before her mind could even give her bladder permission to relax a fiery torrent of hot yellow pee exploded out of her. Zoe felt her senses returning. She relaxed her chest and let out a long, audible sigh of relief as she continued blissfully peeing. She could see more clearly and looked down to see her underwear remained dry. Her thighs that had been blazing in distress now felt the tranquil tickle of harmony. Feeling almost weightless she pursed her lips, the ahhhhhh of the sigh turning to a gratifying mmmmmmm. It wasn't just the relief of finally peeing, it was the triumph. She thought about the rest stop, the ocean, the beach. The times she hadn't been able to hold it and the bleak, cold feeling that followed. This was just the opposite. Her legs and her butt tingled with the bright, warm glow of success. All along Zoe knew that girl who peed herself three times on vacation wasn't really who she was. Whatever doubt existed had to go away now. She'd have to work on not getting herself into such a situation again, but in a major way she was glad it had gone this way. She'd valiantly held it, and held it, and held it entire time. She'd made it the toilet. She hadn't had an accident. She won. The last few drops of pee trickled out of her but she didn't get up. She basked in the moment, savoring the satisfaction, the peace, the warmth... the warmth... Zoe's eyes shot open. Her bedroom was still dark. Bags and boxes dotted the floor, all ready to be driven up to college later that morning. Under the covers her pajamas were soaked, clinging to her skin from her waist down to her knees. Her lower lip twitched as the dread set in like a stake to the heart. The sheets squished as she rolled over and pressed her face into the pillow before the tears could start. The existential crisis she thought she'd toppled ten seconds ago thundered back. She hadn't won. She didn't know who she was. The only thing she knew was that she'd just thoroughly, completely wet the bed. *** Thanks for reading. As always, any and all feedback is appreciated. This is the end of the vacation story. It may not be the end of Zoe's story (or Erin's... Or Paige's?). Given my snail's writing pace it'll be a while, though. Until then...
  3. Well now it just looks like I was fishing for compliments but thank you both! And serious props to Kayn for this story which was just as good on a re-read.
  4. Just wanted to say I absolutely hated this story and I'm sorry I ever read it.... because now I know nothing I write will ever be this good. Seriously, I loved it. Instant all-timer as far as I'm concerned.
  5. Sorry to bump this with a non update but a few have asked. I've started and stopped writing twice which probably means the idea I have isn't going to work. So I'm back to the drawing board and it's going to be a little while before I have something. Thanks as always for following along.
  6. Here is the next chapter... or interlude... it's sort of longer like a chapter but more lightly edited like an interlude. Let's just call it the next installment. Fair warning, it is an omorashi-themed sex scene so if that's not your thing now's the time to back out. It's admittedly not my usual thing either but I wanted to step outside my comfort zone and take a swing at it. Let me know what you think! *** While her daughter was out in the ocean dealing with a secret accident, Erin sat reclined in a beach chair underneath the umbrella. This was bliss of the sort she'd not felt in months. Running a small business while supervising remote schooling for three teenagers during a pandemic was no picnic. Her husband Kevin worked as an accountant and his busy season would normally end in April, but with tax deadlines extended and clients more anxious and demanding than ever, he was putting in long weeks right up until they'd left. A spy thriller novel was open on her lap but she hadn't read a word in twenty minutes. Her body was pleasantly warm from the air while the umbrella shielded her from the harsh noon sunlight. She took a long sip of her cold seltzer and let the chill tickle her throat down through her esophagus and into her stomach, where it would quickly warm up and be processed. In the back of her mind she was sorting through the particulars of Paige's birthday tomorrow. There'd be a cake to bake, decorations to hang, and other preparations to make it special. But those were the fun sorts of challenges, not the dreadful concerns that had taken over these last few months. In the front of her mind was the obvious result of that seltzer, and the one she'd had before: her filling bladder. And, of course, the underwear she'd stained yesterday morning when she hadn't quite been able to hold it all in. She wasn't anywhere close to that sort of urgency now, but her pelvic muscles were engaged and could feel the organ expanding inside. Sitting in her floral patterned one-piece, it'd be easy enough to join Zoe and Paige in the water and pee it all out, but then she'd be in the sun, and then she'd have to towel off... no, she decided, I'm just gonna stay right here. Her frantic dash to the bathroom while in the midst of soaking her panties wasn't a fond memory, but it also wasn't revolting. Now a day removed from the accident and not at immediate risk of completely flooding her pants and making a puddle on the hallway floor in front of Zoe she could take a holistic view. Was it embarrassing? Yeah, sure. She'd drank too much coffee and started wetting herself 20 feet from the bathroom. That wasn't great. But she'd also pushed three kids out of her body and if her pelvic muscles weren't a stone cold vice grip anymore, well, that's just life, right? Her real focus was on the frenzied drive home and the frantic wait on the porch. In the moment she'd felt distressed, nervous but as she thought about it now... her ears burned as her bladder sent up another signal. She couldn't quite pinpoint the feeling. She'd certainly never robbed a bank or swam with sharks but those were the scenes that flashed in her mind. It was a lot more exhilarating than her spy thriller, that was for sure. She thought about her old friend Amber and a bitterly cold November night in college. It was their housemate Shannon's 21st birthday, the last of the group to hit the milestone. They celebrated first at their house, counting down the hours and minutes until midnight when they could all get into a bar together. Nobody in the house was a huge partier. Erin could have a good time but she was The Responsible One, the only one with a boyfriend. Amber was more social, and the combination of her friend's birthday and a successful physics exam that afternoon had her feeling extra festive. Erin already needed to pee by the time they got to the bar, and Amber was at least two drinks ahead of her. They celebrated with a round of shots, then another, then Erin switched to sipping slowly on a Long Island iced tea. Her urge to go was getting pretty bad, enough to make her consider queuing up for the icky college bar bathrooms or, better yet, call it a night and head back to the house. She put her coat on and started to say goodbye. Amber was having none of that. "It's Shannon's BIRTHDAY!" she squealed. "Oh! What about Olde Queens?" she asked, referencing another bar. Within two minutes she'd convinced the whole group to come along and they stepped outside. "All right, I'll come," Erin said. "But I need to pee first." "Me too," Shannon said. Some others agreed. "We'll find somewhere on the way," one said. They walked down a block and a half before Erin felt another strong pang in her bladder. She stopped and glanced down the alley. She might be the boring, responsible one but she wasn't a prude. "I seriously have to pee," she told the group. "I'm just gonna go here, make sure nobody comes down." The birthday girl followed her and, confident they were deep enough in the shadows, pulled down their pants and squatted down. The cold air gave Erin goosebumps on her bare butt and thighs and instantaneously she released her hold, gushing out a steamy torrent of pee against the frigid asphalt. She sighed pleasantly as she emptied herself, free from the aching pulses. Her stream outlasted Shannon's by a good twenty seconds before it tapered off. She pulled up her pants and felt her underwear absorb the last of the droplets while she walked back. Some of the other girls were going to wait until they got to the next bar to go, but Amber was noticeably more desperate, bouncing around on her toes. It clearly wasn't just the cold weather, or the inebriation. The girl had to PEE. "You want me to look out while you go?" Erin asked. "No," Amber replied, several decibels louder than necessary. "I'm gonna hold it!" Erin gave her a quizzical look. "What?!" Amber exclaimed. "It feels GOOD!" She looked around, like she was expecting backup. "Tell her, Shannon! Doesn't it feel good?" Shannon looked back at Amber, straightfaced at first before snorting with laughter. "What are you talking about?" "It feels GOOD!" she repeated. "Haven't you ever..." Amber looked around, and even in her drunken state realized she'd perhaps overshared a bit. "Whatever!" she exclaimed while the rest of the group laughed. Back on the beach, Erin smiled. Maybe all these years later she finally understood what Amber was saying. She could detect just the faintest tingling sensation underneath the pressure of her filling bladder. She looked over at Kevin and raised her eyebrows, then looked back up the beach at their rental house. Kevin took the headphones out of his ears and looked back at the house too, then at Erin. He shrugged and gave her a look: maybe. He subtly pointed at their son Chase, lying on a beach blanket and looking at his phone. Erin shot a look back: he'll stay here. She nodded at Kevin. He nodded back and stood up. "Hey, Chase, mom and I are gonna go up to the house and, ah, get some stuff for dinner ready. You good to hang here?" "Yeah," Chase said, not even looking up from his phone. "Let your sisters know when they come up from the water, okay? And... stay out here as long as you guys want!" Erin rose from her beach chair and felt the weight of her bladder push down. She definitely needed to pee... and she was definitely getting turned on. It wasn't a direct cause-and-effect, but it helped. The prospect of having a house to themselves for the first time in months was exciting enough on its own. Kevin cupped her hand with his while they walked on the boardwalk over the dunes back to their house. Erin entered the door code -- it was 8218, now permanently burned in her memory -- and the couple went inside. For the last four months all they'd known was organized chaos, a full house of remote work and school and not a moment's peace. But right now there was only the dim white noise of the air conditioning. Erin gave a look toward the bathroom off the hallway. She remembered one other piece of drunken wisdom from Amber that night, inelegantly dispensed as she was anxiously dancing around in the line for the bathroom at the second bar. "If I think a guy is gonna be a bad fuck then I don't pee before," she told Erin. "It makes it better for me at least." "What, like if you have to go this bad?" Amber paused for a minute and looked down. She was bent slightly at the waist and the knees, with one fist balled up and pushing on her upper thighs. "No," she conceded. "Not this bad." Erin walked past the bathroom in the rental house and started upstairs. She had to go but she wasn't squirming-around desperate. She also didn't expect the sex to be bad at all, but the idea of holding it was intriguing. Maybe Amber was right and she'd been missing out all this time. "You coming?" she was halfway up the stairs but Kevin was still in the kitchen. He picked up a cutting board. "What? I thought we were prepping stuff for dinner," he said, feigning innocence. Erin slipped one shoulder strap off, then the other. Her bathing suit stayed up on her body and she made sure Kevin was watching as she made a big show about starting to peel it off. "Guess I'll have all the fun myself, then," she teased, taking two more steps up. Kevin dropped the act and followed behind, catching up near the top of the stairs and taking a moment to appreciate being eye level with Erin's butt, held perfectly by the fabric of her swimsuit. They reached the top and Erin took three steps toward the bedroom before Kevin threw his arms around her from behind. Erin felt him pressing directly on his bladder and it sent a lightning bolt of pressure down to her pee hole that she had to clench extra hard to keep closed. "Need a hand?" he asked, and pulled down the front of her suit to free Erin's tits. He cupped them in his hands and brought himself against her. She could feel his dick get hard under his bathing suit shorts and press against her. Their bodies had changed in the 20-something years since they'd met but their passion for each other's never wavered. Kevin was a hair over 6 feet tall and lean. When they met in the middle of their freshman year he was thin, a bit scrawny. Erin thought it was cute. He put on some muscle in college and his early 20s. Erin thought that was cute. But as his family and work responsibilities grew he fell out of that habit, down to running a couple times a week if he could and playing beer league softball. Still perfect, Erin thought. Feeling his bulge against her started to really get Erin going. Any college girl can make any horny college boy hard in an instant. But this? She'd birthed three kids, her hips had widened, her stomach got softer, her skin less pure... The fact her figure in a swimsuit after all that still turned him on this much was the sort of passion that Erin treasured more than anything they'd done in college. He kissed the back of her neck while they moved forward, stepping as one into the bedroom. Kevin spun her around and planted his lips on hers while he caressed her back. He pulled away and took a step toward the en-suite bathroom. "I can't fucking wait to be inside you," he whispered. "Just need one minute..." he tailed off and went into the bathroom to take care of his own need to pee. Erin pulled her suit down the rest of the way and stepped out before falling onto the bed. The cool sheet she covered up with soothed her warm skin. Feeling the weight of her bladder even as she was lying down, a seed of doubt planted in her mind. Am I sure this is okay? I'm not going to, like, pee on the sheets once we start, right? She reached a hand down to stroke her pussy, already wet with excitement. Maybe a little test run, she thought, and delicately slid a finger in. It was intense, but she felt good about her hold. Her nerves under tension from her full bladder hummed with pleasure so she slid it back out and entered again with two fingers. Fuck that feels good. She moaned. "Guess you've got this handled," Kevin said, pretending to turn away. "Get in here and fuck me." Say no more. He pulled down his shorts to reveal his engorged cock, stiff enough that it was practically pointing at the ceiling. He threw back the sheet and laid on his side next to Erin, still on her back. He between her legs and swirled his fingers around her lips, surprised by how wet she already was. Skipping the foreplay was fine by him. "You want me?" He kissed her neck. "I need you." She palmed his dick and gave it a long, slow stroke, then another. Kevin rolled and climbed on all fours on top of Erin. "You're so fucking sexy..." he looked down to admire her body and could see her nipples harden. "This is all I wanted all day." "You weren't this hard this morning," he teased him, still rubbing his shaft. They'd cuddled for a few minutes after waking up and he had his morning wood, but this was next level. "That was before I saw you on the beach looking so perfect." Erin released him and reached up to put both hands on his back and pull him down toward her. The weight of his body pressed against her bladder and made her stifle a gasp as it tried to send a sizzle of pee out. Her ears grew hot with the same nervous tension as yesterday. She had to pee for real. All her nerves were vibrating with intense pleasure. She reached for his dick again and pulled it just inside her. Erin moaned as he slowly thrust it forward, filling her up. Her full bladder was pushing everything else around and it all felt tighter and more acute. His tip brushed along her g-spot as he pulled back out and she moaned loudly when he thrust it back in. He left it there for a few seconds, deep inside her. She dug her nails into his back. "Ohh fuck!" she cried out with her eyes closed, silenced by his lips on hers. Her heart rate sped up as they went at it. She couldn't completely give in to the gratification because she had to keep a hold on the ocean of pee inside her, but the focus only heightened the incredible sensation. Her bladder was thumping as they fucked, increasingly in need of relief. Kevin pushed back up off her onto his hands, giving her a moment of reprieve from the weight. Erin bit her lip in the ecstasy of the amazing feeling. The walls of her pussy throbbed with delight each time he thrust his cock in and out. The tight seal she was determined to keep on her urethra was practically setting it ablaze. She was used to how it felt inside, and used to her clit becoming engorged. All of that was happening now but the feeling of unbridled pleasure swept over the entire area. Erin opened her eyes to see an expression of satisfaction on his face as he continued to move in and out, hastening and slowing the rhythm perfectly. Her clit was fluttering, ready for stimulation. Kevin put his weight back on her and once more her bladder yelped for relief. Erin braced herself and made sure it all stayed inside, jostling her pussy in the most insanely incredible way. She was ready to cum, ready to climax around his penetrating cock. Her clit felt so sensitive, so engorged, so ready that she knew it wasn't going to take much. She reached down for it and just as her fingertip met it and sent a small shiver in all directions, it was pulled away. "Nuh-uh," Kevin told her with a sly smile. "Not yet you sexy little slut!" He gripped her wrist tightly and pinned it down next to her ear. Then he did the same with her other hand. Holy fuck holy fuck holy FUCK. She loved it when he got just a little rough and dirty like that. The kind of thing he wouldn't do or say when they knew the kids were in the house. "OhhhHHHHH!" Erin moaned, her voice turning to a squeak by the end. The move made her torso stretch out and made it that much harder to hold back her pee. Her urethra was shuddering, fighting the battle best it could. Her clit was pulsating, begging for her touch. "You're gonna be a good girl and take it," Kevin barked out as he ran his cock in deep once again. Erin's face flushed and grew hot with passion. She tried to push her hands up but he kept them pressed tightly against the mattress. "Oh yeah! Fuck me! Give me your dick! Ohhhh fffffuck!" A huge contraction hit her bladder and she had to give it everything she had to keep all that hot pee pent up. She panicked for just a second that she was going to lose control and start soaking the sheets. Their safeword popped up in her head. She'd never once used it before but there's a first time for everything, right? An overwhelming throb of pleasure overtook her to shake it from her mind. It felt way too fucking good to stop. She clenched her muscles as hard as she could to keep the seal. His rigid cock continued to penetrate her, hitting every wall inside her like it belonged nowhere else. His breathing got quicker as Erin ran her hands down his back. "Ohhhh yes!" She moaned. "Cum inside me!" Kevin released his hold on Erin's hands and she shoved it straight down to her clit, blissfully stroking it in a small circular motion. This was it. Her bladder felt like it was ready to explode with all that sizzling pee. She tightened her hold one final time, ready for the sweet burst of intense pleasure from her rising climax. She felt his cock flex and pulsate against her and then the warm rush of his load exploding inside her pussy. She gave her clit one final flick and felt the burst of euphoria as her nerves seized in sync. The inner walls of her pussy vibrated and the orgasm rippled through her body from there, passing the usual boundaries. Erin felt it down to her knees which shivered and up to her bladder which shook with equal parts delight and desperation. As Kevin was pulling out Erin's urethra sizzled, a strong rush of pee pushing to the very edge. Breathless from the thrill, her hold slipped for just a second and a forceful torrent of pee shot out, splashing her partner's softening dick and splattering onto the sheet below. "Holy shit, Erin! Did you just..." Kevin looked down in astonishment. "I mean it was intense for me too but I don't think you've ever done that before!" It was true. They'd done some heavy lovemaking over the years but Erin wasn't sure she'd ever climaxed so acutely. She'd certainly never squirted like that. She was speechless. As her skin stopped buzzing and the fog cleared from her head, she felt the ringing urge of the rest of the pee in her swollen bladder. Erin sat up as Kevin climbed off, both careful to position around the darkened circle on the bedding. She wanted to flop back down, ensconce herself in the sheets and revel in the afterglow. But her bladder beckoned and she knew she'd better take care of it. She rolled herself off the bed onto her feet. Before she could start walking to the bathroom, Kevin grabbed her hand. "You," he told her, still catching his breath. "Are fucking amazing." *** I have one more big chapter planned. It's likely going to take me a long time to write and even longer to edit and mold it precisely how I'd like it. So there will be a bit of a break but in the meantime I love reading your comments and interacting with you! So let me know what you thought below. -TR
  7. Thanks! Keeping it grounded in some sense of realism is definitely important to me. I'm glad you haven't found the characters to be too one-dimensional, I do think that's a weak point in my writing. My idea for the next chapter would feature more interaction between the characters but I haven't fully committed to that yet. Thank you :) I do sort of like the rhythm of a long chapter, then an interlude, then a long chapter, etc. As @WiiGuy86 says below, a neverending string of huge accidents doesn't fit well into a series -- when I read a series like that I find myself wishing they were separate one-shots instead. And thanks to you as well. I agree 100% and this is the first series I've written where I feel like I can keep it somewhat fresh. Would you all have any interest if I continued this series outside the whole "vacation" conceit? Obviously there's only so much that can happen in a week's time. Continuing on would open some other doors, but I don't want it to just turn into "now she's desperate in a mall! now she's desperate in a movie theater! now she's desperate in a [spins wheel] restaurant!"
  8. Back again with another interlude. I couldn't get this idea out of my head but it felt tricky to turn it into a full chapter. I've got one idea for a bigger Chapter 3 but right now that's all it is, an idea. In the meantime I do hope you enjoy this shorter story -- let me know! *** Zoe blinked her eyes open and felt it right away. Her bladder was once again howling for relief, stretched out inside of her and starting to pulse with pressure. She really needed to pee. She nodded her head. Good. The plan popped into Zoe's head the last time she'd woken up with the urge, which was 4:45 that morning. As she sat on the toilet and peed vigorously into the porcelain, she decided it was time to take action. There was the accident Sunday afternoon and the two close calls Sunday evening and night. She wanted to believe that would be the end of it, but then yesterday they'd returned from a walk on the beach and she opened the door for her mother who, well... it sure seemed to Zoe that her mom desperately needed to pee as she stumbled her way into the house and made a beeline for the bathroom. Or maybe, Zoe thought, it was another trick of her brain. Whatever the truth was, Zoe felt in the moment that her mom had been stuck there, writhing in frantic agony with a bladder ready to burst, seconds from losing control. And in turn that made Zoe herself feel like she had to pee. It was like her body was hypervigilant since her accident and the sight of a toilet, or the sound of running water, or the presence of someone else needing to go could all set off the alarm. So while her mom raced to the bathroom downstairs Zoe skipped her way up and used the other toilet. The rest of the day was routine until the unwanted wakeup call broke her sleep. She couldn't remember the last time she'd needed to actually get out of bed in the middle of the night to pee. On the rare occasion she woke up she could get herself back to sleep until the morning. But not this time. So the plan took form and by the time she got back in bed she was certain: she was going to pee in the ocean today. Holding it an extra class period instead of asking for a hall pass. Doubling back to the bathroom to pee alone. Trudging up the sand instead of just going through her swim suit. These were parts of her life that did not even register as mild annoyances. So she was pee-shy, so what? She'd heard of some girls who would never use public toilets, or were grossed out by porta-potties. Those didn't bug her too much so long as she had her privacy. For Zoe it wasn't onerous or bothersome, it was just how things were. But today she felt like her bladder needed a reminder: you work for me, not the other way around. So she decided she wouldn't use the bathroom before they set up on the beach and she'd be generous with the water and seltzer once they were there. Falling asleep hadn't been part of the plan, but the white noise of the waves and the salty air lulled her into a slumber. She'd felt a slight twinge when she laid down on the blanket after lunch but it'd grown to a turbulent strain now, the weighty force of her full bladder thrashing about. She hadn't planned on needing to go quite this urgently, but at least now there was no excuse. She sat up, knees bent and angled together, and slipped her pale pink floral cover up off one shoulder, then the other. She pulled the fabric of her burgundy one-piece away from her skin and adjusted her breasts in the cups. Back in the winter at the apex of her race training with her friend Ally, she'd bought her first bikini in years. But after a few months of being cooped up inside with her mom's bagels and pastries and special treats it was back to last summer's outfits for this trip. This suit was flattering enough, at least, cut low along her chest and proportioned well for her wide hips and curvy butt. Her stomach fluttered as she stood up and steadied herself, rocking a bit while her bladder ached for comfort. If this was going to happen, it needed to happen now. She laid her towel out in the sun for when she returned and looked at her family. Perfect. Her dad had his headphones in. Her mom was reading. Her brother was looking at his phone. Her sister was asleep. Just me. She took two steps toward the water. "I'll come too," she heard, and looked back to see her sister pushing onto her feet. I guess Paige wasn't asleep after all. Zoe wasn't thrilled about the company but it'd be easy enough to swim away and have her own space. And besides, with her thighs tight as a vice to hold back her pee, it's not like she could wait much longer. The two of them stepped to the water's edge and waded in. The initial sensation of the cool water on Zoe's ankles sent a jolt of energy up her legs and nearly caused a rush of pee to slip out. Zoe froze for a second and bent over to steady herself. Luckily Paige hadn't noticed, so once Zoe felt safe from any sort of tiny accident she walked in deeper to catch up. You work for me, she told her bladder. Her bladder fought back. By the time she got knee deep the sensation was searing, as if the dam were bursting right here and now. This isn't how it was supposed to go, Zoe thought in a panic. She clumsily dove (read: fell) forward into the water. She kept waiting for the inevitable feeling of the torrent of pee, but it stayed locked inside. Paige looked back after hearing the splash. "Are you okay?" she called. "I'm, yeah, I'm fine," Zoe called back. She wanted to pee, she NEEDED to pee, but this wasn;t how she pictured in. "I just, ah, slipped." She pushed off the sandy bottom and paddled her way out into the deeper water, intentionally angling away from her sister. Her bladder raged, close to the breaking point and ready to contract. Zoe stopped, drew in a deep breath, and spread her legs out to float on the surface. She relaxed as she exhaled, grateful that her plan had come together -- with a few hiccups -- and she could release all that pent-up pee. Nothing came. She felt the stinging of her desperate bladder and longed to let it all go but some invisible force inside her held it back, not about to ruin years and years of conditioning just like that. Zoe closed her eyes, transporting her mind to a quiet bathroom, free to pee in peace. It felt like it was surging through her body in every direction except out. She HAD to pee. Really badly. She WANTED to pee. Really badly. But it stubbornly remained sealed up. She flipped over in the water, treading to stay afloat. Relaxation hadn't worked so she turned to make sure Paige couldn't see and pushed as hard as she could, scrunching her face in concentration. Her bladder felt like it was going to burst through her chest but still not a drip of pee came out. It danced on the very tip of her urethra, desperately begging for relief while her pee-shy body held on tight. It was torture. She tried to relax again. Nothing. She furrowed her brow and tried to push it out again. Nothing. She didn't process the splashing behind her until Paige was just a few feet away. Zoe reset her face as her pussy clammed up. She hadn't been able to release it in solitude, there was no way it was going to happen with her sister looking on. But her need to pee taunted her relentlessly, ravaging her pee hole with wave after wave of pleading torment. Her mind flashed back to the last time she'd peed with her sister so close: two days ago, right into her leggings. "Will you help me do my hair for my birthday tomorrow?" her sister asked. Zoe looked back, determined not to reveal her predicament. "How come?" Zoe asked. "It's not like we can go anywhere." She felt a burning between her legs, a dire warning. This was supposed to be about her taking control but her bladder was calling the shots, twitching and contracting and making Zoe squirm her legs under the water. "I know..." Paige said, a little hurt by her sister's brusque response. "Well, not inside anyway. But mom and dad said we can go a restaurant if we can sit outside, and there's some other outside stuff we can do..." "Yeah," Zoe said. She could tell her sister seemed a bit hurt. Zoe didn't have any issues with doing her sister's hair. Actually, it sounded fun to do something like that for the first time in months. But in the moment she was in anguish and that sensation had shown through. She tried to brighten up. "Of course I'll do your hair. How do you wantitdone?" Zoe's throat tightened and she rushed the end of her question as felt the stinging stop and a torrent of pee explode out of her poor tired pee hole. She opened her lips, about to moan in relief, before catching herself. She could feel the water around her thighs and butt grow warm as she peed with such force it felt like it could propel her up and out of the water. Her attempt to clamp down was easily overrun by the gushing stream of hot pee. There was no slow trickle before the dam burst this time. For the second time she was helplessly, completely peeing herself in front of Paige. The difference this time was that her sister had no idea. It was all coming out well beneath the surface and simply becoming part of the ocean. Paige was replying about how she wanted her hair. But Zoe's instincts kicked in and she shyly turned away. She was peeing in the ocean, sure, that was the plan, but the idea hadn't been to do it by accident with her sister looking on. The relief from her swollen bladder was sweet, though, and she sighed to herself. It was sensory overload and she wasn't actually hearing anything Paige was saying. Finally she ducked her head under the water, the only escape she could think up. All the while she peed forcefully through her suit. When it finally slowed to a dribble she rose back up, exhaling her held breath. Paige looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "You okay?" "I'm fine," Zoe fibbed. "I felt something, uh, brush my foot." Paige studied her sister for another moment. "Weird," she finally said. "Anyway, I was thinking of, like, braids but with some pulled through. I have some pics I can show you and..." Paige continued on while Zoe's pee stream stopped. Deep down, she felt defeated once again by her bladder, like it'd gotten word of her plan and cooked up a counter. Deep down, the fact that it stayed secret and had already been washed away by the water was only a small comfort. Deep down, she knew she'd had a pee accident. Again. *** I hope you enjoyed it - I always love to read all comments and suggestions so fire away below! -TR
  9. Here it is, part 3. I'm happy with how it turned out and had a lot of fun writing it. Comments and suggestions are welcomed and encouraged! They help provide motivation and a spark of creativity when the words aren't flowing easily. Enjoy 🙂 *** Erin Crosby pulled into the parking space a few minutes early. Enough time to freshen up just a bit. She flipped open the vanity mirror. Two cups of coffee earlier took care of the bags under her eyes and even into her forties her face retained much of the youthful sheen. That was a bit at odds with the gray hairs she was spotting more of each day amongst the light brown. Her hairdresser closed during the early days of the pandemic and she'd gotten used to her hair without highlights. She preferred to keep it shorter but without a cut it now swept against her shoulders. She ran a brush through it to tame the waviness best she could, then dabbed on a light layer of foundation and pulled out her mascara but paused. She needed to be set up outside shortly and wanted to grab another cup for the meeting first. Erin went in and took a look around the bakery. This is what she wanted. The shop couldn't have been much bigger than the one she ran back home but the layout was organized, purposeful. The line flowed well and the employees didn't seem cramped behind the counter. The signage was clear and aesthetically pleasing. And most importantly there was a true coffee bar with plenty of bells and whistles. She ordered a cup and admired the store's features while it was made. The one thing she didn't see was a bathroom. She hadn't even purposefully been looking, but it was a natural reaction to her growing need from the two mugs she'd drank before coming here. The lack of a facility wasn't a shock: her shop back home had only a tiny bathroom for use by employees and the rare customer with no choice but to shyly inquire. She checked her watch: 7:58. Even if her urge to pee had been great enough to ask, then she might be a minute or two late. Not a good look. It wasn't that urgent anyway. Her coffee was ready about thirty seconds later and she took it outside, lowered her mask and took a sip. Ahhhhhh. She took a seat at a table outside, adjusting the chair so the glint off the ocean didn't shine directly in her hazel eyes. She smoothed her black sleeveless blouse and tugged at her gray pants while most other patrons were either already in their swimsuits for the day or still in their pajamas. Business casual at the beach was a tricky look, especially since Erin was used to working in jeans. The pants fit tighter than she'd remembered, stretching taut around her thighs and butt. "Erin?" She perked her head up and then stood up to greet the older woman, who was half a foot shorter than her but carried herself confidently. Erin was privileged enough to take her family here for a week; this other woman looked privileged enough to spend the whole summer. Guess that's why I'm asking her for money and not the other way around, Erin thought. The woman held out her hand, then drew it back. "Sorry," she said. "I never know how to greet people these days, you know? No handshake, but you're okay with masks off?" "Yeah, sounds good," Erin replied with a smile. "Thanks so much for meeting me, Mrs. Delhagen." "Oh, please, Cheryl is fine." She motioned for both to sit. "I'm glad you could take some time out of your vacation." Erin sat and crossed her legs to quell the sloshing about in the her bladder. "I've got three teenagers who love to sleep. I'll probably be back before any of them even wake up." They each chuckled. "So," Cheryl started. "Howard told me a bit about you and your plans for opening up a new shop but we mostly ended up talking about the old days back in New York. So maybe start from the beginning?" "Of course," Erin said. She took another long sip of her latte and cleared her throat. "So I started working at his shop when I was 15 doing, like, the rolling and the boiling and the baking of the bagels. After a while he started trusting me to mix the batches, too. So I worked there in high school and then in summers during college doing all that and running the register, whatever he needed." "And you liked it and decided to stay on?" "Well, after I graduated I went to work at an accounting firm and I hated it. The only good thing was I met my husband there. He can sit at a computer all day and play with numbers but it wasn't for me. So I quit and Howard hired me back at the bagel shop again... temporarily, I thought, but I was really happy there and then I got engaged and married and started our family and I never felt like I wanted to do anything else." Erin raised her cup to her mouth again and took a big sip, uncrossing her legs and then re-crossing with the left one on top. The two mugs she'd drank at home were running through her, and this would be sure to follow. Cheryl nodded, and Erin continued. "So, like, five or six years ago Howard started taking more time away from the shop and I was basically running it. Overseeing everything, hiring some new people, plus still getting there at 4:00 to roll the bagels if I needed to. Then three years ago he wanted to sell it and retire. He really wanted me and my husband to buy it. We were sort of on the fence with the money but he found a way to give us a pretty good deal and make it work, so... we went for it." "And your husband also works there now, then?" "Not in the shop, no. He just does the accounting. So the LLC is both of us, but I'm the one managing the day-to-day operations." "I see. So walk me through what you've done since taking over." "Oh, lots!" Erin said. "Well, I kept the bagel recipe the same -- that was a stipulation of Howard's but I would have done that anyway. But I expanded the menu a bit to include some pastries... some recipes I made with my mom growing up, some newer ones. It's the same as the bagels, always made fresh with high-quality ingredients. I, uh, changed the name, too," she added. She swallowed and sat up in her seat, studying Cheryl's face. Her bladder twinged as it continued to fill up and the caffeine worked its magic. "Oh?" "Yeah. Everything up there is Howard's Bagels or Cramer's Bagels or whatever... I wanted something a little more, uh, unique. So we're now The So-So Dough Co. It's silly, I know, but it sticks in people's heads and helps us stand out a little bit more, I think. The whole point is it's better than just 'so-so.' Plus we don't only do bagels now." Her eyes widened and a few butterflies frolicked in her stomach as she looked up. This was the wildcard of the investment pitch. She hoped Cheryl wouldn't think that she was trying to throw out her old friend's legacy by removing his name or anything like that. Cheryl wrinkled her brow and rocked her head side to side, chewing it over, which left Erin to deal with the rising tide inside her. She reached for her coffee out of anxiety and downed the last gulp even as she was thinking that was the last thing she needed. Her need to pee was becoming something she couldn't ignore. Finally Cheryl spoke. "You know, I love it," she said, and beamed at Erin. "One thing I look for when making these investments is someone who makes it their own, you know? Like this place..." she gestured to the shop they were sitting outside. "Five years ago it was a little dirty roadside shack. But this couple was retiring from Vermont and they'd always dreamed of running a bakery and they had a vision that called to me to help make it come to life. If I wanted same-old I could just franchise an Auntie Anne's, you know? But this place..." "It's wonderful." "It really is, and it's because they... have you had the iced maple latte?" "No," Erin said. "Oh, you've got to try it. Hold on." Cheryl pushed her chair back, stood up, and headed inside. Erin sighed and lifted her butt off the chair to tug at her pants again. She wished they didn't cling so tightly as the discomfort of her swelling bladder persisted. Her mind jumped back to yesterday and the memory of her daughter Zoe growing more and more desperate in the back seat as they inched through the traffic. The possibility that Zoe wouldn't be able to hold it never crossed Erin's mind until the moment she walked up on her in the line for the bathroom sending a flood of hot pee into her purple leggings and out onto the floor. Aside from the occasional violent sneeze or coughing fit that shook a few drops loose, Erin couldn't fathom something like that happening. Even on those days in the shop when she was stuck baking the bagels and running the register while her bladder howled, when the line of customers never ended and she couldn't take a toilet break, on the days when all of that was happening and she was teaching some ditzy teenager how to work the kettle, stuck staring at the giant vat of water while a roaring ocean of pee inside her begged for relief... she always found a way to hold it. Erin wasn't bursting at the seams like that now but her coffee and caffeine addiction had its drawbacks. One cup was mandatory for her to even wake up, and she'd drank the second one to be sure she was sharp for this informal investment meeting. Those had filled her bladder and created this pressure between her thighs that was now constant and stronger by the minute. Plus the one she'd had here and now... Cheryl put another cup down on the table, a size larger than the empty one Erin had already finished. "You have to try this," Cheryl said, sipping on her own. Erin hesitated for just a second. It was the first law of holes: If you find yourself in a hole, stop digging. And if you're in a meeting and you have to pee, stop drinking coffee. Cheryl was looking on expectedly, though, so Erin lifted it up and took a swig. "Oh wow, that's really good!" It wasn't fake enthusiasm, the iced coffee really was that good. And it helped cool down her rising body temperature from all the holding. "Right? And you'd never expect it, you know? Like a delicious maple latte here in North Carolina of all places. They get the real Vermont syrup delivered down here and everything. So anyway, this is the sort of thing I prefer to invest in and it seems like you think the same way, which I love. Of course, there are other considerations. How has business been with the pandemic?" Erin kept sipping on the coffee in spite of her need. She uncrossed her thighs but kept her ankles interlaced and pushed her knees together. "Well, obviously, not great at first. Business was way down with people not going into the office but we tried to be creative. Like we started selling batches of pizza dough and, like, the idea is since you're stuck inside you can do that as a family thing instead of just ordering a pie. I've been pretty active on our Facebook page promoting stuff like that." Cheryl nodded her head. "And that's been enough to stay afloat?" "We also got a loan which helped with payroll. But last month was really good for us. I think we've got families who would've sent their kids to a summer camp and now suddenly have them home needing breakfast every day. Before the pandemic we mostly got people on their way to work. Since then though I've been trying to bring in other groups." Erin reached for her coffee again and polished it off. The iced coffee was more refreshing than she'd expected and went down quickly. The twinge in her bladder had grown into more of an aching, stubbornly swelling with all she'd drank. "And you think the time is right for a second location?" "I do," Erin replied, stopping for a moment to unclench her jaw. "It's something we were ready for back in the winter before this all happened and the last month or two have shown it's still feasible. I actually brought..." Erin made sure to keep her thighs pinched together as she leaned over to open her bag and pull out a folder. "...these with me." "Finances? Oh, I don't need to look at those now," Cheryl replied with a polite smile. "I figured this first meeting we'd just get to know each other and see if it's a good fit." She finished her own cup of coffee and set it down. "Say, I've got all this caffeine about to hit me, do you want to finish this up with a walk along the water?" She pushed her chair back and stood up. Erin stood up too and winced almost -- but not entirely -- imperceptibly as the weight of her bladder shifted inside and made her tense up. She took a quick glance at her watch, then back at the shop. "Unless you've got to go? I know you're on vacation." "Oh, no, no, it's not a problem," Erin said. It sure seemed like Cheryl was taking a liking to her and her plans, and she was thinking this little stroll might seal the deal, or at least get the ball rolling for good. She was starting to really need to pee, though, bad enough that it was eating into her focus. But Cheryl had heard her quick assurance and already started walking toward the path along the beach, away from the bakery. Just gonna have to treat it like one of those crazy days in the shop and push through it, Erin thought. She quickly found the slow pace of the walk maddening. When she needed to pee like this, sitting in one spot was manageable. Bouncing around like a pinball doing a million things wasn't too awful, either. But Erin found Cheryl's leasurely, meandering pace to be troublesome. Her bladder was pushing out against her skin and down against her urethra and there was nothing she could do to be rid of the feeling. What was she going to do, tell this 60 year old woman to pick up the pace? "So do your kids work with you there?" Cheryl asked. "No... my oldest one, Zoe, she likes baking too but the hours aren't so great. Looking back I don't know how I pulled off working there and then going to school afterwards. But she works at this ice cream place nearby in the evenings and nights. And Paige, my next oldest, we're celebrating her 16th birthday on Wednesday this week, actually. So maybe in the fall she'll look for something." The waves crashing against the shore not far from her wasn't helping Erin's situation. She really regretted that maple latte which hadn't even started hitting her bladder yet. She knew this was going to get worse quickly. She did her best to focus on the conversation with Cheryl, a perfectly pleasant woman who she'd ordinarily be happy to chat with forever. But the longer it went on the more she had to pee, pushing past discomfort and bordering on trouble. Talking about her business plan was distracting but only to a certain extent. Each step seemed to increase the urge and made it that much harder to push out of her head. She daydreamed about being in her swimsuit and walking into the water where she could let it all out. That thought only made it worse. By the time they turned back Erin felt her bladder bulging, that fourth cup now relentlessly filling it up. She did her best to maintain her composure and attitude but it was taking real work. While the waves rolled in gently, the tide was rising inside her much more rapidly, and holding all her pee back was becoming into a real battle. They talked about possible locations for the new shop. Cheryl was happy with her return on investment from this bakery at the beach and encouraged Erin to consider something like that up north. "If you're all about widening your range and selling, you know, all this stuff besides bagels then I think you should look at it," Cheryl said. "Families are on vacation and they'll want coffee, trust me, and their hotel or rental won't always have the right stuff." Erin nodded in agreement. She looked off, hopeful that that were close to returning to the shop where maybe she'd be able to run in and pee. She felt like she was filled up to her limit, well past the point she'd ordinarily seek relief. "One thing we could do," Erin began, then stopped. The impulse she was feeling, the taut stretching of her distressed bladder, was messing with her focus and she was about to spit out an idea that popped into her head three second ago. But now Cheryl was looking at her to continue. "The towns we were talking about are like half New Yorkers and half Philadelphians. So it could be like this mix, New York style bagels and Philadelphia style soft pretzels. And of course a pork roll, egg, and cheese for the New Jerseyians." "You call it pork roll? Our deal's off, then," Cheryl said before cracking a smile. "It'll always be Taylor Ham to me." Erin laughed politely but even that jittered her bladder and made her cut the laugh short. An honest-to-god giggling fit might've been too much to handle. The more they spoke the clearer the picture became in Erin's head. She'd only dabbled in making soft pretzels but was sure she could pull it off. She really could be the spot for all types of dough. She'd mastered bagel dough and pastry dough, and the pizza dough experiment was going well. Pretzel dough? Why not. Cookie dough? Let's get crazy. Erin always liked being sociable but was finding the version of her that badly needed a bathroom break was a real chatterbox. She kept throwing ideas out and Cheryl seemed to be eating them up. The only thing holding back her unbridled enthusiasm was the demand of bladder, which was now throbbing, so full of pee it was messing with her balance just a little bit and throwing off her stride. Each time she stopped and Cheryl spoke Erin was gritting her teeth and making a great effort not to reveal her growing emergency. At long last, the shop came back into view. It felt like this had all gone really well but it was getting harder to think about anything other than her aching desire. "Well, I think this was great," Cheryl said. The two had returned to the parking lot and she started walking Erin to her car. "I am definitely interested in helping you open your new location. I'll give you my number and we'll get into the weeds on everything, but you can count me in." Erin looked longily back toward the bakery. Couldn't she just pop in, ask to use the bathroom, she thought. It was a little awkward when a customer in her shop asked, but she would always let them back to use it. Of course, with COVID it'd be more awkward... And Cheryl was wrapping it up, it'd be weird to follow her back inside, right? She heard the alarm bells from her bladder loud and clear, but the triple awkwardness was too much. So instead she forced a smile. "That sounds great! Thank you so much, Mrs. Delh, uh, Cheryl." A sharp pang pulsed from her bladder and distracted her momentarily. Maybe I should just go here after all. She looked over at the building again. "No problem," Cheryl replied. She noticed Erin glancing over. "Is there anything else? I know you're probably ready to get back and start your vacation," she said with a smile. "Um, no, I guess that's it. Talk to you soon!" She opened the door to the car and slid in, keeping the tension of her pelvic muscles tight the whole time. Erin started the car and pulled out of the spot. As she waited for the cross-traffic to stop so she could get onto the road, she took a quick glimpse both ways and then in the rearview mirror where she saw Cheryl heading inside the shop, well out of earshot. "God DAMN I have to pee!" she exclaimed. The stinging was as sharp as ever but it felt good to verbalize the main thought in her head from the past twenty minutes. Now it was the only thought. At least she no longer had to pretend to be professional about it, so she pushed down over top of her gray pants. "Ohhhhhmmmm," she moaned, finally turning onto the road. Relief was a ten minute drive up the road. She pulled her phone out of her purse when she got to a red light and saw she had a text from her husband. The light turned green before she could read it, and she decided against trying to craft a response or calling him. Holding in a morning's worth of pee that was pleading to get out already made her a distracted driver. No need to make it worse. Her left knee stayed glued to her right as she drove, her left foot tapping ceaselessly on the floorboard while her right foot gingerly worked the pedals. Beads of sweat dotted her brow and she gripped the steering wheel as hard as she could with both hands, stiffening every fiber she could. Her bladder felt so, so heavy in her abdomen, filled to the very brim with pee that she longed to release. Zoe's accident popped into her head again and the mental image of her daughter peeing her pants sent a spasm through Erin's body that made her shove a hand between legs to control. I can't end up like that, she thought, I have to hold it. It wasn't just her aching pee hole that throbbed. She felt her clit growing hard even though she was quite certain that nothing about this aroused her. But her nerves were firing and her blood was pumping and practically setting her pussy on fire. The pangs of pressure from her bladder were relentless, pulsating like a second heart inside her. The traffic light in the distance turned from green to yellow. Erin sped up to try and beat it but she was too far away and had to hit the brake instead. She watched the cross-traffic go by and willed the light to change again. "Fuck, fuck, hurry UP!" she said out loud as her thighs bounced together. She let out a long breath through her pursed lips as it finally turned and she was moving again. She went back to the death grip on the steering wheel, taking out all her frantic energy on the leather. "Come onnnn, hold it, hold it, hold it!" she mumbled to herself. She started recognizing familiar features. There's that tree, there's that kayak rental spot, there's that ugly house. The thrashing was worse than ever but she'd made it to her turn, about a minute from the house. Erin had to pee SO bad she couldn't sit up straight, instead hunching over the steering wheel. "Almost there... I can hold it, I can hold it," she squeaked out. Erin transported her mind back home, back to her bagel shop on one of those days she never had a chance for a bathroom break and she'd held it all morning long. She didn't think she'd ever been quite this desperate before but at least today she didn't have to put on a cheery, perky face for that final customer as her bladder roared for relief. This drive down the road was that final customer, she imagined, and she was free to scrunch her face and lean over. Free to shove a hand between her jiggling legs and push back against the piercing anguish, to hold her monsoon of pee inside for just a little longer. The houses passed by in a blur until she reached theirs and zipped into the driveway. She unclipped her seat belt and snatched her phone from the cupholder. Her bag on the passenger seat could wait. "Oh my GOD!" she wailed as she stepped out, still hunched over. It felt like her bladder was so full, so swollen that it had its own gravitation pull and that if she tried to stand up straight it would all explode out of her. Erin stumbled up the walkway to the door. Her ears grew hot with embarrassment that her husband and kids might see her like this but she couldn't even feign composure. Her gait and her posture were a dead giveaway that she was dying to pee and that it had to be NOW. "Oh shit, shit!" she said under her breath as she got to the door and stopped, bouncing at the knees. She stuck her butt out, enveloped tightly by her gray pants. Once more she buried her hand between her legs as the first drops of her pent-up pee inched closer and closer to spurting out. "What the fuck is the code?" She'd entered it the night before when they arrived but promptly forgotten it. There was a key, too, but they hadn't attached it to the car keys. She frantically thought back. It started with an 8 I think? And there was a 2, and a 1? Two 8s? She lifted her index finger from the stone cold grip of her phone and typed it in: 8821. Nothing happened. She grinded her thighs together and bounced them like she was running in place. She tried again: 8821, this time hitting the pound key. The pad blinked back red. "Oh come ON!" she howled, and then pounded on the door. "Hey, it's me! Can someone come get the door?" She listened for movement, for any sliver of hope that the entrance might open. "Hello?!?!?" She knocked harder, louder. "Come ohhhhnnnnnn," she whined in exasperation. "I really REALLY have to pee!" Erin started panicking as the door didn't budge. Her body was raging in rebellion, trying to override her desperate measures to hold back the flood. Her legs bounced violently, starting to give way to the strain. She tried the number pad again, fingers shaking. 8221#? Red. 8211#? Red. 8812#? Red. "Oh, fuck, mnnnnnrrrrrrnnnnngghhh!" Erin let out a long groan of frustration. Her chest was almost as tight as her grip between her thighs. She pounded on the door one last time and then unlocked her phone. Her hand was shaking but she didn't dare pull the other away from her pee hole to steady it. "Siri... call Kevin," she choked out. She put it on speaker and listened to it ring. And ring. And ring. "Pick up pick up pick UP! Where ARE you?" She asked out loud to nobody. His voicemail recording started and Erin smashed End Call so hard she almost dropped the phone. She was prancing around on the porch, completely unable to stand even a little bit still. She was still bent at the knees and the waist. She felt the walls of her bladder expanding by the second, bulging out over the waist of her pants. "Keep holding it, keep holding it.... Siri, call Zoe." She had to keep trying. Ring. Ring. Ring. No answer. Erin looked up to the sky. "Are you KIDDING me?" she pleaded to the sun. She took a few short breaths. "Come on, Erin, I'm not going to pee in my pants," she told herself. But she was feeling less sure of that as the seconds ticked by. She leaned against the railing of the porch for support, pulling her left hand from between her legs and quickly replacing it with her right. Her bladder screamed for a reprieve. It wasn't simply ready to open up and send the hot yellow pee out, it was actively squeezing it out, nearly overwhelming her poor, tired urethra. "Siri..." Erin couldn't even unclench her teeth. "Call Paige." Surely somebody had to have their phone with them. She pictured them all together in the rec room, TV too loud to hear her knocking but mere seconds from opening the door. "Hey mom, what's up?" her daughter answered. Thank God. "Uh, hey Paige... Um, where are you all?" Her voice was strained and just the slightest bit shaky. A pulse ran through her bladder and made her nearly leap into the air. "We went for a walk on the beach... Dad said he texed you. Where are you?" "Where am I? I'm on the front porch trying to get inside!" Erin exclaimed. "What's the code for the lock?" "Uhhh, I don't know," Paige responded. Erin heard her voice in the background, away from the phone. "Mom's at the house, what's the code for the door?" Excruciating seconds of silence followed. Somebody better know or I'm not going to be able to hold it, Erin thought. "Mom?" Paige's voice was back on the phone. "Yeah, we don't know it. We just brought the key with us and it's in the e-mail from the host but Dad didn't bring his phone." Erin's jaw dropped and actual tears blurred her eyes. That couldn't be real. She'd held it valiantly through the meeting, through the drive home, and here on the porch. She had to pee SO bad and the bathroom was just on the other side of the door but there was no way in. Her chest shivered with the realization that she'd have to keep holding it, and the creeping dread that she'd already given it her all and that she was going to wind up like Zoe and have a complete, sopping wet pee accident in her pants. "Mom?" "How far away are you?" Erin was frenetic. "We're on our way back, like 5 or 10 minutes maybe? Are you okay?" "Can you just please hurry up? I really need to use the bathroom, okay?" "Yeah, alright, see you soon." Paige ended the call. "Ohhhhhhh my GOD I have to peeeeeeeeEEEEEEEE!!" Erin cried, the filter between her mind and her mouth just about gone. She managed to push away from the railing and back to the door, heels bouncing furiously up and down. 8211#. 1288#. 8212#. Red, red, red. Erin wished she'd done a better job of conveying her urgency to Paige but she kept trying to reject the prospect that she was stuck here on the verge of unleashing a torrent of warm pee into her panties. Not even 18 hours ago she'd seen her oldest daughter reach her breaking point and pee herself in the middle of a rest stop. All the feelings Erin had of disbelief and incredulity were melting away, replaced with the horror that she might burst any second and wet herself, too. She felt her pee hole open for just an instant and doubled over. It felt like something had come out but she wasn't positive. Or maybe she just didn't want to accept it. She set her phone down and balled both fists to thrust between her legs. "Pleeeeease hold it in!" She was bargaining with her own body now. Her heart was racing, pumping blood from head to toe. With all the attention on keeping the last shred of defense against a waterfall in place the rest of her body seemed to do whatever it pleased. Her nipples hardened and showed through her bra and her top, not that she had the capacity to notice. "Hurry up, hurry the fuck up," she whispered, leaning against the door to hold her up. Her legs were exhausted from the strain. She tried the keypad again: 8112#. This time it lit up red and stayed solid. Erin tried pushing a few buttons but nothing happened. She was locked out from even trying again. Her heel was clattering up and down wholly out of her command. Her skin stretched out where the bladder pushed against it. It burned like a fireball inside, twitching and trembling while it begged for mercy against Erin's desperate hold. Her urethra wilted again under the tension and this time there was no mistaking the sizzling surge of pee into her underwear. "Ohhhhhh fuck!" Erin moaned, half from the tiny morsel of relief and half from the embarrassment of wetting herself. Her damp underwear clung to her vulva which teased her, begged her to open up again and ease the burning torment. "I can hold it, I can hold it ... please let me hold it!" she continued to coach herself even as another inescapable contraction hit her and sent a new rush of pee splashing into her panties. Erin looked down. Her underwear felt saturated but so far her pants remained a single shade of gray. She'd failed at holding all that pee in but maybe she could at least keep those from getting wet. She heard a click and looked up to see the door opening. Instinctively, she stood up straight. There was no way she was going to be able hide just how desperate she was but at least she could look somewhat dignified in front of her family. Her bladder protested the move and tried to forcefully send another stream out. Erin managed to stop it... mostly. She could feel a slow drip-drip-drip of pee coming out. She made eye contact with Zoe, who had opened the door. In a split second her eyes told Zoe the story that could've filled a novel. If anyone understood, it was her. Zoe stepped to the side and Erin shuffled inside, dripping pee into her underwear with every step. By the time she was in the main hallway the drips had turned to spurts and as she entered the bathroom it turned into a full-fledged stream. A stain suddenly appeared from between her legs. Erin could only stumble toward the toilet. The stream was growing hotter and more vigorous and she was utterly powerless to stop the mighty raging river of pee that was rushing out. She hooked her fingers in her waistband and pulled down her pants and underwear in one motion, falling back onto the toilet with no interruption to the stream. "Ohhhhhhhh my god," Erin moaned with relief as it splashed loudly against the porcelain beneath her. She had never peed a torrent like this, splashing all over her pussy. The feeling of relief was euphoric. Her skin tingled. She closed her eyes and reveled in the sensation of finally letting it all go. She didn't open them until the stream began to come to a stop. Now she had to face reality and inspect the damage. She looked down and saw that her underwear were virtually drenched, wet from midway up the front all the way around to the backside. She lifted them up near her knees to inspect the pants. They'd fared better but right at the seams there was an obvious stain, the fabric turned a darker gray in the size of a softball and almost perfectly symmetrical on each leg. She wiped herself dry and thought for a moment. Zoe might have seen her at the apex of her desperation but nobody knew that Erin Crosby, 43 years old, wife and mother, had peed in her pants. And nobody needed to know. She pulled her underwear up, shuddering for a blink as the wet spot, now lukewarm, clung against the lips of her pussy. Then she pulled her pants up and studied herself in the mirror. She tried bunching up the fabric between her legs, and walked back and forth. If she was careful and took small steps she felt confident she could avoid detection. She started to leave but took one final glance back in the mirror. The reflection in the mirror looked back, the only face who'd ever know that Erin hadn't been able to hold it. *** This chapter was inspired by a suggestion from a reader. If you have an idea for a future chapter, I'd love to hear it! My inbox is always open or you can post here. And of course all comments are welcome -- it's always nice to know people are reading (and enjoying). Or maybe you hate it, that's fine too! Let me know what I can do better. Thanks! -TR
  10. I guess it sort of depends on how Michelle deals with it. For me personally I'm into omo (obviously) but the context can greatly affect that. Alone at home? Great. But there have been some instances where I didn't get any enjoyment out of it at all at least in the moment. Just a theory but I feel like finding some sort of silver lining in a really dark embarrassing moment might have been the start of this for some of us here. At least for me I think that's how it happened and with that as my frame of reference that's how I picture Michelle. She's dealt with this issue for a long time and part of her coping mechanism is to take some enjoyment in it. It does feel like part of her story is balancing that with the circumstances of the accident. She wasn't excited or even thinking about that part of her life as she having her accident in the store but as she was changing out in private it crossed her mind. That rang familiar to me. Would it override her worry about her daughter? That's a fair point but that line is probably different for everybody. So I don't find it unnecessary but since it's not central to the story (at least not yet?) I don't feel like it would be obviously missing if it didn't come up each time.
  11. First of all, I think this story is terrific and I love your writing. As for your questions, I didn't find the lack of desperation to be an issue at all. In fact I liked that both chapters were different. The oblique hint at a third character being desperate is a fun little addition. I feel like Ashlynn would be mad at her mother, maybe not unreasonably, for letting her have the wine. But perhaps if she woke up first she could change quickly and her mom may not even know. Looking forward to whatever is next!
  12. Thanks! I have a few ideas but I'm also open to suggestions. That way perhaps the next chapter won't take a year to write. If anyone has one they can either post here or message me directly.
  13. After all this time I finally have a new chapter. It's short but I hope you enjoy it. II They pulled into the driveway of their rental house just as the sun was beginning to set. Zoe was the first to click her setbelt off and exit the car, walking around to the back as her dad opened the trunk from up front. She grabbed a plastic bag and even though it was double-wrapped she detected the faint odor of her wet leggings and underwear inside. Zoe would've been happy to throw them away at the rest stop the same way she wanted to throw away the memory, but both lived on. At the very least, she would be the one to bring them inside and get them in the washing machine. Her bladder felt full again but she knew it really wasn't. After the torture she'd put it through earlier in the day it seemed to be broken, confused. They'd stopped for dinner right after crossing onto the Outer Banks, a small roadside spot with picnic table seating. In between placing her order and picking it up, Zoe felt a rush of desperation and booked it for the porta-potty where she sat and peed for all of about 15 seconds, if that. More than anything, that was the feeling that occupied her most on the second half of the drive. She was embarrassed, she was shocked, and from time to time her thoughts drifted to the absurdity of it all and she found it darkly funny, but most of all she felt... rattled. Let down by her body. Like she'd failed. For as bad as she'd needed to go she had made it to the stop, to the first bathroom line, then across the parking lot to the shorter second line. She'd done all of that without letting a drop loose. And then her senses overrode everything else. First the mere sight of the toilet sending those first gushes into her underwear, and then hearing the mother scold that poor girl she'd let go ahead of her had severed the last thread holding on and sent it all torrenting out. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't make it stop. The best she could do was slow it for a few seconds before the tsunami resumed. That was the part that really ate at her: that she was putting all her energy into making it stop but her leggings got wetter and wetter. And that all the agony she'd been through had been for nothing. Her good deed hadn't even saved the girl in front of her although that one seemed quite a bit smaller with no stain on her shorts. She felt content with her decision to let them cut ahead, but daydreamed about the alternate universe where her selflessness was rewarded and she'd have saved them both from having an accident. It was hard not to feel defeated by reality. All of which was to say that she knew that the small soda she'd had with dinner was not cause for her bladder to be bursting now. She threw her duffle bag over her shoulder and carried the plastic bag with her pee-soaked clothes in her hand, away from her body. She stopped at the front door, waited for her mom to punch in the door code, and entered to immediately look for the laundy room. After a few false starts she found it. She opened the bag, getting hit with the full smell of her drenched leggings and underwear before dumping them into the machine. She threw in a detergent pouch and hit start. The machine whirred into action and began whooshing as it filled with water. Zoe heard it and felt her bladder pounding and pleading for relief. She shook her head and rolled her eyes, wondering how long the simple sound of running water would cause such trouble. She knew it had to be a false alarm but that didn't make it feel any less real. She pushed her thighs together and stood in front of the machine for a moment longer, making sure it seemed to be working properly. A tremor washed over her and made her buckle at the knees. "Did you start the machine with only two things in it?" Her mom had heard the noise and came over. Zoe steeled herself, determined not to give anything away. Her mom seeing her stood frozen except for a river of pee engulfing her leggings and the ever-so-helpful "you really should have asked to go sooner" talk her was enough for several lifetimes. "Uh, yeah?" "That's wasteful, Zoe." "Mom, it... it smelled pretty bad. And there's nothing else that needs to be washed." Her mom paused. "I suppose so. I still can't believe you..." Zoe turned away before her face could turn red again. "Well maybe you should go pee now, just to be safe," her mom said. Zoe clenched her fists for a moment. She wanted to turn back and tell her mom that, no, actually, she did NOT need reminders about when to go to the bathroom and that in spite of what happened this afternoon it wasn't something she ever needed to bring up again. But the bigger urge was to get to the bathroom and pee, even if it was only for another 15 seconds. So instead she started walking away, feeling the burn in her thighs with every stop. She walked back through the kitchen and saw what she figured was the bathroom, but of course the door was closed. Of course, she thought. Somehow she was feeling utterly desperate to pee again. This wasn't as bad as at the rest stop but she was really starting to feel sick of it. Before she could think about going upstairs to look for an open bathroom, she heard the toilet flush. The sink started running and Zoe had to grab herself as she felt her bladder trying to contract and squeeze it all out of her. This is so stupid, she thought, this is all just some dumb trick my body is playing. She tried to convince herself: I don't have to pee, I don't have to pee, I don't have to pee. But her body wasn't buying it, and she still had her hand between her legs as her brother opened the door. Zoe avoided eye contact as she rushed in, lowered theseat, pulled her shorts and underwear down and sat. She let out a moan of relief as she relaxed and let a forceful stream of pee splash to the water below. She ripped off some toilet paper in anticipation of a quick trip but it just kept going and flowing. Thirty seconds passed and it was still coming out as vigorous as at the start. I guess I really did have to go, she thought. Forty five seconds, then fifty seconds and finally it began to slow to a trickle before stopping at around a minute. Zoe wiped herself and shook her head. She felt like a stranger in her own skin, like her brain was speaking one language and her body was speaking another. As she pulled up her shorts and flushed the toilet, she closed her eyes and wished that she could transport herself back to this morning, before this day had started. She opened her eyes. No luck.
  14. Erin Scollan (classmate): It was a Wednesday afternoon, 8th period, near the end of the day. I sit next to Rylee in Government & Politics so we always got paired up for group projects and stuff in that class. We don't, like, hang out after school or anything but we talk before class starts. But that day she got in just before the bell rang. Becca Thomas (classmate and friend): We tried to get in the same classes this year but there was enough interest that they split it into two, and I'm in the third period class. So I was able to give her a heads up that Ms. Tinsley was giving a quiz that day. Her quizzes aren't open-book but you are allowed to use the pocket Constitution she gave out on the first day as a reference. Ashley Craft (classmate and friend): Me and Rylee usually walk over from the B-wing where we're in English together to the A-wing because I have Spanish in the classroom next door. We were like halfway there when she had to turn back and go to her locker. Becca: Ms. Tinsley won't let you go to your locker if you forgot to bring it. That's why I made sure to tell her there was a quiz. Ashley: I knew she had to pee during English class but we had a substitute teacher and they aren't allowed to write hall passes anymore since people used to take advantage of subs and just ask for them and go the library to watch YouTube or whatever all period. Mrs. Preller (substitute teacher): It's a pretty new rule at that school, I think, but I don't sub there very often. It was written out in the instructions for me, though, everyone was supposed to read a few chapters and write a two-paragraph mini-essay about the author's use of foreshadowing. And it said right at the top: no hall passes. Of course a bunch of students tried to ask all day long even though eventually I wrote it on the whiteboard. Ashley: Rylee asked twice to go during English, once at the beginning and then again after she handed in her write-up. I think she explained that she had to go pretty bad but there were only like eight minutes left by then anyway. Plus Dave Koenig asked like five times but he obviously just wanted to go down to the guidance office where his girlfriend works during her study hall period. So the sub was getting really annoyed with people asking. Anyway, me and Rylee were going to go use the A-wing bathrooms but she had to turn back since her locker is in B so I just figured she'd use those. Patrick McKinstry (classmate): B-wing was a total shitshow. First of all the leak from the water fountain's still not fixed so like half the hallway is closed off with towels down and that fan going, probably just blowing all that mold up into our faces but whatever. The soccer team had a game against Central so we were all allowed to skip 8th and 9th period to go and get ready. And as I'm going there these two freshman fighting and they just go SLAMMING into a locker. I have no idea how it started but they were going crazy so of course the teachers nearby rush out to see what's going on. Mr. Inglewood (principal): We've gotten no reports of mold in the school, and we would take any such report very seriously. Becca: I was coming out of the bathroom right as I saw the woodshop teacher, Mr. Kohler, pick one of them up and literally carry him away. Another teacher got the other one and then a few were blocking the way because, like, if there's blood or something we can't just walk right through it. I saw Rylee pushing her way through to get to her locker, which she finally did. Then I saw her coming back trying to get by to the bathroom, but the teachers were directing everyone away from that area which took forever because of the water fountain. Erin: I could definitely tell something was wrong as soon as she sat down because she doesn't really have resting bitch face or anything so like it was pretty clear it was something. There wasn't even time to ask before class started though. Ashley: Even with going to her locker and not being to get to the bathrooms before 8th period I would've thought Rylee would've been fine. Some of our field hockey games are pretty far away and it's just regular school buses so there's no toilets on there. There have been some close calls with that but never with Rylee. Mackenzie Everett (senior and field hockey captain): I've been on the team for four years and every year there's been at least one time where someone gets stuck on the bus needing to pee super bad. I just roll my eyes every time. It's like, come on. Anonymous (field hockey teammate): I know for a fact Mackenzie Everett has wet herself on the field hockey bus. She was the only freshman to make varsity so she thinks none of us know but [redacted] was on the team then and she told me. She was like a row over and saw Mackenzie grabbing herself the entire bus ride back to school after a game. When they got back to school and she stood up, [redacted] saw that that Mackenzie's seat was wet. She like sprinted off the bus to the locker room but she definitely had already peed in her uniform a little bit. You totally can't use my name or [redacted]'s either, she'd kill me. Erin: So anyway Ms. Tinsley was passing out the quizzes and this one was three pages. Sometimes they're just like ten question multiple choice but this one also had a fill-in section and then a short essay. As soon as Rylee got her's she raised her hand, and Ms. Tinsley came over. Rylee asked if she could go and use the bathroom before she started but Ms. Tinsley told her she'd have to wait until after. That's when I first saw how bad it must have been because she looked really distressed and crossed her legs super tight. Becca: It was a pretty hard quiz. Ms. Tinsley gave us like 30 minutes for it and it took me almost the whole time. And when we started going over it even Lara Hampton had gotten some wrong and she gets 100% on, like, every test and quiz. Jenna Frye: I sit right behind Rylee and it was getting really distracting. She kept shifting back and forth in her seat and then tapping her foot up and down. I was trying to concentrate on the quiz and she was just like all over the place and then by the end I'm pretty sure she was whispering to herself. I didn't know what was going on until Ms. Tinsley called time. Erin: She called "pencils down" and we all passed our quizzes to the front and Rylee's hand went up again. She asked "can I have a pass to go to the bathroom?" and Ms. Tinsley was like, "we're just going to go over the quiz real quick, I'll write you a pass after we're done." Rylee's hand stayed up and she was like "please? We had a sub last period so I wasn't able to then!" Ms. Tinsley told her she should have gone between classes, then. Jenna: That's when I started wondering, like, was she going to be okay? She obviously had to pee SUPER bad by how she was squirming in her seat and the way we go over quizzes in that class takes a while. I still never thought that Rylee would... you know. Erin: I guess I knew she really had to pee but I was more paying attention to the quiz discussion. Jenna: I could only see her back but I could tell she was holding herself. She kept lifting herself off her seat and re-adjusting her jeans. Then she raised her hand and kinda waved it around to get Ms. Tinsley's attention, but she just kind of gave Rylee a look and she put her hand down. I guess she was too shy to admit that she was literally about to pee her pants. Erin: Once we were going over the essay section is when I really started to notice Rylee looking down a lot. She was chewing on her bottom lip and looking really nervous. Jenna: I'm pretty sure I heard her curse under her breath when Ms. Tinsley was like "okay, Rylee, tell us what you put down for the essay and then I'll write you a pass." Brendan Jastremski (classmate): She couldn't even really talk in coherent sentences. She somehow started talking about the amendments even though the essay was asking about checks and balances. She kept restarting but couldn't ever get a train of thought. I sit a few rows over so I didn't know how bad it was until then. I looked over and she was like really pale and then her face turned red. Erin: Ms. Tinsley was trying to guide her through it and asking really basic stuff about the three branches. I think Rylee could tell everyone was like aware of it all and that made it even harder for her to think straight. I looked over and she was sitting so stiffly upright, like any movement was going to make her pee. Jenna: She never gave a good answer but finally Ms. Tinsley was just like "okay, come up here and I'll write you a pass." I expected Rylee to like run up there but she just sat there. Ms. Tinsley said it again and as soon as Rylee stood up I saw there was a little wet spot between her legs in the back. It wasn't bit but like the contrast of the wet fabric was really easy to see. Erin: She walked really awkwardly up to Ms. Tinsley's desk and had to lean on it. Her legs were so jittery it was like impossible to ignore so I was watching as the stain started getting bigger and bigger. Jenna: Obviously like the whole class could tell at this point and everyone started laughing and whispering to each other, which made Ms. Tinsley be like "quiet please!" but then she looked up and I guess she could see that Rylee was peeing her pants because she just ripped the pass out of her booklet right away and gave it to her. Erin: By the time she finally got the pass she had peed, like, a lot. All down the back of both of her thighs was wet up above her knees. Brendan: I couldn't believe it. Nobody had done that in class since Katie McGinnis in like 3rd grade. Rylee sprint-walked out the door and everyone was just looking at each other like "did that really just happen?"
  15. Thank you everyone, I'm glad you all enjoyed it. I have... not starting writing anything else yet. But I will at some point!
  16. Zoe pressed her forehead against the car window, rolled her eyes, and let out a sigh. Her family's minivan, packed to the brim with luggage, coolers, and beach gear, sped down the highway. The sun beating through the window competing with the arctic breeze from the air conditioning made her feel both too hot and too cold at the same time. It was by the far the most miserable she'd ever felt going on a vacation. The miseries had been mounting by the month, the week, the day, and now by the minute. She drew in a breath and held it, tightening her core and pulling her hips inward. She flexed one thigh and then the other, then back and forth again, ping-ponging quicker and quicker until she abruptly stopped. The tension in her bladder started rising two states ago and it was getting to the point where Zoe could only turn her focus elsewhere for a few seconds before the urge to pee interrupted again. Still, she thought, returning her breath to a normal cadence, any more bouncing of her legs and the whole car would know the situation. It was just something else to deal with, a perfectly logical continuation of the story of 2020. For starters, the last three months of her senior year of high school took place entirely online, a situation that students and teachers alike each hated. Zoe had also spent the winter planning the perfect weekend for her 18th birthday. It had taken weeks to get her parents to agree to let her go down to the shore with her friends for a Friday and Saturday night, only winning them over by agreeing to also have the conservative backyard party her folks preferred on Sunday with relatives and neighbors. Instead her birthday weekend turned into... well, any other weekend stuck inside with her parents and her siblings, except with a cheap grocery store cake. Her mother always, always made a cake from scratch for each and every one of their birthdays. But the grocery stores were completely sold out of flour, sugar, and vanilla as everyone decided to take up baking during quarantine. 17 birthdays for Zoe, 15 for Paige, and 13 for Chase. That was 44 birthdays, 44 freshly-baked cakes. Her brother had even gotten his in just under the wire, turning 13 in February before everything changed. 44 in a row, but Zoe's 18th birthday had broken the streak. Instead of the perfect birthday weekend there was no trip to the shore, a Zoom call with her friends that hardly took the place of a true celebration, and a mediocre cake to boot. She turned her gaze from out the window over toward Paige, who was busy scrolling through her Instagram feed. This trip surely wasn't what she pictured for her 16th birthday -- there'd be no Sweet 16 party, and she'd also be limited to Zoom calls from friends -- but they were on their way to a fancy-schmancy beach house, plus she'd be getting a proper cake. The car was loaded up with coolers full of enough food to last them the week plus an entire bag of baking essentials to start a new cake streak. Zoe pulled out her phone and tried to distract herself, but none of her friends posted anything interesting in the fifteen minutes since she'd last looked. With a bored sigh, she pulled her right leg up onto the seat and pressed her heel against her left thigh. As her body adjusted to the new sensation her desire for a bathroom dissipated, but only for a fleeting moment. The heaviness in her abdomen soon returned, lingering no matter where she moved her leg. "Are we stopping anytime soon? Like for gas?" she decided to ask. The second question came out as an almost involuntary deflection. She wasn't worried they wouldn't stop if she said she had to pee. Zoe was far too familiar with their "old fashioned" or "strict" ways -- the way she'd describe it would depend on how forgiving she felt at the moment -- but they wouldn't make her sit there with a full bladder and hold it in for no good reason. No, it was more that she just didn't know like anybody knowing her business. That old trope about girls always going to the bathroom together? Zoe hated that. And if the girl insisted on sitting in the next stall over and talking the whole way through? Even worse. She didn't understand how anyone could actually relieve themselves under those circumstances but it happened often enough that she internalized that her pee shyness as the outlier. To her friends she was absent-minded, always leaving her bag behind when in truth she did it purposefully so that she could "remember" a few minutes later and pee in peace. Her friend Ally always joked that she needed to handcuff it to her wrist, taking it so far as buying her a toy pair as a gag gift. Oh right, another misery: Last summer she let Ally talk her into signing up for one of those extreme obstacle course mud races. Like the A and Z at the beginning of their names, Ally and Zoe seemed like they couldn't be more different. Ally lived for sports, and when regular high school track and charity 5K runs stopped exciting her, she delved into the mud runs. Zoe, on the other hand, hated sports. She didn't hate the idea. It's just that her family adhered a little too closely to the old sexist tropes and so she grew up in the kitchen with her mother and not playing catch with her dad. By the time she sought to fix this it was too late, she was too far behind. Gym class was routinely a nightmare and the one time she felt bold enough to step outside of her comfort zone ended in disaster: the sixth grade basketball tryouts, the one sport she thought her natural height advtantage might make up for the fact she could count on her fingers the number of times she'd shot a basketball in her life. Rather than seeing her as a future star who just needed to be molded, the coach not-so-subtly mentioned that the school play was also holding auditions and the yearbook committee was always looking for new members, too. And so that was the beginning and end of her athletic career. Ally had been persistent, though, and with an eye toward getting in shape before she started college, Zoe agreed to sign up with her. She went with Ally to the track, to the gym, to the park, working all through the winter to get ready for the race in May. All that time spent being miserable on long runs and short sprints, getting herself in the best shape of her life -- okay, that wasn't saying much -- only to feel even more miserable when the race got canceled. Her weight bounced back up more than a few pounds while there was practically nothing to do but sit inside and eat. Her height helped to disguise it and even at her heaviest only the select few bitchiest girls at school would call her fat. Still, she felt a lot better trying on clothes after her winter of working out than she ever had before. As she felt the waistband of her purple leggings pressing firmly against her skin she lamented the loss of progress and wished wished she'd worn one of her older, roomier pairs. And of course Zoe recognized that none of these were truly miserable circumstances. Everyone she knew was healthy. Her family hadn't lost any income and wasn't facing eviction. A canceled race, no school graduation, and store-bought cake were not the worst things in the world. They were the minor inconveniences that most everybody was dealing with given the pandemic. But in a way that was its own brand of misery: Feeling bad because these exciting things were getting wiped out, and then feeling bad about feeling bad because, actually, things weren't so bad. Zoe hadn't come to any grand conclusions about this emotional conflict other than that the world is complicated. "Wasn't planning on stopping for a while. still got almost a half-tank," her dad replied to her question, and Zoe's head returned from the clouds back into the car. Her swelling bladder counted as a legit concern, she decided, and being stuck in a car needing to relieve herself qualified her to feel slightly miserable. But she also didn't feel much like pressing the issue, putting the whole trip on pause just for her. She felt used to this sort of discomfort, waiting for the right moment to pee. Irrational? Sure, she was aware of that. Ally had no problem announcing to a group full of strangers that she had to pee. She told stories about dashing just off the cross-country course to relieve herself. Zoe didn't even feel comfortable making the request around her own family. Were she still at home she would have gotten up and gone a while ago, but here she was trapped in her seat. Even the best car seat loses comfort a few hours in, doubly so with a full bladder. So she pressed her knees together and closed her eyes softly, as if she could simply relax away the building pressure. Then her sister spoke up. "Well, can we?" Paige asked. "My foot's falling asleep and I have to pee." Sure, Zoe thought, of course she had no issues with bringing it up either. But it was all the better that she did. Their dad bounced his head from side to side, doing the sort of Dad Math that road trips demand. Along with sealing in the juices and keeping a tidy lawn, making good time on a car ride is one of the pillars of fatherhood. He settled on a course of action. "All right, we'll get to the bridge at the end of this road and make a stop there," he said. "Nicer bathrooms than these gas stations I bet, and a pretty nice view, too." An ETA would have been nice, Zoe thought. She could pull her phone back out and punch it in on her GPS but it didn't sound like it would be too long a time. If someone had complained that they were hungry then he might have told them to remember to pack a protein bar next time and kept on driving, but Paige had said she needed a bathroom and he wouldn't ignore that. Zoe scooted back in the seat so that she could lean forward slightly to help with the urge. She glanced at Paige, who hadn't even registered their dad's response and was right back to her phone. Zoe wondered if she actually needed to go or if she was just bored. The car rolled by a few more gas stations and Zoe had to agree they didn't look very appealing. Even as she started feeling the urge all the way down to her toes, where she flexed one set and then the other, she didn't feel too bad about skipping these places. She doubted they were taking extra cleaning measures because of the pandemic, mostly because "extra" implies there was some amount of cleaning going on to begin with. Signs started to appear on the roadside about the upcoming bridge. 6 miles... 4 miles... 2 miles... Zoe started to already feel some measure of relief being so close. Mental relief, anyway. The signs clued her bladder into the sense that she'd be able to go soon and went into overdrive the way it does when you're dying for a pee and a toilet is near. So she had to really concentrate, really squeeze down all those muscles, while reminding herself that her body was just playing a trick on her. The open road began to stack up with some traffic, a fact Zoe remained unaware of as her attention was focused inward. She was ready to be relaxed again, to sit in the car and zone out, to not calculate each movement of her legs. At the moment she had her feet off to the right side and knees pushed together over the left. Then the car hit a bump, threw off her delicate balance, and sent the urge to pee up a few notches. So she swung her feet and knees in the opposite direction. The car slowed from 60 mph, down to 40, then 25, slow enough for Zoe to take note. Her internal clock told her they should be there by now but instead the car would lurch forward, brake, lurch forward, brake, dragging along but never coming to a complete stop. The motion of the car distressed her bladder all the more, the liquid inside drifting back and forth and causing new nerves to send signals of despair to her brain. Her dad shifted the car into the left lane and Zoe watched as the right line grinded to a stop. "Looks like everyone's getting off there for some reason," her dad said. "You good to wait until we get across, Paige? There's another spot just like this on the other side of the bridge." "Uh, yeah, sure," Paige answered. Zoe glanced over and noticed her sister shift her position after answering. I guess she isn't just bored, Zoe thought. Still, she could sense that Paige wasn't as far down the path as she was. Zoe groaned internally as the cycle continued: she had to pee, so thoughts of sitting on a toilet and letting it all go filled her mind... but those thoughts only intensified the urge. The car rolled on, slowly now that the road converged into one lane over the bridge. Zoe looked out at the bay glistening in the sunlight, a pretty sight were it not for the fact that endless water was the last thing she wanted to focus on right now. Two things became quickly apparent: first of all, this wasn't the sort of bridge she expected. She couldn't see the other side, the road stretching as far as she could see, even looking like it disappeared at one point. Secondly, all those people exiting at the north end of the bridge seemed to know something her dad didn't because the car soon came to a complete stop with only brake lights ahead. "Why aren't we moving?" her brother asked from the middle seat. "I don't know, bud," her dad replied from the front. He turned to their mom. "Hun, can you check the GPS? It's usually not this bad this far away from the tunnel." Then he clicked off the air conditioning and rolled down the front windows, filling the minivan with the scent of the water. "Pretty cool view though, right?" he asked the rest of the car. "I always loved this part when we came this way when I was a kid. It starts as this bridge, then turns into a tunnel, then back into a bridge! Really cool, right?" Zoe had no interest in the view. She sat up stiff in her seat in the back row and pulled up her phone, worried. She remembered the name of the bridge from the road signs and punched it in, pulling up the Wikipedia page. She felt her eyes start to bulge out of their sockets when she read the first sentence. The Chesapeake Bay Bridge–Tunnel (CBBT) is a 17.6-mile (28.3 km) bridge–tunnel crossing at the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay, the Hampton Roads harbor, and nearby mouths of the James and Elizabeth rivers in the U.S. state of Virginia. 17.6 miles! She pulled both of her feet up onto the seat and pressed her knees together. Even if they were going 60 mph, it would take them 17 minutes to make it all the way across. And they were decidedly NOT going 60 mph. Every time they got even a little bit of speed they'd immediately have to slow down, often to a total stop. She wiped away a little bit of sweat that had started to form over her eyes and went to open her Maps app to see how long this was going to take, but her mom got there first. "Slowdown on your route," she read from her phone's screen. "Red, red, red..." she narrated as she scrolled to trace the line on the map indicating heavy traffic. "Oh, it looks like it doesn't turn blue again until we're through the tunnel." Zoe groaned, aloud this time, and tilted her head back in frustration. She could feel her stomach growing tight, the weightiness of her full bladder pushing against her other organs. She was used to a small level of discomfort that came with her preference for privacy, but she was willing to give that up when she needed to go like this. It's one thing to put it off ten more minutes in class rather than ask for a hall pass or to hold out until her sister or brother asked to stop. It was another thing to be stuck on this bridge, inching along, without the option of a bathroom no matter how willing she was to admit it. Her groan and her feet on the seat caught the attention of her sister next to her. Zoe turned her head slightly, then quickly turned away before making eye contact. Too late. "Wishing we would've stopped before the bridge?" Paige asked with a tiny grin. She had of course noticed her sister's slightly odd toilet habits over the years. She found it curious more than anything else and didn't bring it up much, but every now and then it was fun to poke at her older sister. Zoe gave a non-committal shrug, but the way she dropped her feet back to the floor in an effort to look unconcerned told Paige all she needed to know. "Yeah, me too," Paige said. "But at least I don't have to go like this." She lifted her own feet and mimicked an exaggerated version of Zoe's old position. Their father saw in the rearview mirror and half-turned. "You okay back there, Paige? If I knew it was going to be like this I would've stopped back at the bathrooms before the bridge." "Oh, I'll be okay until we stop," Paige replied, shifting back to normal. "Zoe's the one who really needs to go." Zoe felt her cheeks heat up, getting drawn into precisely the kind of conversation she hated. "I'm fine, too," she said quickly, but she could tell with her core tightening to keep a hold on her swollen bladder that she didn't sound as non-chalant as her sister. "Well you could have asked at any time and we would've stopped," her mom said. "Now you're just going to have to hold it. Brake lights!!" She pointed ahead frantically. Zoe's dad quickly jammed the brake pedal to bring the van to a stop. Zoe clenched her jaw as she lurched foward, the seatbelt pressing hard against her waist. She let out an audible groan. The persistently growing dull ache, was turning more acute by the minute. Her bladder was no longer asking for relief, it was practically begging for it. She tried to draw in some deep breaths and relax as they got moving again, but it felt like there wasn't even room inside her for her lungs to expand anymore. Just an ocean of pee inside her, stretching the walls of her bladder ever further. She had felt the nerves down there tingling before but now it felt like they were on fire. She lifted her right leg over her left, pressing her thighs together and curling up her toes inside her sneakers. Her need to pee was becoming a full-body concern. The traffic moved -- slowly, but they were moving -- and Zoe stared out the window at some boats on the water in the distance, but her concentration was broken again and again by the pounding going on inside of her. Zoe noticed the van coming up on a portion of the shoulder of the road widen with a sign marked "Emergency Pull Off." Two cars were parked there and as they passed by Zoe wondered if either was stopped for the kind of emergency she was experiencing. Her mind recoiled at the idea of having to pee on the side of the road. Or maybe, she realized with creeping dread, it was because that scenario was starting to become a possibility. She really, really needed to pee and this bridge seemed to go on forever. Before she could start rehearsing in her head a way to ask about it, she firmly reminded herself that emergencies were what little kids had, not girls her age. She uncrossed and re-crossed her legs, careful not to turn her head and make eye contact with Paige because Zoe sensed how unnatural the movement must have looked. But everything needed to be done delicately, she thought, to maintain order and balance within herself. It felt like one wrong move was going to make her burst. Out the front of the window she spotted a sign over the road: TUNNEL 1 MILE AHEAD. She let out a long exhale. That's when the traffic would really start moving again and even that would be a win. It was the slow crawl of traffic that was the torture, the knowledge that if things were moving normally they'd already be back on the road after a stop. But instead her urgently-needed toilet break was just Out There in the future, delayed for no good reason. Zoe couldn't sit up straight anymore without a searing reminder in her abdomen, so she leaned forward slightly up against the tension of the seatbelt, her legs still firmly crossed. She could see the flashing lights from a siren as her family's van finally arrived near the incident that holding everybody up. They slowed one final time to pass narrowly by the police car and the broken-down car it was trying to assist, hood open. "Finally," her dad said as he hit the gas. "Shouldn't be too much longer from here," he announced to the rest of the car. They reached the tunnel and Zoe took advantage of the dimmer light to press her hand between her thighs, to finally push back against the immense pressure. Her chest still felt tight but she cherished the moment of relief until the pounding of her overfull bladder returned all too soon. The tunnel ramped up and daylight filled the van again. They were back above the water, zipping along now. Zoe released her hand from between her thighs. She closed her eyes, imagining a superpower where she could simply wish away the demanding impusle. But with a thumping wave of pressure, her body reminded her she was merely human. All that pee stored inside of her was going to have to go somewhere, and soon. Zoe started to remember the one time her toilet shyness had almost gotten her into serious trouble: freshman year, gym class. She'd been held up by a teacher in her biology class and rushed to get changed so she could pee before going out to the softball field. But a group of older girls were around the toilets and so she decided to wait until after and use the bathroom closer to her next class which she'd found to be less crowded. And so she did, successfully making it through a softball game without once fielding or throwing a ball. Walking back toward the school she felt her need to pee was about as bad as she would let it get and that maybe she'd use the toilet in the changing room anyway. That's when the fire alarms went off. Her class stopped outside while the rest of the school emptied out. Zoe waited, waited, waited for the fire drill to end and to be let back in, growing more and more desperate. Word got around that this wasn't a fire drill. Someone said there was a fire in the cafeteria. Someone else said that wasn't true and someone must've just pulled the alarm. She didn't care about the particulars, she was just interested in getting to a toilet. It took almost all of the next class period, 45 minutes, for a fire truck to finally show up. That was 45 minutes of standing around, no distractions, just an ache that got worse and worse until her legs were bouncing and... In the van, she stopped daydreaming to realize that her legs were bouncing right now. This was getting to be worse than that day. Plus she had seen a couple of guys and at least one girl dash into the woods adjacent to the school. It was quite apparent why, and while the thought of half the school seeing her make that trek to relieve herself horrified her, she had just started to consider it when the fire marshal gave the all-clear, the bells rang, and students were let back in. She made a beeline for the stalls and practically melted with relief as she sat down. At least that day there was another option, as much as she detested it. Now they were on a one-lane bridge with no shoulder. She had to pee so bad and her only choice was to wait, to hold it all back. She thought she was having déjà vu when she looked out the front and saw a sign: TUNNEL 1 MILE AHEAD "There's another tunnel?!" she asked, her exasperation getting the best of her. "Yes, but we're almost there," her mother replied. "Look, you can see the main land over there. Just keep holding it, okay?" Zoe bit down hard on her lip, partially from embarrassment and partially because she needed somewhere to direct her increasingly nervous energy. For a brief moment her body was able to focus on that sensation, but the throbbing need to pee quickly interceded and washed back over her. They dipped down into the second tunnel and this time Zoe bent forward and buried both hands between her legs, shoving them against her pee hole. God, I have to pee SO bad, she thought to herself. Her cheeks were hot and there were beads of sweat on her forehead and along the waistband of her leggings, but she felt goosebumps pop up on her arms and a cold shiver ran through her. The car emerged and Paige looked over to see her sister in dire need of relief. She'd certainly never seen Zoe like this, and come to think of it, she couldn't really remember anyone looking quite so desperate. Well, except for maybe Kinsley, their 3 year old cousin who was just starting to master potty training the last time they'd seen her. Paige stifled a smile at the thought of Zoe being reminded to use the potty and turned away. Zoe pulled her hands out and pushed against the seat with stiff arms. Some parts of her body were growing numb but the searing anguish was only becoming more acute. She uncrossed her legs and almost immediately they started to jiggle wildly up and down. With a great effort she managed to reduce it to a quiver, but she had to pee so, SO bad that she was losing control over herself. She pushed her butt back down against the seat, still bent over in agony. Her heart seemed to jump up into her throat as the van slowed again. Zoe looked up, terrified of more traffic, but saw the tollbooth instead. Her legs started dancing all on their own again. She had to pee worse than she'd ever had to in her entire life, but she had made it over the bridge. She didn't even bother to try and stop her bouncing thighs. She was SO close. The van rolled off the exit ramp and into a parking lot. Zoe was singularly focused on holding back the ocean of pee inside of her and stem the ever-rising tide. They slipped into a parking space and she undid her seatbelt. With the fabric no longer digging into her waist she sensed a brief reprieve from the pressure, but that disappeared as soon as she darted out the side door. A roaring spasm shocked her body and she had no choice but to quickly grab herself to prevent an eruption. Her mom stepped out of the front passenger door just in time to see. "For God's sake, Zoe, keep it together," she said disapprovingly. Sure, the traffic was terrible and she was looking forward to relieving herself too but she couldn't quite believe her oldest daughter had let it get this bad. "I'm going to go get some food for the rest of the drive while you and your sister run off to the bathroom. What about you, Chase, are you hungry or do you need to pee first, too?" Zoe didn't wait around for her brother's answer and instead started beelining it toward the building with the bathrooms. Paige followed behind while her parents and brother went toward the building on the opposite side of the parking lot. Every step seemed to magnify the pressure tenfold. She could only manage the shortest of breaths as the the weight of all that pee pushing down was becoming completely unbearable. She was DYING to get to a toilet. Her vulva was pounding with a tension she wouldn't have been able to imagine if she weren't living through it. She made it halfway there before glancing over at her sister and noticing something on her wrist. Oh, FUCK. She froze. "Oh god I forgot my mask...! Oh god PLEASE let me borrow yours and go and you can get mine from the car, please!" She pleaded. "Come on, I have to pee, too." Paige protested. "Not this bad, I swear to God, PLEASE!" Zoe was doubled over. "I'm seriously about to pee in my pants, I can't go all the way back to the car, please!" Paige gave a sigh and pulled her mask off her wrist and handed it to Zoe, who grabbed it and took off like a relay racer. "Thank you thank you thank you!" She called as she took off once again, while Paige turned around to track down her parents to get the keys. Zoe came up to the building, slipped on her mask and pranced through the doors, looking around frantically. To the left was a bank of what used to be pay phone; to the right she saw the sign for the restrooms. She passed by the men's room, sheepishly looking at the ground to avoid the stares she knew she was getting. There was no hiding it, her jagged walk a telltale sign of her frantic desperation. She rounded the corner and nearly burst into tears. There was a line down the hallway of nearly 20 women. No, no, NO! She had made it all this way, waited and waited, held it and held it. There was no way she was going to be able to make it through a line this long. She collapsed her weight against the wall and dug her hand into her crotch again. She HAD to hold it, she thought to herself. There was no other choice. The line had hardly moved by the time Paige caught up. "Jesus, this line sucks," Paige said. "I guess a lot of people really needed to go after all that traffic." "You seriously have NO idea how bad I have to go right now," Zoe said nervously. "I can't even, like, I can't even think right now, I have to PEE!" She was keeping her legs stiff, muscles clenched, but they were getting wobbly all on their own, exhausted from the task of holding back so much pee. Paige pulled her phone out of her pocket. "Hey, mom just texted." She paused. "Here, look!" She added with some giddiness. It took Zoe a second to be able to focus her eyes on the screen. She read: "Almost no line for the family bathroom over here." "Should we go?" Paige asked. Zoe looked helplessly at the line in front of her. "I don't even know if I can move without peeing..." "Come on, this line is going to take forever. You can make it," Paige said. Zoe pushed her weight off the wall and her knees buckled. She gave the line more look. "Fuhhhhhh-" Another spasm caused her to shiver. "Fine, okay, let's go." Zoe honestly wasn't sure she could take another five steps without losing control but somehow she managed to stumble back outside the building. Her bladder was screaming in agony, desperate beyond belief to push out a torrent of hot pee. She had to pause and grab herself yet again, a split-second away from a drop escaping. "You could just pee between cars," Paige offered, slightly impressed that Zoe had managed to make it even this long. Zoe felt more than ready for that. She wasn't sure where her bathroom anxiety went. She wasn't even sure if two plus two equaled four. Right now the only thing she was absolutely certain about was that she was at her absolute limit and needed to pee RIGHT NOW. "Oh wait," Paige said. "There's like, cops all around." Zoe let out a loud, embittered sigh. Wave after wave of pressure was engulfing her body as she came closer and closer to gushing pee into her underwear. With actual tears filling her eyes, she started across the parking lot. She could barely lift her feet off the ground, nearly dragging them the entire way. Paige opened up the door and Zoe hopped inside. Her gaze immediately found the bathroom. A mother was exiting with her toddler son and another went in. There was only one other person on line, a young mother with a baby in a carrier strapped in and a diaper bag in her hand. Zoe managed to shuffle her way over and stood behind them. She wiped her eyes dry and then grabbed herself with both hands, launching into a full-on peepee dance. This was it, she was SO close but god she had to pee SO bad. Her bladder was pulsing and her heart was pounding as beneath her mask she chewed on her lower lip. Her vulva and her thighs were burning, past their breaking point and begging to give up. Her body was defeated and revolting against her, and it was only pure will was keeping Zoe from soaking her legging with pee. Her bladder was contracting, trying to squeeze it out, but by some miracle she found a way to draw it back in. Then she heard some footsteps behind her, and a voice. "This is NOT how a girl your age acts, Savannah! Do you understand me?!" Zoe turned to see a very angry-looking mother scolding a girl who looked to be about 9 or 10. Zoe could only see the girl's eyes above her mask but the sheer horror in them told the story. That and the hand wedged between her legs. Zoe couldn't bear to look at anyone else as desperate to pee as she was so she turned away, but the mother's running commentary behind them was somehow worse. "You'd better be keeping those panties dry or else you're going to be in big trouble, Savannah! Am I clear?" "Yes, mommy." "We went through this on our trip to Granny's last winter, didn't we? You're going to be in 5th grade next year but if you act like a preschooler there are going to be consesquences. I made that clear, didn't I?" "Yes." "Good. So you're going to be a good girl and keep your panties dry?" Zoe grabbed herself even harder. She couldn't imagine how Savannah must have been feeling. It was almost impossible to hold it all in as it was. She grinded her thighs together around her hand as hard as she could. If someone was lecturing her like this she was pretty certain she wouldn't be able to do it. "Yes!" The girl exclaimed, but Zoe could tell how unconfident she sounded. "Or else-" "Mom, please!" The mom ignored the protest. "Or else I'm going to have to get you some more peepee pullups. Is that what you want?" A few seconds passed. "You answer me when I ask you a question, Savannah! Do you want to wear big girl panties or peepee pullups?" Zoe half-turned and saw the mortified girl covering her face with the one hand she had free. "Big girl panties," she could just barely hear the muffled reply. Zoe gave Paige a look and titled her head toward the younger girl. She couldn't believe she was about to do this, but her heart was aching for this poor girl. Zoe balled her fists and dug her fingernails into her palms, then turned around fully. "Um, do you want to go ahead of us?" she asked. It was apparent the mother had been too caught up in her own world to notice Zoe's obvious distress. "Yes, that would be great," she replied matter-of-factly, taking Savannah's wrist and leading her in front of Zoe and Paige. Paige stared at her sister, keeled over and grabbing herself once again, in shock. The door opened and the mother with the baby carrier started toward it. The other mother stepped forward too. "Would it be too much trouble if we jumped ahead?" she asked. The mother with the carrier turned and, noticing Savannah with her legs crossed tightly, gave a sympathetic look, then pointed to the carrier. "Sorry, but no, I've really got to get my baby changed and get back on the road." With that, she went in and closed the door. "Okay, Savannah," the other mother turned back to her daughter. "Keep holding it. I better not see one single drop of pee in your undies when we go in there!" Paige turned and looked at Zoe. "What a bitch," she muttered. The mom turned and scowled and both of them, but was unable to tell who had said it. For Zoe it was beyond discomfort, beyond unpleasant, beyond misery. It was absolute torture, all that pee forcing its way down to the very tip of her vulva. She couldn't summon the might to keep her legs the least bit steady. She had to pee so bad that her ears were ringing. Every single fiber of her being was breaking down, unable to withstand the throbbing of her bladder. Her eyes welled with tears once again. She was squeezing her muscles as hard as she could but they were simply exhausted and she could feel her grip slipping. Her abs were so sore it hurt to breathe. She stood doubled over, fingers pushing hard against her pee hole, but it was feeling hopeless. The spasms were no longer coming in waves, it was more like one constant contraction that was overtaking her. Watching the girl in front of her bounce around made it even worse. Zoe regretted letting her go ahead of her. She started wondering what would happen if Savannah DID have an accident. Maybe her mom would angrily pull her aside and Zoe would get to go after all. She thought she heard Savannah gasp and looked on, wondering if she'd see a stain. But instead she just continued on fighting what Zoe knew all too well was a furious, delirious need to pee. The door once again clicked open and out came the mother with the baby carrier. Zoe looked in and this time caught a glimpse of the toilet as Savannah and her mother raced in. That sight, the idea that she was THIS close to the relief that she'd longed for, sent her mind over the edge. "I can't do it," she said, her body trembling. "I don't think I can hold it." "Yeah you can, you're so close," Paige encouraged. "No, seriously, I can't hold it! I have to pee I have to pee I have to PEEEEEEE!" Zoe's eyes filled with tears of pure torment. Her bladder throbbed so violently she felt it in her toes. A jet of hot pee shot down and even with both hands pressing back she was powerless to stop it from gushing out and saturating her underwear. "Oh god, it's coming, it's coming!" Zoe bit down on her bottom lip so hard she nearly drew blood. Her body had felt a microscopic tinge of relief and it was demanding more. It all burned with relentless force, another surge of pee shooting straight through her defenses. Her vulva was hot with tension but she could still feel the effect of the warm pee in her panties. "I can't, I can't..." she choked out in a high-pitched squeal, feeling more and more helpless. She was rapidly losing control of her body. A trickle of pee started anew and Zoe felt it grow to a full-on stream, rapidly soaking her underwear. She managed to cut it off but the urge was so overwhelming and her legs were growing so weak she had to hold one arm out for balance. Her right hand remained buried between her legs, her sweaty fingers realizing a different moisture. Paige looked to her sister with alarm. "You're so close! Keep holding, keep holding!" She stood in astonishment as another rush of pee poured out, instantly staining the front of her sister's leggings. "Oh my god, you're actually peeing your pants!" Zoe's chest shuddered with raw embarrassment. She couldn't do this. Not right here. Not right now. She rejected the very notion that she could be standing here, 18 years old, having an accident in her pants. It seemed so impossible and yet she felt another convulsion and her thighs burn with sizzling pee once again. She stumbled forward toward the bathroom door and pounded it on. "Please hurry," she whimpered. "Please hurry up!" She heard an echoey voice from inside. "-back in pullups because you can't keep your panties dry like a big girl!" Zoe moaned in agony. Her mind seemed to give up. She hadn't been able to keep her panties dry. She stepped back from the door and rocked back and forth, bent at the knees and doubled over. She had nothing left to give, no strength left. A torrential wave of scorching pee exploded from her, causing a giant stain to spread across her wide butt. Paige stood, mouth agape beneath her mask, watching her older sister lose the battle. This was making her own need to pee start to feel urgent. Another eruption of pee came and with Zoe's inner thighs and butt already drenched, droplets splashed onto the floor. Zoe's lips were trembling in horror of the real-life nightmare she was powerless to stop. Her fingers pushed against herself in abject vain. More pee burst out of her and stained the entire left thigh of her leggings in a flash. Her last defense fell and she started peeing so forcefully it stung. The volume of it all was too great for her urethra and it began to hiss as it poured out, drowning her underwear and leggings. The stain spread until hardly any of the original light purple color remained, replaced with a dark, soggy violet. She tried to clamp down but her muscles were too exhausted to respond. The stream slowed for three seconds only to erupt again, flowing all the way down her legs, dripping off her feet, and widening the puddle beneath her. She looked up, the immediately turned away. Her mom, dad, and brother were walking over with their food. She couldn't stand to make eye contact with anyone. The hissing ceased and the stinging torrent finally began to slow, but she was still wetting her pants as she turned around to see her mom. "Zoe... oh my GOD!" The bathroom door opened behind her and Paige dashed in, grabbing herself. Savannah looked up at Zoe with puffy red eyes, while her mother led her away by the wrist. "Looks like you're not the only one who needs more potty training," she said to her daughter. Zoe dropped her head, staring directly at the yellow pond she'd created. 2020. What a miserable year. I have a n idea for a Part II, but considering I started writing this over a year ago... who knows when that might come.
  17. (6-5-5, starting at 2:55 with the intent to post at 3:25 exactly) "Go left here. LEFT!" The aching old car sputtered around a corner, trading a dirt travel for packed gravel. Christy wished she'd just done this on her own but her boss insisted she not do this on her own. Generally when somebody dumps a body they don't stick around to also kill whoever else shows up, she thought. Her newspaper had gotten a call from a blocked number, with a mysterious voice on the other end that said there was a dead body on the side of a creek inside the national park. Christy had practically grown up in the park and couldn't believe what she was hearing. It was an intern who had taken the call and the poor girl frantically flagged down the editor to listen in. Once Christy heard the details, she immediately volunteered to take a trip out and see what was going on. Of course, her editor had called the police to inform them of what was going on, but she wanted to beat them there. It's not like she was going to touch anything, but she'd be able to get a much better picture if she was able to get there before they taped off the area and made her wait 100 feet away. So she raced off along with the intern, and about two minutes into the drive Christy remembered what she was about to do when the call came in: use the bathroom. The excitement of the pursuit and the possible story were fueling her body more than any cup of coffee could ever do, but then again, she had also had three cups and hadn't yet taken a pee break that day. The intern, Becky, drove the car into the park while Christy shot b-roll footage out the window that they could use for a story on the website. But now she was wishing she had driven, because she knew the park and the trails way better. She would've had time to stop and pee and would still be ahead of where Becky was. "Come on, I think I hear a siren! We have to get there first!" She hadn't meant to sound that urgent, but the pressure in her bladder was increasing quickly and it was more than irritating. This potentially huge story was unfolding and she was thinking more and more about her stretched-out bladder. "I'm trying, this road sucks!" Becky complained. It was a valid point, with all the dust being kicked up it probably wasn't a great idea to speed. "Just... keep going, this road just runs parallel to the creek. Once it splits, stay to the right and stop at the cutout that's like a mile after." Christy ended the video on her phone and with a moment of nothing to do felt the urge to pee REALLY hit hard. She squeezed her muscles tight and tried to distract herself with something else on her phone but the horse was already out of the barn. She had to pee BAD. Becky finally got the car parked and Christy jumped out, running over to where she knew the mysterious voice had described. She kept an ear out for the siren she thought she'd heard but all quiet, but even still she couldn't slow her gait down. She was feeling the rush of the story, to be sure, but more importantly her bladder wasn't giving her the opportunity to stand still. She ran best she could along the trail, keeping a tight hold on her bladder. Years of soccer in high school with the intense tournaments where one game started as soon as the last one ended had trained her on how to run with an overflowing bladder. She finally reached the egde of a small ravine, looked down, and gasped. Sitting stop a pile of leaves was a black bag, exactly as the mysterious caller had said. Prancing on the spot in a nervous thrill, she turned. Becky was lagging far behind, carrying the equipment. "Hurry the fuck up!" Christy shouted to her. She took some pictures with her phone but she really needed the camera to get one that would be good enough to run in the paper. Finally the intern caught up and Christy ripped the bag from her hand, unpacking the camera. "Holy shit, holy shit," she said to herself as she snapped photos of the scene. She heard the sirens, this time for real. Her time to shoot the scene was running out, and her need to pee was growing more and more intense. A wave of desperate pressure hit, and she dropped the camera as she used one hand to hold her pussy. "Get the fucking camera and come on," she ordered Becky. "If they catch us here they can make us hand this shit over." The sirens got louder as they drew closer, so Christy cut down a different trail. Her bladder was absolutely bursting, so she knew it was time to apply another lesson she'd learned from those earlier years: how to pee your pants while running. She eased off the pressure just enough to start it coming out. Not the violent, hissing flow of a defeated bladder but the measured, steady flow of pure relief. Maybe she could have held on another few minutes, maybe not. She took a glance over her shoulder and saw the intern keeping pretty good pace, so Christy kept running. She felt the warm pee soak into her underwear and run down her legs. She was used to doing this in her soccer uniform where could blend the pee into the sweat, but she figured the skirt she was wearing would provide enough coverage. The trickle continued down her legs, the hot yellow pee glistening like the water in the creek. Christy let out a satisfied sigh as she felt her bladder empty out. Finally she came to a stop, safe from the sound of the sirens. She used her hand to wipe off her legs best she could, though some drops kept falling anyway. As she waited for the intern to catch up, she took a long breath in and focused in on the thrill of the narrow escape to go along with the delightfully warm fabric sticking to her beneath the skirt. (Went 5 minutes over, not bad)
  18. Well it's a bit later than I had planned... but I'm back with the next installment. I should warn you that this chapter is light on actual wetting/desperation content. It's more of a set-up for the next chapter but I do hope you'll enjoy it anyway. ------------------------------------ Sarah awoke on Saturday morning without even a one-second respite from the horror of last night. Her stomach was tied in knots and she couldn't stop her brain from replaying the scene. She could practically hear Gabby's cackling laughter and feel her entire growing hot, her face with humiliation and her legs with the pee she tried so valiantly to hold back. Gabby had just left her there in the cheerleader's locker room as she rejoined the team and went back out to the field. Sarah stood there frozen in shock, like her brain was stuck in a vice grip. She was eventually able to stumble around and find towels to dry up the puddle she had made, and she changed out of her soaked jeans and squeezed into a pair of warm-up pants someone had left out on the bench. She texted her mom that she wasn't feeling well and walked home, arriving just early enough to wash the scent off of her. "What's wrong?" Her mom, Theresa, had asked when she got home and saw Sarah on the couch looking miserable. "Nothing," Sarah had replied, straight-faced. It wasn't a great answer but it was easier to say that than "everything." Or "oh, you know, just the usual, I peed in my pants two times in the first week here and I haven't made any friends and the popular girls make fun of me and I know you're paying a lot of money to send me to that school but I'd rather be dropped to the bottom of a volcano or be launched onto one of the moons of Jupiter than go back on Monday." "Nothing," she had repeated with a sigh, getting up off the couch and going to her room. She peeled herself out of bed now in the same slow manner and walked down the hallway to the bathroom. She pulled her pajama pants down and sat on the toilet to pee. This is NOT that freaking hard, she silently admonished herself. Just be a normal girl and pee in the toilet and not in your pants! She finished up and made her way downstairs for breakfast. Her mom had a plate waiting for her. "How are you feeling today?" Her mom asked. Sarah put her best face on and even forced a smile. "Better, I guess." "Good. You missed a really exciting game last night. It was really fun," Theresa said. Sure, Sarah thought. It was fun if you were sitting in the stands getting to know all the rich, vapid, tanned Southern California moms. Less fun if you were running around underneath the field desperate for a bathroom. "So anyway," her mom continued. "It's good you're feeling better because Shannon's friend Luke is having a birthday tonight. I met him and his mother last night and they invited Shannon to sleep over but we're all invited to the big barbeque they're throwing in the evening." Sarah stared down at her plate. She didn't really want to go to some big party but she had already said she was feeling better. She shrugged her shoulders. "Cool," she managed to choke out, monotone. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * They arrived at Luke's house and could hear the music blasting from the back yard. They rang the doorbell and the man who opened the door greeted them with a friendly but quizzical look. The "I don't know who you are, and I hope I'm not supposed to know who you are." "Hi there... I'm Theresa, Shannon's mother," she gestured to her younger daughter. "I met Luke and his mother last night at the game and they invited us..." she trailed off, hoping that would suffice. "Oh sure, sure! I'm Luke's father... you know, Darth Vader!" he paused for effect. Theresa gave a courtesy chuckle at the daddest of all dad jokes. "Actually, I'm James, you must have met my wife, Stacey. We've been busy getting ready all day so she must have just forgotten to fill me in. No worries though!" He spotted Shannon's backpack. "Ah, staying for the sleepover? Come with me and I'll show you were you can drop it off and where Luke is..." Then he nodded toward Sarah and her mom. You two can just go right around back, Stacey's out there and Luke's older sisters are, well, somewhere. Nice to meet you!" Sarah went with her mother to the backyard where the party was in full swing. Like everything else, the magnitude of it all took her by surprise. This definitely qualified as a Rich Person Party. Many of the dads were huddled around the multiple grills while the mothers sat at the table sipping on cocktails. The swimming pool was opened up and swarmed by kids of all ages. It seemed like they had invited half the neighborhood in addition to whatever family was there. Sarah sighed. Another place she didn't fit in. The pool seemed refreshing but she hadn't brought a swimsuit and even if she had she would have second and third thoughts about showing her body in it compared to all the other women and girls there. She also didn't want to be the only one her age sitting with all the moms. She grabbed a seltzer out of the cooler and sat down on a chaise lounge chair by the pool. She saw a group of girls hanging out by the giant lawn games, stacking and removing huge Jenga blocks. They seemed a few years older than her, like they were in college. So Sarah wasn't about to go and try to be a part of that group. She ended up settling into the chair and pulling her out her phone, trying to look preoccupied. She finished off her can of seltzer and went to grab another one. This woke something up in the back of her brain, bringing back the sense of dread. Is this just how it's going to be now? She wondered. Every time I get something to drink I'm going to freak myself out about getting to the bathroom on time? She wandered around the yard sipping from the new can. She still didn't recognize anybody. And there wasn't even anybody who seemed to be in the same boat as her. Everyone else seemed to know at least SOMEBODY and was having fun doing trick jumps off the diving board, playing bocce ball, sitting around and talking, or a million other things. She didn't even see Shannon anywhere. She must be inside somewhere with all her friends. Ready to just head back to her chair and try to pass the time, Sarah lifted the seltzer to her lips and was surprised to find it empty. She detoured back over to the coolers, and again the sense of horror echoed in the back of her head. This time she decided it would probably be a good idea to listen, though, since she was feeling the first twinges in her bladder. With two cans of seltzer making their way through her a trip to the bathroom sounded like a good idea before drinking any more. It was at this moment that it occured to her that she didn't know where the bathroom was. But she had seen people filtering in and out of the house through the sliding door on the deck so she knew it must be inside somewhere. She started up the stairs to the deck and toward the door but before she got there it opened up and a gaggle of sixth-graders came pouring out. Behind her, Sarah heard one of the moms calling to the children in the pool. "Time to get out... The food is ready!" Of course. Of COURSE. Just when she started to have to pee, of course it would happen this way, she thought. Her mind almost tripped over itself in a rush to panic. She she was going to have to go back down, sit at a table for who-knows-how-long, all the while having to pee worse and worse as those seltzers hit her bladder. It was going to be just like last night and just like the first day of school, Sarah shifting and squirming to hold it in while the universe conspired against her... No, Sarah decided. That wasn't happening. Not this time. Not today. She waited for the sixth graders to finally get out the door. She tried to catch Shannon's attention but her sister was engrossed in conversation. Whatever, no time to be jealous now. She stepped inside where the last few stragglers were making their way toward the door. She made eye contact with one, she recognized as one of the college-age-looking girls from outside earlier. "Hey, do you know if the bathroom is that way, or...?" Sarah asked, trying to sound casual and pointing down the hallway. "It's just back that way," she replied, pointing in the other direction. "On the right." "Thanks." Sarah felt a more intense twinge in her bladder now. It wasn't an emergency, far from it. But thanks to the events of last night, apparently now a basic task like using the bathroom was a capital-B Big Deal. She felt a new kind of anxiety as she walked down the hallway, even as she tried to tell herself how silly it was. Sure the seltzer she drank was starting to hit her but she was literally steps away from a toilet. On Monday it had been a quick, pulsing kind of anxiety when she was in the bathroom and racing for a stall just when the pee started to trickle out of her. A race against time to get inside and sit down, a race that she didn't win but didn't totally lose, either. Yesterday it was a slow, agonizing anxiety, standing in the cheerleader's locker room with no choice but to do what Gabby said and leap into the air with her legs spread. She knew there was no possible way she could do that without the seal breaking but she had to anyway. And then reaching for the doorknob, her hand slipping off as her bladder caved and sent all that hot pee pouring out into her underwear and jeans. This wasn't like that. Thank god. If she really had to she could turn around, go outside, sit down and eat, and then use the bathroom after and she'd be okay. This was just her mind building it all up into something it's not, she reassured herself. But the anxiety persisted. She got to the bathroom and tried to turn the handle. Locked. It's okay, she told herself, just the universe fucking with you. This is just a routine trip to the toilet, stop making it something it's not. Sarah waited patiently outside the door. She honestly didn't need to go that badly at all. She wasn't bouncing or hopping or dancing or anything like that. Just a girl waiting for the door to open. But the anxiety persisted. She heard a flush, and then the running of the sink. See? Nothing to it. The handle clicked and the door swung open. Finally the anxiety lifted. Sarah was still looking down, waiting for whoever was inside to come out. Instead they seemed to be standing still in the doorway. She started to lift her head when she heard it. A voice. That voice. Her voice. "Oh my god, what are you doing here?" ------------------------------------ As always, any feedback is greatly appreciated! And if you have any ideas for a situation you'd like to see with these characters let me know either here or over PM. If it wasn't obvious from the three and a half year delay I'm not exactly overstocked with ideas. I consider creativity my biggest weakness so I'm happy to hear any and all ideas from you. ✌️
  19. The thing about falling asleep is you never "know" when it happens. You can only register such things when you're awake. The day shift worker responsible for shutting off the brain clocks out before the one in charge of officially switching the body from awake to asleep. So that's bad news for an 18-year-old girl lying in her bed, waiting for the bathroom to open. Especially when the pillow is so comfortable, the sheets so warm and inviting, and the darkness filling the room. Her body starts to assign tasks over to autopilot. Blinking gets slower and slower until her eyes are closed. Her breathing steadies and slows down to a pace that's enough to keep the air flowing but not much more. And the brain begins to turn off. One by one, the day shift clocks out and the night shift checks in. The night shift is great at what they do: Forming the days' events into memories, dreaming, checking to make sure the heart is pumping, and sending the right proteins to repair muscles so they're fresh tomorrow. But they're not so prepared for a full bladder. It's not even on their radar. They're used to the routine: She pees before bed, and then pees when she gets up. As far as they're concerned, it's a day shift problem. So there's nothing in place to actually receive the signal when bladder cries out. "Just flip over," are the only instructions her body gets, and so she does. Meanwhile her bladder is confused. It's sending the right signals but not waking her up. It has more liquid inside than it can handle. "WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP" it sends up to the brain, but again the calls go unanswered. A quick spurt of pee eases the pressure, wetting her underwear beneath her pajamas. Surely this will get the brain's attention? No dice. Time for another spill, this time a few seconds. The pee streams out, wetting through her underwear into her pajamas, gravity bringing it down the back of her leg and even getting the sheets wet. "LAST CALL," her bladder pleads to her brain. But the only thing her brain registers is the sudden rise in temperature between her legs, a pleasant warmth. And so her bladder calls the whole thing off. Walks off, closes shop, shuts it down.... her brain obviously isn't listening so her bladder decides it's not going to do it's job either and just lets go. And go it does, the hot yellow pee flowing freely into her underwear, her pajamas, and her bed. With nothing in place to stop the presses the stream hisses out of her, puddling up beneath her hip and pooling down to her knee. Her brain feels nothing but the continued warmth down her leg. Even just a quarter full, there's no stopping now. She lies still in bed, blissfully asleep as she completely pees in her bed, sweet relief to her bladder. A day-shift brain worker suddenly stumbles in and realizes what's going on. "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!?!" it asks, causing her to finally snap awake.
  20. New chapter to this is coming soon. Hopefully.
  21. I have started, stopped, and restarted chapter three about fifteen times but I think I've *finally* got the one worth going with. Challenging myself to have something final written by the end of the month, either this or one of the dozen of one-shot ideas I've had.
  22. I get that but this thread for instance is now a day old and still showing 0 views.
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