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Sonador

💛 Gold Member
  • Posts

    156
  • Joined

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Personal Information

  • My pronouns are..
    he/him

My Kinks

  • I'm into..
    Ageplay
    Bathroom Control
    Diapers
    Watersports
    Bondage
    Crossdressing
    Cuddling
    Exhibitionism
    Farting
    Furry
    Master / Pet
    Messing
    Sadism / Masochism
    Stomach bulging
    Tomboys

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Sonador's Achievements

  1. Picked this up yesterday and I've been having a lot of fun with it! I'm normally pretty picky with this kinda stuff and I'm so burned out on unfinished kink RPG Maker games. It's great this one is finished, and it's got a lot of polish, you can tell this wasn't something someone spent a weekend on coding and spiriting a bit while working the bike pump. The writing is a little campy, but it's far from anything I'd define as bad. It's pretty decent for a kink game. The locations so far in the early game are pretty cookiecutter RPGMaker faire, but save for hiring a pixel artist or really shopping around for tilesets that might look horrid kludged together, it's pretty passable. That's about all I can really say when it comes to anything resembling a negative, and even that's a stretch. The spritework for the characters, animations, omorashi stuff, mechanics, and a "kink first, but you can change the game to be more challenging and RPG-focused" approach is novel and ideal for my kinda interest. I'm gonna keep going, I've only gotten Maple and Noelle so far and I've already put them through quite a few situations... My wishing well wish is that eventually the author revisits the game when they've had a chance to relax and recharge and does another detail pass with more content eventually, they've definitely got the knack and investing more time and energy into this could really take it from "pretty dang good" to "fuckin' awesome."
  2. Sonador

    Poses and Short Sequences

    A collection of poses and characters with omorashi, wetting, and bowel-related stuff. These were created (mostly) with Alchemy Next Viewer for Second Life. These are NOT made with SFM! If you use Second Life and would enjoy images like these being made with your character, drop me a private message. I also run a bathroom-fetish themed resort island, you can ask me for the URL if you like!
  3. My parents found out about my kink at one point prior to this and it was really humiliating, but it was a very brief thing, I kept it hidden just fine after that. They definitely don't know I did this for sure. Beyond that, besides the occasional retelling, the people who were originally involved, and getting spotted in public a total of... twice I think? for a brief moment, nope!
  4. I getcha, and I don't mind that in the least! That's most of why I posted this here, so knock yourself out, I'm flattered~
  5. That one I'm playing close to my chest! Old enough to be legal, young enough to still be finishing high school in the US.
  6. Grand total, I'd probably say close to 10ish. I baaarely remember the specifics anymore, alas, so that's my upper estimate - most of my accidents were in the latter half of the second month as I just... ran out of spots to pee. I still tried to be good and make sure I had accidents in "new" places, but an accident's an accident and I obviously didn't get much choice!
  7. Gonna have some more omorashi poses up for you when I get home this morning.

    In the meantime, you get racc tummy.

     

  8. Thank you for the kind words!! I'm really glad I could scratch that itch for you, it's super encouraging.
  9. Feeling slowly more and more 'seen' lately, which is nice. I'll try and contribute more as time and my moods allow!

  10. That's incredibly sweet of you! I appreciate and value you chiming in. I just had to write it down, there was a time even five or so years ago that I remembered more about the discrete days of the hold and the adventures I had, but I only really remember the highlights now >_> I'm just happy to put it somewhere where it's being appreciated. 😄
  11. I'm still surprised I managed, even with the exceptions I got permission for here and there. I chalk a lot of it up to youth and horny determination >_>
  12. Once upon a time, I was young, dumb, and incredibly horny. To preface this story, I have to give a brief rundown of my life as it was 15 years ago. It was 2007, and I'd just started summer break as a freshly young adult. At home, I'd only gotten broadband internet access for the first time two years prior - and it was, as ill-advised as it may have been, totally unsupervised. Up until this point, the internet access I'd had was limited and never private; mostly accessing computers during lunch break at school, or jumping on dial-up for a few hours at my grandmother's place once or twice every couple of weeks and doing a mad dash to get everything I wanted done on an agonizingly slow connection. Back then, my fetishes had just been weird, off-beat fixations I'd indulged on my own without realizing what they actually were. I'd always thought myself weird for liking them and figured I was mostly alone in putting myself through tormenting my bladder, and even then I'd only known them as something sexually gratifying for a few recent years as well. But at this point in time, with unfettered access to the internet, a few friends, an unhinged sex drive, and a lot of spare time, I undertook what was probably the greatest omorashi-driven adventure I've ever embarked on: For a full summer break, two months in length, I didn't pee in the same place twice. This is non-fictional and is an experience I've wanted to jot down before my memory of it changes (any more than it already has, anyway) for quite a while, but I've never had the time or wherewithal to do it. Through a series of convoluted events even I don't really remember, my newfound access to the internet had led me from an anime forum, to an IRC server, to IRC servers at large, and finally to the FurNet IRC community, where I'd found a home that was willing to accept my sheltered and slightly awkward mannerisms. Meanwhile elsewhere, I'd discovered Patches' Place, Peeople, the Peesearch Community, and other Web 1.0 era iconic watersports websites, but had struggled to find places where the content centered around desperation and holding it in - I've always and still do greatly prefer full bladders over anything else pee related and to say my early experiences online were slim pickings was a drastic understatement. I'd spent a lot of time scraping over these websites for desperate stories and images, and what made the FurNet IRC unique was it was my first place I could freely talk about my specific exploits and interests with at least a few other like minded individuals. Like a spring wound up way too tight tight, finding freedom and relief my first partners in omorashi sent me flying at a velocity only a late teenager could achieve into kink adventures. And this brings us to my main story today. I'd just finished telling a story about how I'd not peed all day in the watersports channel, something rather run of the mill for me and nothing really new; and was talking about summer break and having no plans, when someone jokingly replied with, "You should hold it in all summer :7" Needless to say, the human physiology, even for idiots like me that put off the bathroom for extended periods far beyond what's recommended, two months of just not peeing isn't within the realm of possibility, but it did set the hormones in me bubbling in just the right way to get me chatting about fantasies and ideas for something quite extended in length, if a little bit more... realistic. Someone I'd been pretty closely involved with, to the degree we'd both made each other pee our pants several times by then, floated the idea that maybe since I couldn't just bottle it up all summer, I should limit where and how often I drained the tank. We got into a query (the IRC version of DMs) and teased each other around the idea for a bit until finally settling on something I was nervous about, but felt confident in committing to: Seeing if I could go the full two months without emptying my bladder in the same spot twice. The rules were pretty simple and loose: Once I'd peed, whether by having an accident, a significant enough leak to leave pee on the ground, or just going normally, that spot was off-limits from spilling another drop of urine in or on for the rest of the summer break. If I needed an exception, I'd have to ask my partner for permission first by text messaging him (smartphones and mobile broadband were still in their infancy and well beyond my means at the time.) At the end of each day, I'd report in to him so he could keep score. I was a pretty active teen; my grades were poor for myriad reasons, so I had summer school at a pretty large campus to do, I lived in a pretty sprawling urban middle-class town, I had a bike and the relative freedom to go where I pleased, and I had no real obligations beyond said classes to attend to. Considering the relative freedom I had and the unbridled stupid horny thirst for adventure, I was chomping at the bit to begin, and I got permission from him to empty my bladder in my own toilet for the last time unrestricted before bed that night. – The challenge started off easy. The next day, I skipped the toilet at home and before class. I'd wanted my home toilet to stay available for as long as I could for emergencies, and all in all with my places to tinkle limited, it was to make sure I was as full as I could get before I picked a spot to empty myself. It wasn't bad until after lunch - the couple drinks I'd had to beat the summer heat and with my meal finally caught up to me. Sitting in class with a full bladder takes on a novel sense of enjoyment when you know you could ask anytime to go to the bathroom and probably be permitted... but for one reason or another, you should just keep holding it in. The bike ride to my grandmother's place took about a half hour, and our city had notoriously awful sidewalks and roads - my suspensionless cheap BMX bike afforded me no luxuries and my bladder was thoroughly shaken and frothing by the time I got there. I usually stayed at my grandmother's place until the early evening when I went home, so I wanted to save the toilets there until I was having a potty emergency as well. I was fairly sure I wasn't going to be able to hold it in until I got home, though, by this time my body was giving me the telltale signs down below that I wasn't far off before my valve would start leaking. So, I excused myself for a walk. She lived in a pretty ritzy HOA in an upper-middle class neighborhood, and about 10 minutes of funny walking later I was at the pool building. I used our community key, let myself in, slipped into the men's restroom (which was honestly a little creepy, dark, and very disused) and finally went pee in the urinal. It was a rush - it was the first time I'd broken the seal since the challenge began, and looking ahead to two more months of this, getting more and more difficult as it progressed, made me feel weak and vulnerable in an incredibly arousing and exciting way. It's a dragon of sensations I'm still chasing today. I made it home safely that evening with only a slight sense of nature's call, and checked in with my friend, who praised me deeply (and very likely started me down the road that lead to my praise kink) and eventually we wished each other good night, and I tucked into bed with an only slightly full bladder. The next day, I hit my first snag. I woke up with a definitely more than slightly full bladder. Obviously (or perhaps not so obviously - more on that later) the urine in my belly hadn't just magically evaporated at the end of the night, and was still there in the morning, joined by a healthy amount more. I was fine over breakfast and skipped over the toilet at home, but I got to school feeling rather urgent and by the end of first period I was wanting to go potty pretty decently, enough to consider going to take a leak before my next class. Our campus was large - the town I lived in had a population of 38,000 at the time and it was a suburb of one of the largest cities in California - and by my count it had over 10 easily reachable restrooms in various places around campus I could use. 10 different places I could go within a spot I'd be visiting most of the summer was a pretty lenient opportunity to avoid any emergencies, but on the other hand - this was school. I knew people here... and a lot of them knew me. Having an accident there simply wasn't an option, even for a budding exhibitionist like my younger self. My decision was made for me; while I was trying to figure it out, the bell rang, and my swollen bladder and I made our way to my world history class. I couldn't focus in class at all, and I was very, very thankful our teacher was as checked out as I was. We watched Logan's Run for most of the period - well, everyone but I did, I was focused too much on the steadily building need to lose some water weight - and of course, time dragged. I passed notes with the girl behind me, one of my school-friend-acquaintance-pals to burn time, eventually admitting I was dying to pee but didn't really want to ask to be dismissed. She found it amusing more than anything, but we didn't discuss why for obvious reasons; I just made an excuse about not wanting to interrupt the movie and have everyone’s eyes on me (which was also true.) By the end of the period, my back teeth were floating, but I made it. I had no real choice, though, I wasn't going to make it through lunch, and made a beeline for one of the restrooms further away and finally relieved myself. The bliss of finally popping the cork on my poor, swollen jug was pretty terrific, but it was hardly the most dire I'd need to piss that summer. The rest of the day was uneventful, but I was beginning to notice a trend - the earlier I caved in and went potty, the more full I'd be before bed... and the harder the next day would be. My friend and I mused about this, and his suggestion was pretty obvious - just don't pee until I get home so I'd go to bed with a relatively empty bladder. I committed to playing catch-up the next day, and went to bed, finding it a little difficult to sleep on a moderately full bladder, but managing to drift off. The third day brought with it a... different kind of problem. When I woke up, I in fact didn't need to pee. While that was a relief and set me ahead of schedule for the day and that much closer to my prescribed goal, I realized with a bit of shock and a tiny hint of humiliation that I'd wet the bed in my sleep. Or more aptly, soaked. I slept without blankets in the California heat (and mostly without clothes, thankfully) but my undies were soaked and my fitted sheet and mattress protector were waterlogged. I bundled them up to wash later, took a shower, and did my usual thing, but this stuck with my mind enough that before school I texted my partner about it. I had wet the bed a bunch up into my early teens (a growing problem, I figured) and he helpfully suggested a combination of moderate fullness and a tired bladder had spelled my doom. He said we'd talk it over that night (he worked during the day) but praised me for it, which also probably sent me down a path to a bunch of other kinks I have now, come to think about it. I had a couple other ideas in mind that could help prevent that in the future; I always showered before school so that wasn't going to be a problem, but if I was unabashedly watering my bed several times a week not only was I going to fail the challenge but my parents would catch on quick that I was doing an awful lot of laundry. The rest of the day was fine, arriving at home in the evening with only a moderately full bladder and choosing to sneak out in the backyard behind our shed to pop the cork. My partner and I discussed the morning. He offered to give me a mulligan for soaking the bed given it was very unexpected, which I graciously accepted. A few ideas were discussed. The first was diapers. I didn't have anything full size or enthusiast to use, still being freshly and adult and living at my folks' place; but I had about a pack and a half of Goodnites: a youth pull-up style overnight incontinence garment, from several years ago when I was still struggling with bedwetting that I'd never tossed out. They seemed a simple enough, if embarrassing solution... if I could still fit into them. I chimed in that it felt like I'd be failing the challenge, going in one spot repeatedly, even if it was involuntary. He countered that I couldn't really help it given the nature of the challenge - my bladder was definitely being tested, and going to bed with a dangerously full bladder was definitely in my future as opportunities to pee began to run dry. That revelation awoke the beast inside and I was rather markedly horny as we came up with ideas and he teased me about it, until finally we produced a practical but exceedingly lewd solution - we'd count the bedwetting issue as unavoidable and one of the sole exceptions to the peeing in one place rules, provided I did two things: one, I padded up in a pull-up to avoid getting myself into trouble, and two... that I went to bed with a full enough bladder that I could convince him I was doomed to wet myself and he judged it "worth" the excuse. This was a criteria I wound up meeting probably a dozen or so times that summer... most of which towards the end. The first couple weeks of summer were fun, and easy enough to manage. The days started feeling shorter given how much I was occupied, but not enough to diminish that "endless summer" feeling of youth. Most of my more recent slow-burn omorashi adventures had a tendency to peter out because my endurance usually outlasts my partner’s, but for the most part, he was with me every step of the way and loving every minute of it. My partner was kind, gentle, encouraging, teasing, and all around very comfy to have for a challenge like this so early in my exposure to sharing kinks with others. I was also being judicious in my dispensation of pee, trying to strike a balance of going for harder or more out of the way targets to get relief first and saving the convenient and safe spots for emergencies; while still giving myself little convenient treats now and then. Once or twice, I used a school bathroom, but never the same one. I used a restroom in a shop or two on my way home from school. I dared to slink behind a tree in a quiet, shady area in a park out of view of the public. I peed down a storm drain on my way home from my grandmother’s near a cut-through. This and that, here and there, but I managed and the spots to drain my tank stayed pretty plentiful... for now. I did a good job of staying out of the public eye when I got daring, but it didn’t stop my heart racing every time - and I had a perverted sense of pride that I was marking my territory as I went. Occasional gatherings with friends started getting to be more difficult, though; it’s harder to slink off and pee when you’re in company, and just using their toilet would take away any safety net for emergencies… so I exercised some severe restraint and just held it in most of the time, even if it meant doing everything I could to keep my mind off squirming and grabbing at myself. I had a few incidents of being caught out with a bulging bladder - one because I’d had coffee with breakfast one very sleepy morning, which ballooned my bladder and made it very active before I could even finish first period; two because I really had to go but was on a dare to go straight home with it, so I took the bus and it was unkind to the immense amount of pee I was holding in; and a couple others I don’t quite recall beyond knowing I was genuinely worried about leaking. All in all, though, this was the easy part. The third week of summer had some surprises. My partner had been teasing me good-naturedly about not taking the luxury he’d given; padding up and sleeping on a full enough bladder to wet it. After a little back and forth teasing and coaxing over more wanting to do the challenge, I caved and indulged him. Or at least… I tried. A couple nights I skipped emptying my bladder like a good boy when I really should have, sleeping with a fairly full sensation in my lower tummy, padded up for the inevitable… which didn’t happen. Instead, I woke up, bursting to pee. This caused me to burn a few backup spots around my home - I’d managed to avoid the bathroom so far save for the shower, which I had urinated in while washing simply because of absence of mind when I really didn’t need it - because I doubted my ability to last even long enough to make it to school. So, one evening he finally posited a dare. I could have a "free" bathroom break in the toilet the next morning, if I agreed to indulge him by not to peeing all day, putting on a pull-up, and going to sleep on whatever I had stored in my bladder. I took the challenge. I still see that day as a kind of “break” from the original “don’t pee in one spot” challenge as a little token of appreciation to my partner, and I think he appreciated it, judging by how he reacted to what followed. I drained the tank when I woke up in the proffered manner, showered, had breakfast, and headed to class with no sense of urge at all. By lunch, I was developing a bit of a tingle, and on the way to my grandmother’s I needed to pee a fair amount. It was an incredibly hot day, and I stopped into a local dollar shop to cool off, and bought two of their one liter bottles of off-brand soda for a buck each. I gulped one down then and there, and took the other with me. By the time I needed to bike home, I was starting to squirm and cross my legs away from prying eyes; and before I left, I drank down the second liter of soda (which was an incredibly horny experience given how badly I needed to go by then.) I made it home with difficulty, but by the time I stowed my bike, did my chores, and sat down at my computer, I was dying to pee. My bladder was *full*, not in the sense that it was holding urine, but in the sense that it was more or less getting close to its maximum capacity. I’d stripped off my pants to give my abdomen room to expand, pestered my friend, and got relentlessly teased for a couple hours until it was getting close to bedtime. I padded up, did a little squirmy showing off for him by sharing some photos from my cameraphone, and tucked into bed. I couldn’t sleep. My bladder throbbed with fullness and I couldn’t take my usual sleeping position on my belly at all. I squirmed, held myself, crossed my legs, tucked my bits (when I could, anyway, arousal making this difficult for the most part,) but nothing helped at all with the burning, dire fullness in my tank. I can’t remember if I finally started to doze off or if I was awake the whole time, but I do remember vividly that finally, my body gave in, and in the still darkness, the hissing sound was so loud I was worried someone else in the house would hear. My pullup soaked, swelled, bulged, and eventually leaked helplessly as I easily overwhelmed it. I ended up with more on my bed than in the pad, which was to be expected. I saved some photos for my partner, then rolled over. I finally got to sleep almost immediately from the relief and ease, and the next morning I cleaned up, did laundry, showered, and touched base with my partner, who was elated to say the least. I shared some photos of the damage I did with a lot of shame and a little pride. Mostly, though, I was thankful for the weekend; I had the time I needed to clean up and no obligations looming to make my enjoyment of the moment rushed. My partner and I agreed that the pull-ups definitely weren't going to cut it for a bladder of my capacity, but that we'd figure it out another time. – I had made it halfway through the summer with only minor difficulty and one (plus one planned) accident. I was amazed at how well I was doing, and building confidence enough to be a little more daring. This, unfortunately, set the stage for my meeting with hubris on several occasions. I’d begun to notice more often that as I started hitting the “really gotta go” point, I was also starting to have to make second and third choices about where to get rid of my pent up pee. I could stop in this store on the way home… no, wait, I went there already. There’s a nice shady spot in the park I could squat in… I went there a couple weeks ago. It was exciting, and a few intense times during the week, I realized I didn’t have a convenient option and would have to push myself pretty deep into potty dancing territory to make it to the next spot. One ride from school I felt like I was a couple minutes from hosing down my bicycle seat (and my pants) and stopped in a shopping center, determined to find a spot to go, and realized with horror that I’d used every bathroom in the shops there. I rode the rest of the way with one hand on the handlebars, and one hand casually resting in my lap - or as casually as one can while pedaling - and tightly gripping my bits to make it to the next one. My partner deeply enjoyed my increasing frequency of desperation and continued to encourage me to be more daring, which eventually resulted in my first time genuinely having an accident in public. On my way home in the evening, I’d texted my partner to ask for an emergency break at a gas station I’d used the toilet in before, but he’d denied me encouraging me to be a “good boy” and telling me “you’ll be fine, you can make it home.” I couldn’t. I’d texted him because I’d started to dampen my underwear in tiny spurts. My bladder was bursting. There just wasn’t any room left for more pee. Pedaling my bike was loosening up my control, and I needed that control because I was achingly full - at the top of my mind was an entire extra liter of water I’d drank over the course of the day to push the envelope just a little more than I usually did, which had unfortunately resulted in a lot of urine building up in my tummy. I made it maybe another block and a half, unsure whether to pedal frantically or risk taking it slow, before finally, I spurted, stopped, spurted, and couldn’t quite stop, before finally just giving in. I coasted to a slow pace, barely managing to focus on pedaling. It was sunset, and I was wearing a dark blue pair of jeans. My thighs, butt, and crotch were all immediately hot and soaking wet, and I can remember with crystal clarity how I could faintly hear my pee tinkling onto the concrete as I went; I looked back and realized I was leaving a rather visible trail. I had a few blocks to go, and I sped up as clarity came back to me; I never rode so fast in my life. The wetness of my bottoms quickly cooled uncomfortably in the wind, and when I got home, I elected to park my bike in the side yard and go through the back door. I made my way to my room as stealthily as I could, avoiding my parents and finally shutting the door, stripping, and surveying the damage. My underwear was a lost cause and my jeans, even dark in color, were soaked midnight blue in the crotch and rear with two trails going down the legs, if I recall correctly the left was the more prominent one. I showed my partner, was praised, and slunk off to shower. This understandably took my confidence down several pegs. I knew I’d end up badly squirming several times, and even to the leaking point, but the reality of peeing my pants being very possible hadn’t sunk in until now. From this point forward, I kept a change of pants, undies, and a goodnite hidden in my backpack… just to be safe. I’d need it more than once in the coming weeks. It was beginning to feel like I was spending more time holding in my pee than being empty. Lack of ability to go at will for extended periods was starting to influence everything I did. Every time I’d drink, I was planning on where that drink would end up. Everywhere I went, I was casting inappropriate glances to think about where I could slink away to get some relief. And more and more distressingly, I was running out of bathrooms. I’d finally caved and used the toilet at home when I’d barely managed to walk in without spilling some days prior - I’d tried to hold it in at least until my partner got back, but after a half hour I was starting to leak and with my parents more busy around the house than usual, I simply couldn’t find a spot - at least not one I’d already used - that I thought would be safe long enough to drain the lake I was storing inside me. This brought with it a new sense of dread - my one safe spot was used up and I’d already done plenty of marking around (and outside) the house. A couple times out and about, being more daring in my choice of public spots meant I’d have to abort watering a tree, a fence, or a bush and put myself away as quickly as I could when I heard voices or footsteps approaching, much to the dire disagreements of my bladder (and the occasional false couple stops leaving me a little less dry than I was previously.) A couple times I was nearly caught, and I suspected once someone knew what I was up to, but in so far as accidentally flashing someone or exposing them to me piddling like a rather over-realistic garden fountain I'd managed to stay undetected. I was deeply enjoying this change of events, however, and so was not only my partner but the entire watersports channel on FurNet. I’d gathered a small following of my adventures and people were cheering me on, which was keeping me deeply committed to making the challenge to the last day despite knowing that, at any point, I could cheat and nobody would be the wiser. It was a combination of coming this far, having people enjoying my antics and photos of near misses and accidents, and the unbridled horniness of young adulthood that kept me honest… and full of pee. A few particular days spring to mind as highlights. On one occasion, I was facing the ride home in the evening knowing that I just plain wasn’t going to make it. It was getting late in the summer break and I’d used up just about every spot I could think of by now without going too far out of the way and raising eyebrows by being home late - normally I’d either rein in my drinking or use a spot near my grandmother’s but those were growing more sparse by the day and that particular afternoon had been hot. I texted my partner, and he’d suggested that if I knew I was doomed, I might as well pad up under my clothes… technically I hadn’t peed in several spots smack dab in the middle of the sidewalks, and that’s what I believe saved me. About four or so times on the ride home, I could feel my swollen bladder contracting, and I knew if I tried to fight it I’d pop like a balloon and wind up soaked far beyond what the little pull-up could manage. Instead I leaned into it, surging a good amount into it and bottling up the rest when I could feel my control safely returning. It was enough to get me home, in the door, and into the backyard where I finally burst sitting on the lawn with at least the privacy of the fence to keep me hidden. If my folks had been looking out any of the yard-facing windows, I'd have been busted, but I was too full to care. I got up out of the puddle, brushed myself off, and made my way back to the house, still dripping. I slinked inside, cleaned up, showered, and changed, and reported the accident to the channel, who teased me plenty until bedtime. My partner had pointed out I’d watered the lawn before, but I hadn’t done it in a pull-up, so we both agreed that this wasn’t a violation of the rules. As my hopes to safely empty my bladder dried up, there’d be a lot of this bending the rules going on, but I was genuinely still trying my best to keep up the challenge. On another occasion, for some reason, I was full to the brim, but the desperation didn’t really hit. I have no idea what caused this, but it was pretty hot. Normally I’m like any other person except perhaps with an outlandish capacity - when my jug’s full, it’s maddeningly tingly and achy, and drives me to squirm, dance, cross my legs, hold myself, and generally stay mobile until I pee. But on one late summer day in particular, I was beyond full, but not feeling urgent. It was a Saturday and I was home alone, and by the afternoon I’d had plenty of soda to drink playing video games when I started to notice that leaning forward to see my screen better gave me the weak feeling at the base of my bits that told me I’d leak if I kept it up… but my bladder was comfortable. I could feel the pressure and hefty, weighty fullness; and when I took off my pants, my lower belly was bulging, but it wasn’t tingly and irritating like it usually was… I was full to capacity, but not desperate. I checked in with the channel, who pushed me to drink some more and show off how long i could hold it in, and surprisingly, I made it until early evening, my poor water balloon swelling to an impressive size before my continence finally started to waver and I left a wet spot on my undies. Since I was home alone, I slunk into the ensuite in the master bathroom and used the shower to finally empty the tank, and it took over two minutes (roughly) at a fair stream to finally empty myself out. In hindsight it was incredibly hot, but I was nervous for the rest of the day that I’d broken something until I woke up bursting to pee as usual, which was its own form of relief. For the last two weeks of summer, I got a reprieve of sorts. Summer school was over, and I had full days of freedom at home. On the upside, that meant my days would be easier to plan, the house was empty during the week, and I had a whole new slew of public bathrooms I could bike to in that part of the city if I really needed it. On the downside, my home was just about used up in terms of places to drain my tank - both yards, just about every bit of plumbing, and a couple shameful sneaky spots (like a couple potted plants) were all crossed off the list, and although during the day I could probably get somewhere new in time, at night, I was cross-legged and hopeless. More than once I’d end up at the leaking point long before bed but long after dark, and beg my partner for ideas (who, to my frantic frustration, would take his sweet time and often gate an idea for relief behind a few squirmy photos for his enjoyment.) We were down to technicalities, like cups, bottles, and eventually more inventive solutions like a plastic bag full of napkins. When we weren’t coming up with new and exciting places (and “places”) for me to finally burst into at home, I was out and about on my bike. It was fun to explore my hometown with a quite full bladder and with the express intent to find a new place to pee; downtown in particular I found quite a few forgotten nooks and crannies to mark some territory when toilets started getting rarer and rarer. Finally, the last day of summer break was upon me. I’d gathered up a group of people from the IRC into a Skype call with a webcam I’d splurged on - ritzy stuff for someone with no job in 2007! I had a bunch lined up to drink and was nursing it all down, with the call starting in the afternoon as people filed in... and my drinks filed into my bladder. I was getting pretty antsy by sundown and my partner joined, but I was also getting all sorts of comments about how fun this had been, how nice I looked, how hot it was to watch me fighting nature’s call live, and so on. I was honestly a touch overwhelmed, but there was no going back now. It was the first time I’d ever shown off on video and I was really nervous, but the four or five people were very, very kind and encouraging to me and it was more exhilarating than anything. We passed the idle time as my balloon inflated by getting to know each other - I was the youngest of the call by about 5 years, with the oldest being in their late thirties. I still look back at this point as what enabled me to be more free and social online and built me up to what I am as a netizen today. Eventually, though, as all boys who drink a lot do, I had to pee. Badly. The call had gone from just a casual chat with video, to me shifting around more frequently and adjusting myself between my legs, to crossing my legs and bouncing, and eventually having to stand up, ditch my pants, and hold myself between my legs by sundown. During all of this, I fielded a few shy requests for a few specific poses to show off, them occasionally prodding me to drink more, and a smattering of compliments on my body, my squirming, and eventually the tense groaning I was making and my bladder starting to bulge out my lower abdomen. The idea was floated and decided, around 9 PM, that I’d hold it in until midnight - mostly without my input. I severely doubted I could make it. I’d be afforded no relief until then - despite numerous empty cups and bottles littering my dresser. I’d already done that, so it would be considered going in the same place twice; and I honestly couldn’t think of where I was gonna go at midnight. My partner said he had an idea but wouldn’t reveal his hand despite messaging the others in the group and looping them in - it was going to be a surprise. By 11 PM, I was about to explode. I was abusing my crotch heavily and my bladder was bursting at the seams. I couldn't think of anything but my dire, burning, urgent need to go pee. By now I’d have decided on something, anything to go pee in or on, even if it meant sneaking out after dark to a storm drain (which I’d done one night when I was too full to sleep but hadn’t gotten my partner’s permission for special relief… it was probably the most daring thing I’d done, at about 2AM on a dark residential street.) Everyone encouraging me (and checking to make sure I was dry) kept me going and I’m sure the adrenaline helped. Agonizing minutes ticked by and near midnight I started to leak, much to the thrill of everyone in the call. I clearly remember my partner saying something along the lines of “You’re being a very good boy,” and it gave me an incredible boner visible enough that it got some comments and a very red face from me. I was whimpering, holding myself shut to stop the leaks, standing in place with my legs knotted up, and shaking from how much I just wanted to finally pull the plug and go already. It was probably the praise and body reacting to it that got me over the finish line, because as soon as the clock ticked over, I didn’t need to hear what my partner’s idea was, I was already going. Everyone in the call got a nice, clear view of me doing my best fountain impression all over my bedroom floor through my underwear. This, as it turned out, was my partner’s idea, but it mattered not, I was lost to the wind as everyone chimed in to praise me (and shout to get a towel, but it was too late for that by now.) The sound of pee pattering heavily around me was crystal clear, and I was sure the whole house could hear it at the time, though nobody came to check. I didn't care anyway, I lost track of time, and the relief was pure, white-hot euphoria. I made noises that I'm still a little ashamed of to this day, but I’d done it. With very few limited exceptions, I’d managed to spend the whole summer break without peeing in the same spot twice. I thanked everyone for their participation, they continued to heap on some horny praise, and with a little gentle, good-natured prying, I showed myself off a bit more, from some rather bold angles, before cleaning up and putting down some towels and finally crawling into bed and sleeping like a log. To this day, it’s one of the hottest and longest omorashi-based encounters I’ve ever had. I've been on the hunt for someone that can make my body sing in desperation but make me feel gently loved and encouraged ever since. I’m not sure where everyone is these days. We all grew apart as people moved off IRC. I went on to IM programs, then Skype, then Steam, and finally to Discord. I’m no longer in touch with anyone from those days, but I still remember it fondly beyond belief, and I struggle to believe it was real. I used to have some logs from the channel and queries to remember it by, and there’s a recording of the Skype webcam somewhere floating around, but I don’t have them anymore, I lost them in a hard drive crash in 2013. It’s an encounter that lives solely, for me, in my memory, and though I’ve told the story in brief to a few people, and several others know it happened without any detail, this is the first time I’ve finally chronicled what I can remember of it both so I can keep it from fading it and a new group of people can share in my memory. Life’s too busy to ever try something on such a rigid commitment for such a long time like this again, but I’m thankful that it happened more than anyone will ever know. On the off chance one of those folks from back then browses this site - get in touch! I miss you and I’d like to catch up. But even if all I ever manage to do is place this out on the internet so others can enjoy it, then that’s good enough for me. I hope you enjoyed my retelling of this distant memory from another era. It’s a little (very) long winded, but it lives on in a special place in my mind. Feel free to comment and ask whatever you like, about my experience, about me, anything! I’m trying to get myself a little more “out there” as a content creator, so getting to know folks would be lovely. Thanks for reading! 😄 - Sonador
  13. I'm around! I just go through dry periods of motivation and struggle a bit with self-worth, but every once in a while I get the motor running again and put something out.
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