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Posts posted by Dimwitrolo
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Do you like spooky stories?
I do. But in the same way I like spicy food, I know that there are risks.
Sometimes I get so involved in reading horror stories I manage to actually spook myself - you know the feeling? When you're worried that, at any moment, something scary's gonna happen?
Well - I managed to induce that in myself tonight. I'd been up until...about 3am I think? Just reading horror stories online. A couple creepy-pastas, some urban legends, watched some horror videos - in fact I've really dived into that whole analogue horror thing. You know the type, with VCRs and old TV recordings.
The video that seemed to spook me most was Local58's video, Weather Service.
It's really well done - and if you like horror, I fully recommend it - the whole channel really.I'd watched it right before noticing that it was already 3am on a sunday night - right before a 9am lecture the next day.
Lying here now in bed, I'm sort of realising that horror's not the best idea - especially on a rainy night. Alone. In a relatively new flat.
That line - DO NOT LOOK AT THE MOON.
That gave me chills the second I saw it. I knew then that I might have overdone it on the horror for the night. And now...I need the loo.Before getting into bed I'd closed the curtains, and I'm a little embarassed to say I made a point of not looking at the moon again. I knew it was a full moon too, as if it needed to be any spookier. Though by this time I'm sure you wouldn't be able to see it, it's raining gently outside.
Now, lying in bed and hoping I can get some amount of sleep before class and facing away from the window (Yes I know, I'm a wuss, thank you), I'm realising that I shouldn't have had so much tea.
Don't tell me tea will keep me awake by the way - it doesn't. I don't know why, but it never has. Hell, too much of it makes me tired.It might be warm in bed, but I don't feel too comfortable. Not just my increasingly noticeable bladder, but mentally too. Noises are making me jump - the wind, my flatmate in the kitchen, people in the street, or that cursed railway just outside. I'd - and don't tell anyone this - I'd made a literal yelping sound when a freight train had gone past barely minutes ago, and I'd pulled the covers up just a little closer to my nose.
Perhaps I should have left the light on - it's a lot scarier in the dark. There's...something ghostly by my door. Am I seeing things or...oh no, that's just my coat. I don't usually leave that there.
But then I also don't usually get this spooked either.
My bladder's become an issue though...It's full.
Not just a bit full, but I'm lying in bed, one hand holding the blanket to my face, the other one wedged between my legs, squashed between the fabric of my PJ shorts. I'm twisting my hips under the covers, trying to make myself more comfortable, trying to deny how bad it is. I can make it to the morning, I'm sure - I just need to fall asleep. I've never wet the bed before, and I'm not going to start now. I hope.Or I should say - I've never wet the bed in my sleep. No I will not be going into detail.
But...lying here right now? I know I won't be able to get to sleep. I have to use the toilet, and it's getting worse. Normally lying down makes it a bit easier. And besides, I've got to bed with a fairly full bladder a number of times. The bathroom's only outside my door anyway, and there's a spare one upstairs. One time, before I'd moved to the flat for university - back home in other words - I'd managed to make it through the whole night after going to sleep with a decently full bladder. I'd woke up the next morning - I think because of how bad I had to pee, because it was earlier than I usually wake up - then tried making it to the toilet. After, you know, spending a good ten minutes on twitter. I did have to get out of bed because of how bad it was...but then my brother had been in the shower, we didn't have a second bathroom...I panicked, went back into my room.
And then by the time he'd got out, I didn't need to use the toilet any more. Instead I needed to use the washing machine and some carpet cleaner.I...really should get up and pee. I can feel the solid lump of bladder with my wrist - I'm having to be careful how I hold myself. My hand is pushed into my body with my arm at an awkward angle cause if I bash it against my belly - Ow! Yeah, like that - I know it's just gonna get worse.
And...it's getting worse. Every minute, it gets worse. The pressure inside, like a whole ocean being held back by a shaky dam. The bathroom's only out side, like I say, but...
I can't get out of bed! I can't - I'm...spooked. Too scared. Don't laugh!
Every noise is putting me on edge, my eyes are darting around, trying to find the source each time. After the initial jump, I can usually tell what it was - maybe the drier in the kitchen (I don't know who does laundry at 3am. Strike that. I have done and will probably do so again), or the outside world, or...that one's another train. You should hear it with the window open...I did try getting out of bed. I'd slid one leg out from the covers...only to retract it when I heard some other noise. And my leg got cold. Also...because I was too scared to put it on the floor. What if the boogyman grabbed it!?
Yeah - I know there won't really be one...but my mind keeps going 'but what if there is? Or if there's someone in the hallway? Or - worst of all - what if there are spiders!'Just the thought makes me screw my eyes up and snuggle down deeper into the covers...but once I get still again all I can feel is my bladder. Well, that and scared. But...mostly my bladder now, I have to be honest.
There's no way I'll be getting to sleep moving around like this - my legs are writhing under the covers in a pedalling like I'm on some desperate unicycle. I can't bring my legs up too high though - the pressure just gets worse. I'm starting to hurt my hand from the pressure exerted by each thigh, pushing my fingers inward. I tried putting my hand in a fist, but it doesn't hold as well - you know? No, right now I need all my fingers on the front line...cause I think I'm gonna lose this battle.
It's really starting to get to be too much though...I can feel sweat beads forming on my head, and I can hardly breath normally and...oh no. I just felt...you know those shivers you get? Like when you really have to go? Those shivers are usually my wake up call if I'm playing a game, or reading something - they mean I have mere minutes to get up and to a toilet. They mean that using the toilet will feel great - but they mean I have...minutes maybe.
I let out an unintentional moan. It's too hard to hold it, I have to get up and go!
Again, my leg slides from under the covers and into the cold night air. The sound of rain against the window glass is becoming increasingly loud...just like...in the movies. Oh god. I can't do it - I can't get out of bed! It's always on rainy nights that something really scary happens! My mind flashes back to the videos I'd watched earlier that day. The image of Nature's Mockery - a sort of monster from the youtube channel Gemini - flashed through my mind. The long tendrils...the unnatural movements...the noises.
What if there was one outside?My leg slides back under the pillows, and it's like my bladder knew there and then that I wasn't getting up. A second shiver - something I don't often feel - something I'd felt when my brother was in the shower. It really was now or never. I can feel my bladder even now - it's like the contents are getting ready to move. I can feel it pulsing slightly...I can feel it sticking out in my belly. I know if I looked down I'd even be able to see it - but I daren't move the covers too much, in case I make myself too visible...I really need to stop watching horror before bed!
It's getting too much now. The sweat is running off my forehead in beads and onto my pillow. I'm whimpering audibly, and I can hardly move my legs any more than rhythmically tensing my thighs and hoping...Oh no.
The first...leak. It seeps out of me and I can feel it immediately on my fingers. The fabric of my shorts changes texture and warms up suddenly. A bead of...I don't want to admit it - A bead of urine runs down my cheek and onto the matress. I moan again, clenching the blanket with my free hand. I have to get up now, I have to get out of bed now. But...I can't.
I gaze longingly at the door - worried that it could open at any second. I - OH GOD WHAT WAS THAT NOISE
It...It's my flatmate going back into their room. My body ran cold the second I heard his door opening - there's no way I can get out of bed!But...If I don't...
Another bead has escaped me, following the same path as the first. Again I feel it push through between my middle and index finger, coating them with a short-lived warmth that then trails onto my matress. Now I can feel the texture of the matress beneath my backside. It's infinitely harder to hold now - my body's already begun to weaken, the dam holding the river back is beginning to crack...and I can't stop breathing so loudly! Each breath comes with it's own little moan - even biting into the blanket isn't helping now. I screw my eyes up tighter than ever and prepare for the inevitable...But I won't be letting it go. No, I'll hold to the last moment. My last stand against -T-that!
I hear a high-pitched squeak come out my mouth as my bladder just...tenses! It's doing it's own thing now! I-I-I didn't tell it to do that!
It's - It's doing it again! Oh no, oh no no no...
Hng!Something warm spurts out of me. The rain outside begins to die down a little now, but the rain inside...it's just beginning. It's just one...spurt - but it feels like so much more. My shorts immediately heat up and begin to cling to my skin between my legs. The tiny wet patch of matress feels suddenly warmer and larger...and I felt the whole spurt just go through my fingers like I was washing my hands.
And then the rain stops.
It falls silent, aside from my shallow and rapid breathing, accompanied by the occasional moan. Once again I can feel my bladder getting ready to pulse, and then -
No! I - Stop it!
It's not stopping! No no NO NO NO NONONO!
Pee begins erupting out of me - erratically surging and dropping in pressure as I fight back with every inch of strength I can muster up. Without the rain I can hear the hiss, hear the trickle! I can feel the jet as it surges into my palm through the fabric of my shorts. Each breath I draw in sees the stream surge in strength, as if the air entering my lungs is pushing directly onto my bladder! I have to stop it! I have to hold it! I push my fingers against myself and strain my muscles to hold back!And...it works! The stream stops. The air falls silent again. I can feel tears lining the bottom of my eyes...and a different warm fluid coating my hand. I draw one leg up and hear my shorts squish. For a brief moment...it's fine.
I'm wide awake now, eyes staring dead ahead at my door. If I get up now it won't be too bad, right? A little wet spot on my shorts, a little wet spot on the bed...and my flatmate seems to have gone quiet. The drier's still rumbling in the kitchen down the hallway, mind you. I...I think that's making it so much more unsettling.
Dorcelessness? Why has that word come into my - oh. It was another video - Thalasin - striking my memory at the worst time possible...the sunken face, the fact the music had stopped in the video once the image had come up...I can't shake the feeling I'll walk into...that...outside my room. What if I opened the door and he was just stood there!? Or worse - the Loric face? That slit of a mouth... I couldn't get up now. I was too shook. At least I was safe and warm in bed...but my bladder tinged again and I knew it was about to get a whole lot warmer.
What else could I do now? I knew I couldn't make it through the night (evidenced by my warm, warm fingers), but at the same time, I couldn't even bring myself to get out of bed. I have to find another solution - and quickly, before my bladder realises I'm ignoring it's warnings. I dart my eyes around the room, looking for something - anything - to use as...an emergency receptical....a toilet.
Maybe I should have left a gap in the curtains - just enough to let in the moonlight in - No way! That video told me not to even look at it! Sure, I know it's fiction but right now I'm too scared to not consider the possibility that it's real! No - I strain my eyes harder and look for something.
My teacup? Nah, too small - and I drink out of that.
My teapot? Nah, I drink out of that too.
There's...a red bull can on the floor. One of the large ones too - I've found my saviour! Ack!No! Not now! My bladder's pulsing again - I've identified a 'toilet' - just hold a second or two more!
...It's like it heard me. It stops pulsing. I open my eyes again and lock them on the can. It's just across my room, on the floor beneath my chair - don't judge, your room's probably a mess too. I just need to get up and get it.Just...gotta do that.
Just get out of bed.
Why...why am I not doing that?The sound of wind outside breaks the relative silence and makes me freeze up entirely - ceasing the jiggling that my whole body appears to be engaged in. The wet patch on the matress is starting to cool now too, though my clenched thighs and hand are keeping my shorts warm. My bladder seems to pick up on my sudden fear and refusal to move...and I can feel it getting ready to squeeze again.
I...I know what's coming. I look over to the can longingly once more, then gently shut my eyes and take a deep breath. I'm going down fighting.
The first pulse. I moan a little as my muscles begin to move of their own accord. I manage to hold it back, but I can already feel the second on the way. My eyes begin to clench tighter and I push my fingers more firmly against myself. The second pulse is coming...coming...It's here! Another moan breaks through the silence, and this time my fingers warm up once again. I can feel my inner muscles making the familiar movements that would normally occur on a plastic seat over a porcelain bowl and with intent...but right now there's no intent - only protest. And yet the muscles are still trying.
The second pulse ends and I whimper again, biting onto my blanket. The third's already on it's way...I can feel it comING!
I hear myself whimper - loudly this time! But more importantly - I feel a hot surge of liquid erupt through my fingers! T-this pulse isn't dying down either, in fact it's - !!!!
It's getting worse!
A sharp hissing breaks the silence - now continuously - as my bladder becomes it's own master and begins to empty itself with fury! It feels like a tap on full blast into my open palm, pushing pee through my fingers, through my shorts, down my thighs and...into my matress. A sort of 'eeeeeeeep' sound comes out my face as I try fruitlessly to stop the actual jet of warmth currently pushing into my palm...But it's no use now.I try to open my eyes, just in time for my back to take a humungous shiver of relief as I lose all control over my bladder. Pee is now just pouring out of me and into my bed. I can feel it's warmth coursing over my buttocks and soaking into the matress below with a very audible trickling sound. My whimpers begin to slow and become more like sighs as I let my bladder do it's thing, letting my legs and hand go limp as fresh urine washes over them. With my nose under the blanket, I can already smell the steam dispersing. It's not too strong - I'm well hydrated. Part of the problem, I suppose.
I let my hand fall away from my groin and into the puddle now blossoming around my hips. The side of my shorts has soaked up pee like it was a sponge, and now I can feel it spreading upwards and soaking into my pumpkin pattern tee-shirt. Pee is cascading down my legs still, carving a consistent path behind me and over my backside - or more accurately, half of my backside. The contrast is...noticeable, to say the least. The puddle is growing fast around me, I can feel it's surface rising and spreading - first my hips were immersed, then slowly upwards and downwards. Going upwards I feel it soaking my back, reaching up higher and higher until I feel the warmth around my ribcage and elbow. The hand once holding it all back was slowly being swallowed whole as the puddle begins rising above my fingers, submerging the tips entirely. Going downward is of course my thigh, gradually soaking it further down until my knee touches the wet, warm surface. Even before it did though, I could feel the steam underneath the blanket swirling around - warming not just my sides, but my belly, my other leg, and soon my whole body below the neck.
The rain picks up again and the trickling becomes less noticeable...I draw my hand out of the puddle and it joins the other, holding my blanket to my face. It - unsurprisingly - smells like pee. Which is still pouring out of my body and showing no signs of slowing down. Having a large bladder - sometimes it's a pain. Rarely, but sometimes. Right now, for example, I know that it's going to - wait, no it's already there. I can feel my hair pull ever so slightly as it begins to soak in...pee. My ginger curls take to the puddle like they were trying to drink it. I can feel beneath my shoulder - as the puddle begins to reach even that far - My usually wavy hair getting warm and losing their usual volume.
I've stopped moaning by now - the shock and relief have worn off a little. The initial surge of relief had hit me like a brick on the head. The warm shiver up my back had left a fuzzy, warm feeling throughout my body. That feeling was being replaced now by a more literal warmth - though only on one side. Even having regained my senses though, I'm not going to make any effort to stop. Afterall, the matress is already...you know. Soaked. Like the person in it. The wind outside picks up again...and I can't help but feeling, even with pee still coursing out of my body, that I made the right choice. The rock that was once my bladder is soft once again, but by no means is it near empty.
I open my eyes and look forward, deliberately choosing now to continue emptying my bladder. The soft trickle beneath the blankets is...surprisingly relaxing, and I'm starting to feel sleepy. Although that could be where I'm exhausted from holding in the ocean that is now soaking up into my pillow. I have to move my head up a little to keep it off my chin. The rain outside is getting stronger and stronger...and...I don't know how to explain this - it's really, really cosy. Not just the rain...the...well all of it.
The relief that swamped over me, the hot puddle that's still lapping against my skin and jammies as it continues to grow in all directions. The rain outside - already a cosy thing to me usually - is just making me...so.......happy?
Happy. It's....sooooooooooo nice. Wow. Warm.It's still going, a-hah...Weaker now, a little - what was that sound?
Oh no...There's...not enough bed. For my puddle. It's, uh, pouring over the edge...onto the carpet. I can hear it pitter-pattering...now streaming a little. I just hope I left my shoes away from the end of the bed. I stretch out one leg - the one already in the puddle - to try and feel how far downward the puddle's gone. No use - my foot's already wet - I'm probably just making footprints on the bottom.It's...a bit gross. To think that it's pee that I'm lying in, especially because...I'm, uh...so comfy. I shouldn't feel this relaxed, right? I feel like I've had a back rub - I feel relaxed and at ease, like all the stress is melting away. Or, I suppose pouring out. A clap of thunder rips into the night silence...and I hardly even react. I simply...feel great.
All the fear in my body must have escaped with the pee - because I feel at ease now. My bladder's begining to slow down now - the stream had been going directly against the fabric of my shorts (except for a break-away stream I could feel cascading against the bottom of my, er, bottom). Now it was tickling me as it poured directly onto my inner-thigh...and now it's stopped, merely trickling out of me. I can feel a lazy grin carving it's way across my face. I can't tell if my face is getting warm because I'm blushing or if there's just steam wafting over it. I...I don't really care, to be honest.
The little trickle has come to an end, and now the puddle is beginning to seep into the matress, lowering the water-level. I can immediately feel the skin get colder as the pee drains away and into the matress beneath me. I let out a very, very contented sigh. I'm almost disapointed now that it's over. I relax my whole body and sink into the matress - it's fabric coming to greet my wet skin like a kiss.
Heeh, a ha. Man. I pull my blanket against my breast - not my chin like before. The fear's gone and only comfort remains. Just...don't think about it being...you know, pee. Bodily waste. Gross, yeah - don't think about that. Just enjoy the warmth.
Haaah...
I let my still wet hand back under the blanket and it finds it's way between my legs again. I bite my lip gently and...tell my bladder to push. The warmth rushes back to greet my fingers once more for a few seconds, like a kiss goodbye from that comfy, comfy experience. My shorts wash over warm once again and I giggle. It's sooooooo comfy in this bed now...I just want to...push my fingers against my shorts. And rub...just a little. Mmm, yeah - that's....nice....
* * *
I know where you think that's going. Sorry to disapoint - but I was just too comfy to carry that out. Before I'd built up any effort I found myself passed out. When I woke up my hand was inside my shorts, still damp but far colder than I remembered. What had been so cosy the night before had become quite chilly now, save where my body had been lying still and keeping the heat. The morning light that was being cast through my thin curtains was glistening against my whole body when I threw off the blanket - which hadn't escaped un-wetted either.
Luckily the fear that had kept me in bed had gone now. In fact I felt a bit silly. I sat myself up, cross legged, and admired the sheer size of the wet patch I'd...semi deliberately left on my bed. It was cast almost top to bottom - over the bottom, never quite reaching beyond my pillow. My still wet hair clung to my neck and back. My shorts were clinging to my skin - my shirt too clung to one half of me like a hug that goes on too long. The smell...wasn't so bad as I expected it to be. Almost pleasant in it's mildness - yeah it's weird, shut up.
At least I didn't need to pee when I woke up like most mornings.
No, I was going to choose to do that this time.I don't know why I chose to go in the bed again...
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Deadlines are the worst - I have this horrible habit of leaving my work to the last minute, and then having to rush through the lot.
Hopefully though - I learned my lesson this time. In fact I'm sitting in a cold puddle of lessons today - let me tell you a bit about it.
So - my name's Jamie, I'm 22, a girl, about five-foot three, probably a bit above average weight, brown hair to my shoulders - nothing too exciting. And I had a deadline due...Exactly 23 minutes ago.
Despite the title above, I didn't miss that deadline. No - the deadline I missed was self imposed.I thought this assignment was due next month, so I hadn't really been paying attention to it until this afternoon. It was just chance that I noticed it to be honest - I was trying to check the deadline for another assignment - which is due on Friday, if you were curious.
But you know how it is, right - you find that deadline that's due way earlier than expected, you get that hit of sheer absolute panic, and then you blaze through a paper. Well this afternoon I had that hit of panic (to the point I actually made a noise when I saw the date on the assignment) and decided I had to get it done.
And what better fuel for writing an essay than like...eight cups of coffee. Yeah it's not good for me, but neither is failing university. And I'm paying to be at uni, I'm not gonna fail. Even if that does mean I feel like I'm not gonna be sleeping for the rest of this week.
Initially it wasn't anything out the ordinary - I sat down, got my laptop set up...spent about 20 minutes watching some YouTube video about Aldi (No, I don't know what made me think it was a good use of my time), and then set about working.
If anyone else here does history, then you'll know how bad the essays can get - Four-thousand words isn't even that bad compared to other essays I've had - but generally I have more than half a day to write them. Unless I do this.
The first hour was the slowest, as usual. Trying to think of the question, and then trying to come up with a rough plan and find some sources that support my argument. Eventually I decided my essay was going to be about the failures of the League of Nations.
So as you can imagine, I'm panicking, I'm putting down coffee like there's no tomorrow, and by the third paragraph I'm getting up to use the toilet.
At this point I should probably have eased up on the coffee, but hindsight is 20/20. Instead I doubled down, hoping to get a caffeine induced surge of energy. Or a heart attack - that'd probably be reason enough to get an extension.
It's hard to write about this, because...well most of it was just me drinking, writing shit down, and using the toilet - rinse and repeat.
Until about 10pm.
So - Like I said, deadline is today, which means technically the deadline is midnight. Which is two hours away from 10pm.
P A N I C M O D E
I saw the clock and my heart sort of lept - I poured my...sixth? Yeah, sixth coffee out the press. I hadn't bothered to reboil the kettle since the last one, so there was no wait between pouring and drinking half the cup. I didn't think much of it of course - I'd just got back from the toilet too, I wouldn't be needing to head back for at least an hour, right?
Yeah, about that...
It didn't take a whole half-hour for me to feel that coffee on the last stretch of it's journey through me, but I was a solid 700 words away from the word count. And even once I'd hit it, I had to proof read the essay, maybe cut down some words if I went over, make sure I'd got everything down that I wanted to, made sure my citations were correctly typed out...usual excitement.
Important thing is, those things take time - which I had about an hour and thirty-five minutes of. Using the toilet would take...maybe 3 minutes per incident.
And I didn't have 3 minutes to spare every half hour.
I made the decision to hold it and kept on writing.
It wasn't too bad at first. I sat myself cross legged on my computer chair, typing away and bouncing my leg up and down. I'd put on some music to distract me from the mounting pressure down below, and soon I was bouncing my knee in rhythm to the music. The kettle beside me was still warm and mostly full, and the coffee press was looking very tempting.
I'm not sure what was going through my head at the time, but I found myself making another coffee. I think I might have been trying to distract myself from my increasingly full bladder. Spooning the coffee from bag to press was easy enough, a little shaky but I didn't spill any this time. I'm not sure if the shaking was caused by my bladder or the fact I had more caffeine in me than all of Starbucks.
Pouring the water out the kettle though - that wasn't so easy.
The water splashed out the spout and into the press, and the sound alone was like a slap to the face. Water - pouring and filling a container. The pressure from my bladder surged and I nearly dropped the kettle.
I thrust a hand between my legs and managed to hold on, spilling a little water on the table in the process. I suppose I should have seen that as a bad omen - but the deadline was so close now, and I was well behind on my work.
With the press filled I took to writing for another few minutes while the coffee brewed. By now my foot was bouncing non stop, my heel bashing against one of the wheels of the chair every time it came down.
Oh, uh, it dawns on me I should probably tell you a bit more about my appearance...you know, given the nature of this website. That description from before probably isn't the best...
Okay so - err, god I hate describing myself...
Uh...Have you seen that drawing of the guys from Red Letter Media, but they're anime girls? Google it if you haven't - I look exactly like Jay from that drawing, except my eyes are green, and I've got freckles. And smaller breasts.
As for my clothes, this evening I've gone for an ensemble of classy grey trackies (complete with a hole on the left leg from where I poked a hole through them with a pen), and a most excellent shirt depicting the characters from a famous comedy series.
That's it - no shoes, no undies, no socks, no bra. Classic outfit for the student who hasn't left the flat in about four days.So with those grey trackies in mind...
Another omen was to come to me next as I picked up the coffee press and began pouring. The sound caused my body to tense up in a way I'd not experienced before, a cross between a wince and sudden realization. My bladder sort of screamed at me all the while hot coffee was splashing into my cup, threatening to take matters into it's own hands. I managed to un-freeze myself just in time to stop from overfilling my mug. I flinched as I was doing so though, flicking a single drop of coffee onto my knee.
At this point it was like the universe was warning me. My body had frozen up, my bladder had made it's intentions extremely clear, and I'd even got my trackies wet - and as you know, grey trackies go practically black the moment they get damp.
And dampness soaks through the material...I didn't notice at first because of the heat from the coffee, but as I went to take a sip from the mug I could feel the spot on my knee cooling.
My eyes widened - I want to mention this because I didn't expect them to. At this point, a lot of my reactions weren't really in my control any more. For example, my whole body shivered as I put the cup back on the desk and swallowed.
I...well I knew what it meant.
I don't often hold until I can't, but I've done it before once or twice. It's not really something I do on purpose, but we've all been there.
That shiver...it's like a last minute warning. Like DEFCON 1, but for bladders. (WETCON 1?)The shiver went over my body slowly, as if being lifted up slowly from my pelvis and dragged through my ribcage and shoulders, finishing at the back of my neck with an unintentional sound of 'uwwaough' out of my mouth. I glanced at the clock on the bottom right of my screen. Ten fourty-five now. I checked my word count.
...It had gone up by about 20 words from the last time I checked...But how?
I'd been writing for a solid ten minutes! How could I have...Argh! Wasn't the biggest problem I had though - the moment my brain displayed a concern for the lack of work done, my bladder very loudly announced that it's problem took priority.
What to do, what to do?...Really I should have just gone to the toilet.
Instead my I found my hand lifting my cup to my lips, feeling hot coffee pour down my throat, and trying to type with my free hand.
I almost feel like it was just rude to my bladder, really - I knew very well what was going on, and I knew I had to go soon. As in, I didn't have a choice - I was going to pee soon, whether I wanted to or not.
As I put the mug back down, now empty (not unlike the cavity inside my head, where most people would store a brain), I looked down at myself. I almost wasn't expecting the thoughts that I came up with - let me quote them for you, they're great (/s)
I'm almost embarrassed to type this out...
'Would it really be that bad?' I asked myself inside my head. Well - yes, it would be, but by now I think there was so much urine in my body it had probably entered my blood stream and was effecting my decisions.All I could think about now really was my bladder. It felt full - not as in 'gee I should pee soon' - more a feeling of 'I think my body has reached it's physical capacity for liquid'.
I lifted my shirt and looked down - Have you ever seen yourself bulge before?
It's...weird. It was almost like I'd gotten fat, but very specifically just below my belly button.
Something stupid inside me told me to poke it - FUCK was that a bad idea.I didn't like, poke it gently either - I was so shaky and struggling to hold on my hand just kinda bounced off of it, shooting pain through my...self.
I kinda...twisted my face up, bowing my whole head forwards and screwing my eyes shut, hissing air through my teeth and clamping my thighs together. What a dumb move that was - if anything was going to make me hyper aware of the pressure - it was punching myself in the bladder.
I managed to control myself, but I knew I'd come as far as I could now. If I didn't get up immediately, I'd be leaking. I looked over to my door. I hadn't got up immediately, and I had a few seconds to realise my mistake. The pressure inside me - which bare in mind was enough that I couldn't stop bouncing my leg for a good fifteen minutes now - was surging. It almost felt like my bladder was rising up through my body, pushing itself upward into my lungs - which in turn pushed back down as I was breathing.
I felt myself break out into a sweat - either panic or just from the sheer amount of liquid in my body - and my breathing was becoming hoarse and shallow. Each breath I drew in was pushing down on my bladder, and my only respite was to breath out - which let my bladder take up more space, only for another breath to press down on it even harder.
I felt the urine inside me begin to move. It was slow and I could feel my muscles fighting to stay shut as best they could, but even still I knew they were fighting a losing fight now.
I...I don't understand what was going through my head - I knew that I should be getting out the seat, I knew I should be bailing and diving to the bathroom - but do you know what my dumb ass did?
Ignored it.
I figured if I focused on my essay, I could ignore it a little longer.
I must have been a mess to look at - I was breathing loudly through my nose, trying to stop myself taking in too much air at once. I was sweaty and gross, even managed to leave a wet patch on my sleeve from wiping my forehead. My legs were going mental beneath my desk, flipping and twisting in all directions like some odd student-pretzel. When my legs weren't flipping out, my toes were clinging onto the metal frame of the table, before my sweaty soles lost grip and my legs resumed their erratic ballet.
I began typing - immediately hitting about 3 keys every time I bought my finger down and typing out some nonsense. I...growled(?) and held my finger down on the backspace - and that was my first leak.
I didn't feel it come out - which was odd, I'd felt it all moving just moments ago. I think. Maybe the pressure was so intense I couldn't feel any other sensation aside from the rapid cooling of the tiny spurt of liquid that had just left my body and found a new home in my trackies.
At this point I think a mix of physical pain and essay-based stress had made me entirely irrational. I say this because...as typing this up, I've noticed the empty smoothie bottle sitting in my bin.
It's a large bottle with a really wide mouth.
That's annoying. Doesn't matter now, I gotta clean up anyway.Yeah - spoiler warning I guess, but you saw the tags.
I glanced at the clock again - it had gone forward about three minutes since I last checked. The word count hadn't moved however.
I decided I'd reach the nearest hundred words before I could take a toilet break.
My bladder let me type out about three.
My first sensation was my torso going kinda tight and I leant forward toward my screen. I thrust a hand between my legs, clamping my thighs around my hand too. My right hand was now typing out words letter by letter. It was getting hard to read the words I was typing, so I wiped my eyes with my typing hand. Not a great idea to touch something warm and wet when you're this desperate to pee.
Actually I say that, I suppose it's whole point of this website.
Either way - my body felt wetness, and then my ears heard my own throat moan/whimper.
...I never know if I should type out vocalizations. I kinda went 'nuuuraaaah!', but under my breath. As the tears now coating my right hand cooled and my finger resumed typing, I felt myself losing control.
It started off slowly - at first I felt a sudden warmth on my skin beneath my trackies. This warmth seemed to pulsate, coinciding perfectly with my breathing; Every time I drew in a breath, I could feel another tiny surge of heat. I'd managed to dismiss it until I felt something trickling between my buttocks, and something spreading over my left wrist. The one in between my legs.
I didn't look away from the screen though. For some reason I decided to just...carry on working.
By now every breath out was a moan, and every breath in was drawn through teeth...and accompanied by more warmth.I suppose the overwhelming sensation of pressure had begun to die down, because it wasn't long before what I felt changed.
Initially - I'd been leaking, but...it just kinda felt warm. The only other thing I felt was the pressure from inside. I think that pressure had become so much I couldn't feel anything else - and here's my reason why.
I sat leaking for...maybe 3 minutes?
Each leak was tiny still, but it didn't feel like relief, or like the pressure was going down. It was like something was just spilling over my crotch and I really had to pee. Which I suppose is kinda true.So it came as a massive surprise to me when this next thing happened. I'd glanced down at myself - my sleeve was damp, my left hand glistened in the light of my essay, and my groin was...soaked. The trackies, as previously mentioned, had turned practically black in a very particular patch, completely surrounding my fist. I withdrew my hand and watched some pale-yellow drips fall off them. I looked back up at the screen and tried to carry on typing.
The leaking hadn't stopped - in fact it had become fairly consistent. I didn't feel any relief, but I could feel a very gentle stream begin to chart a course down my thigh, slowly trickling downwards and pooling inside my trackies. I suppose I'd let enough out for the feeling of pressure to drop though. Every breath drawn in had caused a little bit more urine to escape. I bit down on my sleeve and braced myself.
I felt myself draw in a rapid, harsh breath of air. At the same time, I felt my bladder contract powerfully, and I felt something hot coursing between my thighs. I heard it hissing as my body furiously began to void my bladder.
But I felt relief this time.It was too much to stop now. I'd been holding so long, my muscles begged for a break, my bladder begged for relief, and my brain begged me to work on the essay.
I don't know if I made the choice to do this, or if it just kinda happened, but as my bladder was squeezing and urine was jetting out of me...I gave up any resistance.
The feedback was immediate.
The fierce hiss quickly slowed to a grateful hiss - less powerful but very much audible. A beautiful warmth shot up my back and culminated around my neck with a sort of pleasant tickle - while another beautiful warmth was coursing down my legs. I knew it'd soak into my chair, knew it'd fuck up my carpet - but right now I just wanted to pee. I really wanted to pee - in fact I was enjoying the fact I was currently peeing so much I sighed and slumped back into my chair, grinning through the tears that streaked down my cheeks. I say I sighed, it was more giggling with glee. My entire body was tingling with the relief of letting go. I relaxed my entire body, letting my arms go limp and hang down to my sides. It took a moment before I could hear splashing - mostly because I was making too many other noises. Urine was pouring from my chair and legs, splattering the carpet below.
I made no effort to try and stop it either. As the pressure had subsided and been replaced by glee, I slowly got my mind back...but I made a very conscious decision to let myself finish wetting my pants. But I still had that essay to do. Once the initial overwhelming glee wore off, I managed to sit myself up in my chair...which made a squishing noise which turned my legs to jelly. I leaned forward a little more, pushing myself into the cushion, and pushing my bladder just a little harder. I hooked my legs under my chair, catching the streams that had been splattering against my feet, and redirecting them to run down the back of my calves.
I wish I could show you the squishing noise the chair was making through text - but there's no way I could do it justice. The wet squelch of the cushioned seat and my sodden trackies as my own piss soaked its way into the very innards of the cushion...I hate how much I enjoyed that bit, cause I think it's ruined my chair. Not that I cared when I was going of course - no, rather I was trying to perfectly position my feet to catch as much urine falling off the chair as possible, letting it soak over my soles, pressing my toes into the carpet for another squish.
Sadly, nothing lasts forever, and despite how I had been feeling barely two minutes ago, that was going to include the fathoms of liquid that were currently spilling onto the carpet.
At least now I had time to recover.. The absolute wave of relief that had knocked me sideways was now subsiding, leaving me just sitting in my chair, casually emptying my bladder as I tried to catch my breath. I felt it would be appropriate for some reason to touch the area, as if it was going to feel anything aside from really warm, damp, and satisfying...and then I squeezed the trackies.
S-still warm urine surged through my fingers as I clenched the fabric, spilling onto the chair. I giggled again - I hadn't fully got my brain back at this point. What I had got however was a pair of very wobbly legs and a warm itching feeling.
I hope you don't need me to spell out what that means for you.
But of course - I still had that essay. And the clock. And two minutes had become three, and my word count still hadn't moved.
Sometimes work has to take priority over pleasure though...but that doesn't mean I couldn't rub my thighs over each other. I didn't do that for long though, I quickly realised I was losing focus on the essay.
Since then...I told myself not to drink another coffee until the first draft was done. With half an hour before midnight (and my trackies becoming icy cold) I'd finished writing - poured myself another coffee, and began proof reading.
At 23:57 I submitted the essay. I had exactly as much time spare as I'd spent wetting myself.
At time of writing it's 00:43. Took me about 20 minutes to type this up. As you ought to remember, I poured myself an extra coffee about an hour ago I finished drinking it about 40 minutes ago.
So it makes sense that my bladder's feeling pretty damn full again.
Chair's already soaked...carpet too. Wouldn't be any harm if I just...
...
...
Oh yeah, that's better.
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- Popular Post
- Popular Post
It had been my goal for weeks.
I knew I was going to do this - I'd done the planning, I'd figured out my route and all the little details.
The excitement - the thrill! - of knowing I was going to do what I was going to do.I shut my front door behind me as I step into the late night air. It's just gone 3am, like I'd planned. It will be quiet out, there won't be anyone. It's just me, my clothes, and my...
Well. You can read the URL. You're on this website too. I won't be coy.Today is the day that I'm going to wet myself...in public.
It's...it's an odd feeling. I wouldn't say good, but it certainly wasn't bad.
My heart is racing, I'm struggling to keep my breath under control, and I'm shivering a little...though that's more the cold than anything else. I haven't really dressed for the cold. I've just sort of put on clothes that I don't mind losing.Let me work my way up.
My feet are currently being scratched top to bottom by an old pair of trainers I've had for...years? Maybe longer. They look older than me. They aren't comfy - but if they were, I wouldn't mind ruining them.
No socks. Why would I wear socks? You know what I'm gonna do in these clothes - I can definitely skip the socks.
Pants - cheap trackies. I bought these when I started at uni. My intention was to become bit of a gym bunny...turns out trackies are really comfy and much better suited to sleeping in. But after their three years of loyal service, they're riddled with holes and thin fabric and just general wear. Tonight's going to be their grand send-off.
Shirt - sports bra. Came with the trackies. Not as comfy as the trackies...but they do show off my belly. Hopefully someone will look. Hey, don't give me that look - you've got a weird fetish too.
Over that is a hoodie. It's so comfy. This is going in the wash after tonight. Not losing my good hoodie....
At this point I'm stalling. I'm stood out my door, it's 3am, it's freezing...and I really need to pee.
That's not accidental either. I've 'borrowed' 3 beers from my flatmate. They're currently sitting inside me, giving me both the urge to pee and the courage to do it...where I'm going to.
Let's...let's start walking....
I...I don't really have much to say. It's...cold...dark. You know, it's 3am. I'm half-dressed, I'm nervous and I really need to pee.
So let me run you through my plan as I walk.For years now, I've enjoyed wetting myself. Took me about a week to accept that. Because it was really fun to keep wetting myself. But also I really enjoy people seeing me. It gives me a bit of a thrill, you know? To know that someone is watching me. It's also much easier to indulge - I can 'forget' to shut the curtain in the morning. I can sit with my legs a little more open on the train. I can 'forget' that my flatmates have friends over and then get out the shower. No clean up, nice and easy.
But...I've never combined them.
Which is why I've planned for tonight.I know my route, I've stashed some clean clothes in a bush in the park. I've planned this in my head for so long.
And now I'm really doing it!
Oh, it's a feeling. I'm...I'm hot, but it's cold out - I'm nervous and a little scared, but that's what's so exciting about it. Anyone might see me tonight...wetting myself like a little girl.My location is perfect for tonight. It's a car park behind a supermarket. Not my local one - I'm horny but I'm not insane. It's a good distance from where I live.
There'll be a trolley attendant or two...maybe some members of staff. There'll definitely be c-cameras.
I...I'm gonna go quiet for a bit. It's enough to out here in the cold and desperate for a pee. I don't want to be sticky too....
This has been much more of a walk than I was expecting. Next time I'm wearing comfier shoes. Or socks. Or both. Or neither. And I'm definitely bring the drinks with me - not inside me.
God I need to pee now!
It's gotten so much worse as I've gone on. I started off with a little tingle, thinking I'd make it to the car-park before it became an issue. And now, as I'm walking up to the car park - I'm not sure I can make it through. There are toilets inside though, in case I ha ha ha ha no. There are no toilets for me. I'd rather make it home dry and desperate than give up now.
Sure is bright here. The lights are surprisingly strong and the whole carpark is lit up like a bonfire. It's also...quite busy.
Umm...
No Claire - you've made it this far. Now you're going to keep going.
But it's so busy!
N-no, it isn't. It's just the attendants. Look, he's going off to - oh my god that's Geoffrey.
Fuck.
He's in my knitting society at uni...
I'll give you a minute to stop smirking - I'm allowed to enjoy other things too! I don't just live to wet myself and get off, I have a life too. I bet you're into weirder shit.
That...that's definitely Geoff. God dammit. I'm not going to wet myself in front of him.
...
Yes I know I'm an exhibitionist - I'm not an idiot though. Geoff will definitely tell Tara and Johnny, and Tara's got a mouth that doesn't stop, and she's friends with gossiping Gertrude (rough name, I know) who'll tell everyone with ears. She'll definitely tell Dan and...sorry, uni stuff.
My point is everyone would know!
I'm not ready for that...Well...fuck. I can't do it here. I've come this way for nothing. Might as well go use the loos inside and woah ho ho I got you again.
Nah I worried I might see someone I knew - I have three back up plans.
Plan 1 - wet myself inside the shop. In case there's someone I know who's leaving. Geoff works here. Looks like he picked up an extra shift today.
Plan 2 - wet myself as I'm leaving. Geoff is still here, bad plan.
Alright I have one plan. And that plan is plan 3:
Wet myself on the way home.
But...I'm at the shop anyway. And I might feel desperate, but I know I can get more desperate. And I know this shop sells Dandelion and Burdock. Look it up, it's actually a really nice drink.
Also dandelions are meant to make you wet the bed. Allegedly. Not sure how. Maybe they put your hand in some warm water?
Fun fact - warm water trick doesn't work. You just wake them up and then they're angry at you for trying to make them wet the bed....
Shopping's done. Nothing eventful - sadly. Standing at the checkout was a bit rushed though - I've not so much as opened my can and already I'm squirming a little.
I'm not trying to but if I don't I am going to leak - and as you might remember - I haven't left the shop yet. I'm on my way out and onto the main road. I flick my can open with a hiss and take a deep mouthful. This is then followed by regret as my bladder sends a sudden and urgent message to my brain that I NEED TO PEE.The cold doesn't help for sure. I always find I pee more when it's cold. There's probably a reason. For now, I just care about how well it's working oh my god why do I have to pee this badly. I'd hoped I wouldn't need to pee by now. As I reach the end of the walkway into the shop I take a seat on the wall.
Sitting also doesn't help. Bringing my legs up has put new pressure on my already full bladder and my whole body protests. It takes all my effort to stop a premature leak from hitting my trackies, and these will not absorb anything. The slightest touch of moisture and these pants go black. I sit against the wall, almost crushing my half-full can as I try to regain my composure. I hope I didn't just moan.It's a moment before I do regain control of my urinary system, but I know it won't be long until I won't be able to. So what better thing to do than finish my drink?
It's not very lady-like, I know, but I down the can. It's almost a shame to waste it by drinking it so fast but it was also forty-pence. Can't complain. And hey, it gets me fuller and oh god. Desperate wave.
I won't make it much longer now - I know. My bladder feels like fire and my muscles are ready to give up. I have to breath carefully now - too much air in my body means not enough space for urine in my bladder - and it's still too close to the shop for me to reach that point. I should probably get a move on.My plan now was to get home and have a little latchkey incontinence at my front door. And by a little I mean - I want to moan and wriggle and wiggle as I fumble for my key in my trackie pockets - knowing full well it's under a flowerpot. I want someone to see me - anyone - as I lose control at the door. I want someone to watch as pee streaks down my legs and fuck fuck fuck! I...I can't make it. I won't make it home. I can't pee here though - Geoff.
I have to leave and now.I lift myself off the wall and try to pretend I don't feel something warm hit my thigh. The effort of standing up was just a little too much for my poor bladder. I can feel my face go hot and red as my pants are already getting cool and dark. I almost need to focus on walking forward, telling my feet to move manually as the rest of my body battles my bursting bladder. I can barely manage to limp forward and down the road. I have to make it to the end of this street at the very least, then I can turn a corner and...bliss! But until then. I have to hold it.
It's not easy. It's hard, in fact. Really hard. My bladder is begging me to empty it out. My palms are sweaty and I can't breath quietly. As I make the last few steps toward the end of the road before my right turn, I hear myself whimper. And then I force out a couple louder whimpers for good measure. I turn the corner. It's a distance from the shop now, I can't hear or see the shop or Geoffrey. Which means that...fuuuuuck.
My body must know what I'm going to do now. It knows that I've planned on wetting myself and now that I'm free of the shop - it's ready.
Almost too ready - I find myself buckling and bending over double, both hands pressed firmly into my groin as a wave of desperation shatters my entire body. Not now, please. I want to get further down before Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck! My body has other ideas!I feel the fabric of my trackies suddenly change texture as they're hit by a first jet of urine. There's a fierce hiss as my body pushes with all it's might into my fingers, flooding through them as if they weren't there. I moan loudly and lose my footing for a second, needing to grab onto the wall for support. This takes a vital hand from the front lines though, and as soon as I'm stable I notice that my left thigh feels a lot warmer than it did ten seconds ago. Some fresh drips fall off my leg and hit the floor below. I...I need a moment to breath.
I clutch the railings of the wall behind me in one hand. I can't tell if it's sweat or pee between my fingers anymore.
I hold myself steady and force myself to breath. Not one breath leaves me in silence - my first laboured breaths are hoarse, but as I regain composure I moan just a little. Still warm fabric clings to my left thigh - I can feel it. I don't think I can bring myself to look. I look straight down.It's...not as bad as I thought. I'm almost disappointed. My eyes are watering, my nose is almost running, and I don't feel any relief yet - There's plenty in my bladder yet. Plus the drink I had on the way out. That's still got to make it's way through.
The streak down my left leg is barely an inch wide but it stretches down past my knee, finishing on the inside of my left calf. My groin has an apple-sized dark patch between my legs and the fabric squishes a little when I push my legs together.
Now, like most of you, I've wet myself before. I've held until I couldn't, I've wet myself deliberately. I've wet the bed because I didn't want to get out of it. I've wet the bed after I've got out of it. Hell, I have wet myself twice while doing essays. The first one was an actual accident - studying at home. The second one was an hour later. And not an accident. And it led to me waking up a roomie because...You figure it out. Fun night though.
But...this is different.
The air isn't still, warm and familiar. The floor isn't a towel or some strategically placed laundry. There's no light to turn off.
Right now...It's cold. There's a chilling breeze every now and then and I definitely feel it. The wet patch on my trackies catches it every time which is a sharp and cold feeling. A harsh reminder that I've wet myself. The cold makes it feel way larger than it is, and I keep looking down to see if it's gotten bigger. It hasn't...yet. Right now I could probably get away with noone seeing - but that's not my plan. It's not so fun if I'm the only one who gets to see it.
And then, across the road - I see it. A stranger. Waiting at the lights.It's a man. Looks about mid twenties. Built like someone jammed some twigs into a jelly bean and topped it off with a head. He's the one. He gets to see me tonight. Not that I have much of a choice with how much my bladder hurts. I decide it's now or never and I make the short walk to the traffic lights just ahead.
He's across the road from me now. I'm directly opposite him. I'm standing stock still with nerves as they rack my body, but my bladder has to come first - it's making sure of it. As I press the button my bladder presses into me and lets me know it's now or never.
I stand up straight. I look across the road and stare at the knot of his tie as I...relax.
Immediately I feel warmth flood across my thighs and over my cheeks as I blush bright red. I try to look as natural as I can even as I feel the contents of my bladder begin to pour down both my legs - a hot shiver of relief floods up my spine and I let myself grin a wide grin. I'm really doing it! I'm wetting myself in public and Oh god he gave me eye-contact.
I look him dead in the eyes as the sound of splashing beneath my feet shatters the silent air. I can make out the gentle hissing of pee as it leaves my body and enters my trackies, and I can definitely hear the splashing of that same pee as it floods out my trackies, into my shoes and onto the floor. Warmth floods over my feet as the fabric of my trainers quickly soaks in what it can. When I shift my weight I can feel them squishing under my soles. I want to see the mess I'm making but...I can't look down. My head is stock still with a dumb grin, watching this stranger across the road as he starts to look down for me. I see him blush subtly in the dim light and he looks up again to meet my gaze. I can't look him in the eyes again - I have to turn away.I hear the bleeping of the traffic lights as the light turns green and I'm meant to walk - but I don't want to move right now. I don't want to disturb the streams pouring down my thighs - I want to savour every second of the warmth pouring down my legs as my bladder continues to empty itself straight into my pants. I flinch as I hear footsteps across the road and for the briefest second I feel myself get pee-shy as the stream stops and starts again nervously. It's slower now, but I'm not complaining - I can feel the stream coming straight out my body and onto my right thigh this time, pushed slightly forward. In the corner of my eye I see him walking closer as he crosses, and I look straight forward again, trying to hide my grin. As he steps onto the curb barely three feet away I realise quite how loudly I'm currently panting. I don't care. Not now. My pants are soaked, my shoes are soaked, my legs are soaked, and by god it feels great!
"The um, the light's green."
OH MY GOD I DIDN'T EXPECT HIM TO TALK
"T-thanks!" I splutter, feeling myself go redder in the face. I quickly force my legs into action and walk forward across the road, trying to pretend that my pants aren't soaked through or that the puddle I was stood in wasn't there before I was. I hear him make a noise as I shuffle across the street, staring straight down at my ruined pants and water-logged trainers. Well, not really 'water' logged but you get my point - each step makes a squish and a wet foot print. All I can do now is keep walking as the stream from my bladder begins slapping into either leg before dying into a series of drips.And I've done it.
I really did it!
My legs are warm, wet, and my knees are like jelly. I can't breath quietly, and my body is begging me for some time alone in my room. Each squishy foot step drives that point home as it leaves a wet trail of shoe prints behind me.Each footstep onward gets more and more intense. My thighs are pressed together, forcing warm fabric between them and rubbing against me. I can't get the thought of what I've done out my head - he saw everything! He watched me standing there and totally soak myself so casually! I...
I need to stand still for a moment....phew.
I...I guess I don't need to be home to have some time to myself, right?
I've left my bag in the park nearby. It's quiet, I used to go there all the time, and there's a great little shelter. But importantly - it's quiet. And I don't know if I'm going to be when I get there.I can't get it out my head. Being watched as I wet myself, walking around so obviously soaked, the electric touch of the now cold pants as they cling to my legs. Twice I had to stop walking and catch my breath, shuddering on the spot as my body holds back. And all this will be rewarded soon - I walk through the entrance of the park. My eyes dart to stare in every conceivable angle, looking as hard as they can for anyone who might need to be avoided. When I'm sure it's clear, I jog over to my hiding spot.
A huge willow tree at the back of the park, surrounded by bushes. You're not really meant to be behind the bushes, but who's going to know? It's the perfect spot.I sit myself down by the tree, knees raised and hugged to my chest. I peel off my soaked shoes and throw them to one side. I check my phone for the time. 3.30 now. My drink from earlier has had a chance to go through me now, and I happily relax and let it go all the way. I feel the damp seat of my pants swell with warmth again as fresh urine pours out of me and puddles on the ground beneath me. I push myself back a little until I'm sat on the one knobbly tree-root I found as a girl. Pee runs over the root and I press my body down into it. As my second stream reaches it's end I lean back against the tree and stretch my legs out.
The fresh puddle beneath me clings to my backside, and my body keeps the warmth. I run a hand under the waistband of my trackies and shudder as my fingers touch my skin. The soaked fabric of the trackies rests on the back of my hand. I run a finger up and down, smirking and letting my head fall back. I circle my finger around my clit as I think back. The worrying at the shop, my desperate walk away from it. I let my fingers move a little faster - the material of my pants rubs against the back of my hand adding that extra level of touch. Standing at the lights, watching him and deliberately emptying my bladder into my pants...I ease a finger into myself and let out a relaxed moan. I push my head into the tree trunk as my fingers pick up speed. The entire walk was great too - Anyone might have seen me, and now I'm panting. I was so obviously soaked, my pants were visibly ruined because I'd pee'd into them and now there's something else wet clinging to my fingers. My body begins to grow warm and I know I'm nearly done. I stretch my legs even more, splaying my toes which glisten in the moon light. My body picks itself forward from the trunk as my fingers run in and out of me. I feel body pull itself forward even further and my body begins to-"Claire?"
Fuffffffck...!
My body tenses up and my eyes open wide - a mix of surprise and orgasm. I stare in horror at the familiar face of Summer as my body convulses in orgasm. I feel myself shout out and my eyes clench shut, face pointed towards the floor, trying to wish her out of existence. I sit on the spot grunting for a moment before I can bring myself to speak.
"S-summer?" I say, not looking up.
"Claire, claire, claire." She says, mocking me. My body is still fizzing as I bring myself to look her in the eyes. I lift the hand that isn't in my pants to wave at her. Bits of grass fall out my open palm and I realise I must have been clasping firmly at the ground.Summer was my room-mate in my first year. She has a house-share now, but we still see each other. She's not well off as such, but she's never short of cash.
"So what - it isn't what it looks like?" She says, mocking me. She steps over my outstretched legs as if to straddle me.
"W-what..." I start, not remembering it being this hard to talk. "W-what does it look like?"
"It looks like you're masturbating under a tree." She says, pointing to my crotch. The outline of the back of my hand is very visible. Especially with the soaked pants shimmering in the light. I bring my hand out and give her the peace sign. Poor idea - I notice only too late the string of fluid between my finger tips.
"...don't tell anyone?" I ask her, hoping for the best. She smirks.
"Hey, we all need a little extra money."
"What?"
"Well, out here where noone's around, at this time of night and your phone sitting by your side." She says, pointing at it. I forgot it was there. "So are you making a private video or what?"
"P-pardon?!"
"Oh don't be coy." Say Summer, taking a seat next to me, realising her mistake and pushing herself a few inches further. "I've been selling pictures of my feet to weirdos since first year. What are you selling?"
"Selling?" I ask, still trying to figure out what planet I'm on.
"What, you're not selling videos?" She asks, frowning. "Is this actually you-"
"No no, f-for sale!" I cut in. I wish I'd thought of that...
"Ever need a camera man?" She asks, standing up. "Maybe a second model?"
Summer stands up and walks behind the large rock where I'd left my bag. She picks it up and passes it to me.
"Don't look at me like that" She says with a grin. "I can't get by on part-time pay all the time. And neither can you, wet pants. What's that one called...omowashi? omorashi?"
I blush bright red. She sees this. She smirks.
"Oh my god, this is your fetish." She says, half laughing. "Well, you've got my number. Give me a call if you ever want any extra pocket money."
And she walks off, leaving me to my now quite cold pants.
How did she know where my bag was?- BlueWetter , hyperman , Trickling Down and 19 others
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1 hour ago, dutchartist said:
If I may ask, then what belongs in a subforum called artwork?
https://www.omorashi.org/forum/116-artwork-and-doujinshi/
Smart-arse
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Hey guys - Why would I have a catchphrase!
Remember that? It's my new catchphrase. I gotta use it.When did I last upload?
June?
Am I late?Let's not dwell on that and answer more questions!
First question. Well, it's not really a question...I should do more lying down - it's my good side.
You like my backside? Well I'm glad you-
Oh.
I get it.
Because you can't see my face.
Har har.
You don't get to ask any more questions.
Rolo says the same thing.
Here's my 'good side' anywayAnd how did I meet Rolo?
He was looking for actors for some interactive story...I think it was called Mana Pools?
Anyway, you know how Rolo is. So he lost interest in that pretty quick - But I've stuck around and he hasn't kicked me out. He does say he's planning on doing something with Mana Pools again...but he's been saying that for two years now.And as far as being a spider girl goes...err, the one that gives me the best legs, I guess. But spiders aren't known for their legs.
As in they don't have pretty legs.
Look, I didn't think this through!Next question - Do I live in England or the underworld?
Ha ha, what's the difference?
I'm from the underworld, but I've been spending a lot of time in London. There's a lot to do around here and I enjoy the weather. It's always shit. It can get a bit hot downstairs.
And I do have some imp friends. Not just imps - all sorts really. What, don't you like imps?
Bit racist.Next question - Do I play Splatoon 2?
I do not.
Although - I did once cosplay as an inkling for a local convention.
Turns out carrying a liquid tank on your back all day really begins to weigh down on you.
And the splashing...Not great if you're in a toilet queue...
That left a mess.Next question - Sorry if I offended - Oh don't worry, you didn't!
Takes more than that to offend me.
Like someone saying they won't make friends with us imps.
Do I visit friends via subterranean travel?
I....err
What, like a mole?
I don't frequently tunnel around if that's what you're asking.
Why would I travel undergr-
Oh!
The underground! Duh!
Yeah I frequently take the underground - easiest way to get around London.
Not the nicest though.
Quite annoyed the trains don't have toilets on them - and the platform toilets?
Don't get me started!
I'm barefoot half the time - you couldn't PAY me to walk in there!
I...umm, do have the occasional accident though...because there's no toilets.
One time, for example - I was coming back to Rolo's after going out.
So the platform toilets were all locked - I did try.
But also the train was quite busy for some reason - I think there must have been some event.
So I'm sitting on the train with my bag on my lap, trying to hold in a very full bladder...and not bring attention to myself.
I don't always want to wet myself, right - and this was one of those times.
It was quite late, I wanted to get home, and I didn't want to make a scene
So I try sitting as naturally as possible
Trying to keep still even though my bladder was screaming at me to pee.
Now usually - don't tell anyone - I'd figure out something, right?
Like, I'd pee in a bottle, or I'd stop off on a station and either try to find a toilet or a secluded place on the edge of the platform
Once I even had to pop a squat on a carriage
But there were people on this one, and my bottle was still full of drink - which I wasn't going to ruin.
I had planned to get off at the next stop when I felt a sudden warmth in my groin...
I leaked. Just once. Nothing massive.
I went bright red - redder than normal - and tried to hide it.
I had no choice now - it was get off at the next station and find somewhere to pee - probably on the floor under a bench or something (don't judge me, I had no choice!)
Well, I couldn't do that anyway - anyone who gets the underground can tell you how very reliable it is
So half-way through a tunnel, the train stops, and the overhead voice comes on with it's We're very sorry for the delay
So I start swearing in my head and try even harder to look natural.
The train sat still, I tried to sit still, my bladder got fuller and fuller until...
I couldn't hold it...
I tried looking normal, I tried to ignore it!
I sat there on the train, just wetting myself and trying to look normal as it splashed about at my feet and pooled around my chair...
It was so embarrassing!
But...I committed to it - acted normal and sat in my puddle until my stop...didn't look anyone in the eye. Pants were quite cold when I got off the train though.Of course in hindsight - I loved it!
It's a moment I frequently remember if I'm feeling a bit...'bored'.
God, I'm feeling a bit stirred now...But I'll behave myself while I'm talking to you lot!
Or I'll try to...I really have to pee now...N-next question.
Ooh, there's a lot in this one!
What helps me hold best?
Here - I'll show you!Legs crossing, hand holding, and jamming my tail between my legs usually helps - and it's mostly helping now!
I'm so glad one of you told me to prove how much I can hold...God I have to go!
I don't usually hold this long! Usually it's down my legs by now - but I'm holding for you lot! N-not for too much longer though I don't think!
Haah...N-next - what's the lifespan of my species?
God, keep it light, would you! I don't want to think about that!
Just kidding - I'm a demon, so I technically live forever. Can't kill me!
Well, actually you can - don't though! It bloody hurts!
I do spawn again though - If I've misbehaved enough. I think I have...let's not find out.Next - do my sisters enjoy holding?
Speaking of holding...God! Gotta go...
Anyway - I think Molly does? I'm not sure. She's been wetting herself a bit more often recently I've noticed.
I made her have an accident once...I think she enjoyed it.
Not sure how I feel about knowing that I gave my sister a fetish. She is my sister, after all.
Beth wets herself sometimes because she's an athlete and 'that's what they do' she says.
Do cyclists really wet themselves in races?
I should take up cycling.
Lucy definitely doesn't. I made her wet herself once or twice - I mentioned it here once!
Yeah, she wasn't pleased.
As for the others?
No idea.
However - I do think Rolo said something about doing some stuff with Molly. Maybe you'll see her soon.
Hopefully I won't - that's just weird.W-why do I prefer wetting?
Because right now I'm squirming about and my bladder is screaming at me! God I just want to - to let it all go!
It's such a great feeling when you let go, right?
The relief, the warmth...
I should stop thinking about it - Ugh!Is poor - don't call him poor, he's a git.
Is 'poor' Rolo okay?
After I hit him, or more generally?
He's more or less fine. I think. He's still breathing. Can't ask for too much more.When holding, w-where do I feel it most?
C-could you stop bringing attention to this!
God!
B-but, I feel it right...here!
Dammit! You made me leak!
G-god, it's even bulging a little bit!
God, I want to let it go!N-neeeext!
Do you ask too many questions?
Too many about holding!
You keep bringing attention to it!
Are you trying to make me wet myself!?
...Dumb question.I'll definitely give those Milovania challenges a go.
I asked a friend what she thought of them - she recommends the one where you're in a haunted house. She said she once reached the bathroom but some ghost-maid made her wait so she could clean it. While she was waiting she...well, she made another mess.
Of course the maid isn't actually real - she had to clean up herself.Don't feel sorry! I like a lot of questions. Gives me something to do!
Where was I on 26th of April '86?
Err...
I'm gonna google that date.
...
Oh! That!
Yeah I had...nothing...nothing to do with that!
N-nothing at all. No more questions on this.Next...Stanley calls me a critter.
T-thanks Stanley.
No more from y-
Oh wait, you said they looked like male me's...
That sounds cute...You're good.
There's probably a few like me around there. Great place to go camping.
I think my dad mentioned doing that once.
Ugh, I don't want to think about my dad! I'm this close to losing it! I don't want to think about Dad!Next...I posted about peeing upside down.
Man, that was fun.
It's weird standing up and like...your hair clings to you. And it's warm.
Like getting out the shower but only on the back of my head. And I'm not at all clean.
God! First the train, now this, and all on a full bladder.
I'm not sure I did leak - that might be something else...
nnnn!
Alright, now I've definitely leaked!
And I've still got a bloody can left to drink!I could have made a fountain...
I think Patrons got to see me make a fountain.
I'm not gonna shill Rolo's patreon though - you can find that yourself if you want to throw money at him.
You do get to see nude stuff though.Next - how many sisters do I have.
Quite a few.
Maybe you'll see them in the coming future.What do fans see Lucy and Shantae doing at college?
God, you wish - Lucy was a total nerd in college.
Also Shantae is a video game.
She is cute though - Might ask Rolo to draw more of her.
When he wakes up.What are my hobbies?
Aside from wetting?
Err...I like playing games, I cosplay when I can...I like reading.
'Bating, of course. Can you call that a hobby?
I like going camping, going out with friends...
The usual stuff really.
Other than that...All sorts, really. I like doing new stuff.
Right now I like slapping my knee because HOLY SHIT I have to pee. So bad!I fu...I really hope this question has nothing to do with wetting...I don't know if I can handle thinking about that!
Next question is...
What's my favourite outfit to wet.
First of all - shit timing.
I HAVE TO PEE SO BAD AND YOU'RE NOT HELPING!!!
Haah, and also...I think I answered it before
...
Yeah, it was the first thing I answered.
Still, I don't mind answering again!
Jammies - every time!
It's so nice to wet jammies, isn't it?
They're light and comfy - honestly I'd wear them all the time if I could get away with it.
And roomy enough to stick a hand down and...do things.
Usually I've already gone in them before I wake up though.
But if I haven't...
Then it's a great start to my day when I can have a coffee and some nice warm relief.
...
Stop making me think about relief! Fuck, nearly leaked again!
Anyway, here's another pic of me having fun in my Jammies.
...
Oh shit, wrong pic...
Didn't mean to post that one.
I look a total mess...Haven't even shaved in that one...
It is a good pic though...
Does that bother you at all?
What are your opinions on a bit of hair down there?
If you like it...Maybe I'll grow it out every now and then.
I like it because it means I can be even lazier than usual.No more pee questions, okay?
Because I'm gonna lose it!
Fuck!
...Excuse my language.Why isn't Rolo doing his coms?
Yeah good question - why aren't you doing coms, Rolo?
...
He's still out right now, I'll ask him when he comes to.
I think it's because he's an idiot.Are my horns pointy?
Fairly pointy. Not like...razor sharp. But I could hurt someone with them. And probably hurt my neck at the same time.
They're mostly just horny.
I can relate after recounting the train story...and the upside-down story...and the jammies...and my poor, poor bladder!Do I wet while flying?
Would it disappoint you if I said no?
If I'm gonna make a puddle, I want to stand in it. So warm!Have I died?
Let me check my pulse.
...
Uhh...N-next!
Do I hibernate?
Rolo says I sleep in too much, does that count?
Well, he thinks I'm sleeping. Usually I'm wide awake and enjoying myself in bed.
Gotta keep up my reputation as a bedwetter, right?
And it's much more fun if you can feel the bed getting wet...God, I've got something to do after I've finished with this hold...
Something private.
Nothing that would interest you lot, right?Last question!
What's it like where I'm at?
I mean...I'm in London.
I'm from the underworld, but I'm in London at the moment - hence those bloody pay toilets!
Also I've picked up a bit of a local accent.
How many cockney demon girls do you know?
Because if you know me, it's one.
Mum's not a fan of it.
And I'm staying with Rolo for the most part. That environment?
Bit of a mess to be honest.
It's not anything to do with me, of course...There!
Only half a year or so late, but it's done!
Time is funny for me. There are reasons but...I can't be bothered to go into them.
Too desperate anyway!
God I've got to pee.
But...I promised you I'd down all these drinks...so here goes nothing.
...
...
Fuck!
I can already tell that was a bad idea!
Well, I think we're about to find my max capacity!
I've certainly found out that I wriggle like I'm being shocked!
I'm, uhh, I'm gonna set up some towels before I answer the next questions!
...
Welp, I tried standing up and leaked again...Just a drip though!
Let me get those towels - see you next time! -
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"Jesus Dan! What do you eat?"
Dan doesn't answer - instead he gives me a wink.
"No!" I say recoiling and closing the bathroom door behind me. "I'm not using that - that ain't natural!"
"Could use the customer toilet?" Dan suggests.
"No you can't" Charlie says, walking in with three plates balanced on her arms. "They're broken."
"How did someone break the toilet?" Dan asks her. She shrugs, nearly dropping a plate.
"Doesn't matter." I say. "I'm a big girl, I can hold it."
"Like you did on Friday?" Charlie asks with a grin.
"Charlie, I will put you in the microwave if you mention that ever again."
"Why, what happened on Friday?" Dan asks.
"Nothing. Nothing happened on Friday, right Charlie?" She smirks at me. Dan gives us both a confused look.
"Whatever you say, Amy." Charlie laughs. "You off then?"
"Yup!" I smile. "About time too, today's been dragging on."Today has been dragging on, to be fair, but that's not the main reason I want to leave quickly. I really need to pee. Luckily for me, Dan's left the staff toilet a hazard zone and today I've forgot my HAZMAT suit. Customer toilet's down again - I don't know how they do it. Happens at least once a month that the thing packs in, which means letting customers through the kitchen to avoid needing to mop up. But whatever - home's not too far. I can make it. Probably.
I take a seat in the staff room and pull out my jeans from my bag. Do I need to get changed though? The trains are pretty hit or miss, and a few minutes could make all the difference. Plus it means pulling my legs up, and being in my state, I'd really prefer not to. Too much pressure. I put my jeans back in my bag. I'll leave my shoes in my locker though, it's too much hassle keeping these at home and I don't want to risk putting up with an angry Angie again. I kick one shoe off, then the other. As I pick them up I hear the door open."Did you really?"
"Did I what?" I ask. Dan smirks at me from the doorway.
"On Friday," he clarifies. I blush bright red.
"She played it off like a champ though!" Comes Charlie's voice from behind Dan. "She would have carried on serving if I hadn't insisted that Angie give her the day off."
"Really?" Dan raises a brow.
"Yeah dude - Amy's biggest worry was that she wouldn't get paid for the whole day."
"Not that she'd be wandering around in a pissy skirt?"
"You realise she's a student, right Dan? She'd serve naked if it meant more pay."
"I-I wouldn't," I cut in. I might. Depends on the pay, really.
"Well you can thank me for insisting you got full pay." Charlie beams. "I'm sure I'll find a way you can repay me some time."
"So what poor sod had to mop it up?" Dan asks.
"Angie of course," Charlie grins. "I wasn't gonna touch it - plus she kinda caused it."
"Explains why she threw the mop head away - she usually leaves that to me," Dan chuckles. "On the note of extra pay though - could I get one of you two in on Saturday? Brittney can't do Saturday - some family business."
"Again?" I ask.
"Yeah," he says rolling his eyes. "Can you do it?"
"With overtime pay?"
"Fiiiiine," Dan says with a silly smile. "If you insist."
"I'll be there," I tell him. He gives me finger guns and ducks out. Charlie walks in with her sandwich."Why did you tell him!?"
"He asked," Charlie says, biting her sandwich.
"Because you hinted to it!"
"Oh come on Amy. It's funny."
"You..." I say, trying to come up with something smart and witty. I can't though, so I just point at her.
"Afraid he won't like you because he knows you pee?" She says before taking another bite. I blush bright red again. She smiles when she notices. "I think he thought it was cute that you were just gonna carry on." I can feel my face getting redder. I look away and pull my trainers out my bag.
"Did you clean those already?" Charlie asks.
"I'm gonna throw these at you."
"I'd rather you didn't."
"Then don't mention this again."
"You sure you can make it home?" She giggles. I raise a shoe and she pretends to block.
"I'm sure I'll be fine."
"Should I get you the mop just in case?""Oh, Amy!"
I let go of the front door and turn to see Dan coming over. I can feel my heart leap a little, but I try to ignore it.
"Before you leave, I uh..." he starts. My heart skips a beat. "I have... your share of the tip jar."
Oh.
"T-thanks," I say, putting my hand out. He smiles. "Plus a little extra for dealing with Angie like that - she ought to take it a bit easier on you after that."
"You think so?"
"Not at all," he laughs. "But you can use it as a get-out-of-jail free if you ever need it, I'm sure."
"Could come in handy."
"For sure," he says, grinning. "Anyway! See you tomorrow!"
"See you tomorrow, Dan!" I say, pointing a finger gun at him. He gives me one back.Maybe I should have put up with the staff toilet. As I make my way to the station, I can't help but feel that I might be making a dumb choice, and my bladder isn't happy with me. It's almost enough to distract me from the wonderful sight of my train pulling out of the station.
Shit.
I tap my card on the reader and the gate swings open, letting me through. As I walk up to the platform I can see the train as it heads down the tracks, almost mocking me as it's swallowed by the tunnel. I suppose I could use the station's public toilets...Actually I'd rather wet myself. Last time I went in there it might have given me nightmares. God, the smell. I still wake up at night... Alright it wasn't that bad, but you get my point. I'd rather piss myself. But I won't, I can hold it. Probably. I'm desperate enough that it's pretty tempting to brave the wasteland that is station toilets. I'm not quite that desperate yet, though.How long is this train gonna be, anyway? Five minutes, the sign says - five minutes my arse. It's been five minutes since I got here. Least it feels like it anyway. I adjust my bag over my back and look around. It's not too busy today, which is good, but there's still enough people here that I probably won't be getting a seat. So that's cool. I'm starting to regret that last water at work though...
The train finally pulls in with an excuse from the overhead speaker about signal failures or something exciting - doesn't change the fact that I've been stood here for a good ten minutes with an increasingly impatient bladder. I'm trying to subtly press my thighs together and hoping that no one's really watching me. The doors open and people swarm out onto the platform. I can't help but be a bit envious of the train getting to empty out... Did I really just think that? How desperate am I that a train is making me jealous? Regardless, once the people are all off, I try to make my way on.
As predicted, all the seats are taken by the time I manage to squeeze on. I get myself into a corner behind a man who smells overpoweringly of curry powder and sweat. I don't have much wriggle room, and as the doors close I start to realise I might end up wriggling a fair bit more than I want to. Problem is I'm sure this man will be able to feel every movement I make, and I'm already rubbing my thighs together. I don't really think it's helping much though - no matter how much I rub my legs together, I still really need to pee. The train lurches forward - and instantly stops, almost throwing me onto the floor. Instead the curry and sweat man catches me in his huge backpack.
"S-sorry!"How long is this train gonna take? It's only five stops, but I've only just reached the first. Trains aren't usually this slow, are they? I think I'm just so desperate now that it's slowing down time. Every second hurts. And I can't exactly hold myself on the train without looking like an idiot. I'm embarrassed enough awkwardly shuffling my legs while trying to keep still. Some beardy bloke at the far end of the carriage seems to have noticed me - I'm trying to ignore him and also not blush. It's not easy though, not when I've got a bladder demanding my attention. And it's getting harder to ignore that too - it's the only thing I can think of... Maybe I should read some of the adverts to distract me... or they can all be about drinks. One advert for water, one for juice, and one for some shitty light beer. Which looks like pee. And now I'm back to focusing on my bladder and how much pee is in it. At least the train's pulling out of the station.
It's so distracting - the beer advert I mean. It's bad enough trying to ignore the ocean building up inside me, but this advert on the roof is almost mocking me. It looks like pee, it's being poured out, and there's the word 'Relax!' in big yellow letters over the bottle. Relax with a nice bottle of Budweiser. I mean you couldn't really get closer to that pisswater without actually peeing into the bottle. I'd kill for a bottle right now to be perfectly honest. Well, and some privacy too. Not just gonna pee in a bottle on the train while people are looking. But I'd be bloody tempted right now. My poor bladder's so full, and there's an advert with what might as well be pee, telling me to relax. Who designs these ads? When's the next stop anyway? Oh. It's here. Two stops down. O-only three more.
Well now I can't move. Train's really packed on now, and I'm being pushed into a wall by curry-sweat's backpack. I can't move - not even my legs or I'll fall over. I've taken off my own backpack and put it under my legs...which was a horrible decision. I can barely close my legs now - never mind clamp them shut. And I'm certainly not brave enough to put a hand down there to hold it. I just need to try to look natural. Even though I can feel all the weight of my bladder practically at the gates - and I don't know how much more those gates can hold. Especially with the train bouncing every now and again. Each bounce brings me closer and closer to breaking point. ALL the weight of my bladder is basically slammed down for a second, with nothing but my muscles keeping the contents in. Very much against the will of my bladder. Each bump is almost enough to - Eep!
I felt that. Big bump. Too much. I slam my thighs together over my bag, squishing it beneath my feet - but it's too late. There's a terrible warm feeling in my tights again. I'm getting flashbacks to Friday. Even over the roar of the train through the tunnel I can hear the drip - it sounds to me like thunder. My face goes bright red, and I daren't look down... but I have to know. I tilt my head down, trying to adjust my skirt to make it look natural as I do so - and then I see it. A single drop on the grey canvas of my bag, stained dark and directly underneath me. My heart sinks. Act natural. I look up and try to see if anyone noticed. No one seems to have seen - or at least they don't care if they did. I really hope they didn't.
How much longer is this train going to be!? I can't hold it! I REALLY need to pee!
I've already leaked once, and I really don't want to do it again - I've resigned to leaning against the wall with my thighs pressed together. Hardly subtle, I know, but I'd rather look desperate to pee than look very wet and very relieved.I must look a sight right now - packed into the corner of the carriage, legs clamped together, one eye closed, probably red with shame and desperation. The train's only just pulling into the fourth station now, and I've already dribbled. The heat has died down a little, but where my legs are so pressed together it's still warm. A cooler stripe is reaching a couple inches down my thigh, and that's gone cold. It's the worst feeling - not only am I bursting to pee, I've got this cold and clammy thigh. At least people are getting off at this stop...
...But not so many that there any empty seats. The carriage is empty enough though that everyone can see me, struggling to not wet myself on the train like a child. Mister curry-and-sweat got off at least, so that's an improvement. I can stand up and put my bag back on, giving me space to cross one leg over the over. It feels a little easier, but not much for sure. Every movement now seems to press down on my bladder. It feels like a brick, nestled inside me. Begging to be emptied. Every second makes me want to empty it more and more - but I can't. And anyway, it's just one more stop.
And the train's pulled to a stop. But we're not at the platform. The overhead speaker comes on while I'm bending down a little with one leg wrapped around another.
"We apologise for the delay, there's been a signal failure ahead, and the train's being held at the station while it's being fixed. We should be moving shortly."
Well fuck. I hear myself groan as I bend down even further in a futile attempt to hold it all in. It hurts now to hold it, but I have to. P-people are looking at me. Why did I groan!? Fuuuuuck!How long will this train be stuck here! Fucking delays! Why now? I should have used the staff toilet at work, I'd rather have to deal with whatever Dan had left in the bowl than deal with what's built up in me now - what I'm scared will soon be running down me. I have to hold it! I can't let it go! But I want it to go - I can't! I can't let it go! I... I can't hold it!
Another hot burst inside my tights and I know that I'm starting to lose this battle. I whimper out loud as I feel my bladder losing its grip again, followed by a warmth spreading down my leg. It's an odd feeling, losing control like this - I felt the pee coming out, and I can definitely feel it running down my leg - but I didn't feel my bladder push. It just...came out. This is...the worst. I'm going to wet myself again, aren't I? I've already started...The train lurches forward again, catching me off guard. Another hot spurt erupts in my tights - this time I catch it with a hand as I slam it into my skirt. Perfect. Now there's a wet spot the size of my fist, under my fist. It's so warm - my hand's wet - but I can't give up. I have to hold it! People are whispering and pointing - I can hear them - but I can't look up. I'm looking down through tears at my legs which are clamped tightly together and quivering. And that's when I feel it again.
Those waves I got on Friday.My breaths begin to grow short - I can't breathe in fully because my lungs are even pushing down on my bladder. Every inch of my body wants this to end - and my bladder is starting to fight me. Hot pressure starts mounting in my gut - rising and rising. My breaths get shorter - I know this is almost the end. But the train's so close to the stop - just a few seconds more and FUCK!
The train lurches again and I lose my balance. My legs unwrap and I have to kick down to find the floor. The slightest distraction from holding everything in - but I can tell already it was enough. The pressure inside me spikes and I let out a yelp, clasping for my groin with both my hands now. From the corner of my eye I can see people looking.
Pressure keeps growing in me, and I can feel it pressing almost directly against the gates, ready to burst. A sharp breath, and the pressure grows even higher - I can feel, now with my fingers, something warm and wet beginning to trickle out of me. Staring down at my hands, I can see it running over a thumb.It's all too much - I can't hold it any more.
My entire body lurches as my bladder forces itself to squeeze - and this time I can't hold it back. I hear myself gasp as pee begins to erupt out of me and into my hands, soaking them almost immediately, running through my fingers and splashing loudly on the floor. I can hear other passengers gasping as my bladder takes its hot, wet victory over me. Pee begins to splatter beneath me uncontrollably, cascading down my legs, soaking into my tights and shoes. Even hotter than the pee running down my legs is my face, undoubtedly bright red. I can feel a tear running down my cheek - pathetic in comparison to the rivers running down my legs. The relief begins to hit as I surrender to my bladder, sending a wave of warmth up my back. There's not much else I can do now - even if I could stop, what would be the point? My skirt's soaked and getting wetter by the second, people are watching me have an accident, and the puddle's beginning to run down the carriage away from me. One man picks his bag off the ground and puts it on his lap. I'd blush more if my face wasn't already more blush than skin.
It's too late now to even try to stop it. I just stare at the ground as I let my bladder pour into my tights. I drop my hands limply by my sides, the sleeves of my hoodie dripping with the pee they've absorbed. They feel like weights on my hands, still warm and fresh with urine. Almost a reminder of my second accident - as if the soaked skirt and tights weren't enough. I can feel a lump in my throat as I stare at the growing puddle underneath me, still rippling and splashing as the last drips of pee fall into it. I keep staring down as the train finally pulls into the station. The puddle ripples with every movement the train makes beneath me. I can't look up - I know people are looking.
I hear the doors open and that's my cue - I make a quick dash to get out, nearly slipping in the puddle as I do. My feet squish with every step in my sodden trainers. How could this get any worse? My skirt's soaked, my tights are soaked - and torn, I noticed while staring at my ankles. My shoes and socks are soaked. Even the sleeves of my hoodie are soaked. Now for the walk home...
"Oh, hey Amy!"
fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.
I turn to face an all too familiar voice. It's Charlie. What's she doing here? In fact I'll ask.
"W-what are you doing here?"
"I thought that was you! I could tell by the-"
"Charlie."
"Sorry! I'm staying at my brothers this week - I didn't know you lived around here!"
"I...uhh...yeah..."
"Another accident then?" She asks me in what I think is an attempt to be sympathetic. I glare at her. "I did offer to get you a mop."
I look down and sob once - it's all gotten too much. But then I feel something a bit unexpected. Charlie puts her arm over my shoulder.
"Hey, there there Amy!" She says, pulling my shoulders a couple times. "It's not too bad - how far do you live from here anyway?"
"A, um...about six stops on the bus from here."
"Well that won't do - my brother's is just around the corner - don't worry, he isn't in for a good few hours," she says. I look up and give her a weak smile. "Come on, I've probably got some spare clothes there too."I look down at the wet clothes that I've left on the side of her tub, draped in so they can dry out. I've run the shower head over them to get them as clean as I can. Charlie's given me an old pair of trackies she used to use as jammies. They've got some significant holes in them, but they're better than walking around nude or wet. I pull them up over my slightly glistening legs and tie up the drawstrings. Turns out she's a couple inches wider than me and doesn't own any belts, so it's either these, tiny pyjama shorts, or a Pikachu onesie. The onesie looks more comfortable, but I will be walking home in these. I make my way out the bathroom and head into the lounge. Charlie's already set herself up in her own jammies. She's half-lying on her sofa with a controller in her hand and Battlefront 2 on the screen. She picks a second controller off the ground with her foot and kicks it onto the couch before patting there with her hand.
"Fancy a couple games before you head off?"I smile and take the controller.
-
- Popular Post
- Popular Post
"Are those uniform?"
I turn to see Angie - my boss - leering over me and pointing at my toes.
"Pardon?""Those shoes," she says, looking me in the eye with her steely gaze. "Not really uniform are they?"
"Err..."
"You know there's a reason we have a uniform."
"Oh come off it, Angie!" I moan, sliding a hand into my pocket. "My other shoes are dirty - I can get away with these for one day, right?"
"How did your other shoes get dirty?"
"The, err, rain yesterday. I got them muddy on the way home," I say to her. Actually I woke up late and couldn't find them, but it was pretty muddy yesterday.
"Well they still aren't uniform," she says with a sneer.
"What, you want me to take them off? Should I do my shift barefoot?"
"...Don't let it happen again," she snarls at me. She turns to walk out the staff-room, stopping at the door and turning to me. "I'll be making a note of this." She says before walking out. I stick my tongue out at her as the door closes behind her.They're just trainers. Who really cares about shoes, right? It's not even like they're a bright colour - they're black, just like the uniform shoes. And a lot comfier, mind you. Does anyone even look at our shoes at work? Like who actually cares abou-
"Forgot your shoes again Amy?" There's a voice from the door. It's Charlie, one of my coworkers.
"Maybe," I say with a smirk. She smirks back.
"Angie have a go at you?"
"Of course."
"The same Angie who spilled gravy on her shoes last week, then came in the next day in studded boots?"
"Did she actually?"
"Yeah," Charlie laughs. "She got a right earful off Mick."
"You on your break?"
"Yeah," She says, taking a seat on the little stool by the wall, pulling a sandwich out of her bag. "God! Been a long shift. Some customers, let me tell you..."
"What's happened today?" I ask with a feigned sigh.
"Oh, the usual... Well, not quite," She says, beginning to laugh. "Someone today complained about their gazpacho soup starter. You'll never guess what was wrong with it."
"What was it?"
"They wanted it warmed up!" She giggles. "You should have seen the way his friends looked at him when he angrily told me the chefs didn't know what they were doing! I could have died!"
"Ha!"
"His mates told him it was meant to be cold! I wish you could have seen him cringe! Went as red as the soup," she says, giggling all the while. "Still, he made up for it with a generous tip."I stand up and drop my bag to one of the other stools, taking out my work shirt. "Was he anyone I knew?"
"Maybe," Charlie says, taking a bite out of her sandwich. "He was the regular with the curly hair." She goes on, spitting out bread crumbs.
"Oh, him!" I say, taking my shirt off and draping my work shirt over my shoulders. "With the wide nose?"
"That's the one." Charlie grins to me. "No time to iron, either?"
"Hm? Oh!" I look down at my crinkled shirt as I do the buttons up. "Do you think Angie will notice?"
"She notices everything," Charlie reminds me. "She had a go at me one time for wearing odd socks."
"Really? Odd socks?" I say, dropping my jeans to my feet and stepping out of them.
"You're telling me," she says through another mouthful. "I left them in her locker after my shift. She wasn't pleased with that."
"Especially with the state of your socks," I smirk, pulling up my work skirt.
"I'll have you know my socks are just fine."
"Pretty sure they've set off the smoke alarms more often than the toaster," I add, tying my apron around my waist. She sticks her tongue out at me as I move to the mirror.Well, I'm not the best presented today, with my un-ironed white blouse and my black trainers, but I'd call myself passable. The rest of my uniform is more or less fine. Dark grey skirt, white apron, grey tights. Familiar sight. My hair could be better, but maybe my mussy hay-coloured ponytail will offset my wrinkled blouse. If not, the apron covers most of it. Still, I've come in looking worse. So's Charlie, for that matter.
"Looking on point," Charlie says to me, biting into her sandwich and giving me the 'okay' symbol with her free hand. I give her some finger guns back.
"Out to work then," I sigh, giving myself one last look in the mirror. "Gotta use the loo first."
"Good luck getting past Angie," Charlie mumbles through bread. I roll my eyes at her knowingly."Ah! Amy!" Comes a horribly familiar voice as I leave the staff room. "Got a couple sat down at table four, go and get their order."
"I just gotta use the loo real qui-"
"First the shoes, now this - no, go and server table four."
"But I need to go!"
"You're meant to go before work, get to it," she growls. I frown as she briskly turns away to deal with something in the kitchen.
Technically, she's right. I should have gone before work. But I woke up late! I didn't have time to go this morning, and then I missed my train, so I bought some Red-Bull and missed the next train (Bloody thing was early!) so I had to wait for a third - I didn't know if that would be early too so I didn't dare leave the platform, then that train was late so I sat around for a good fifteen minutes for nothing, then I'm bricking it on the whole ride to work because I thought I was an hour late, then I checked the roster to find I'd been moved forward an hour and all my panicking was for nothing, then I got to work just on time.
No time for a toilet break at any point, and the Red-Bull was a poor idea. Now Angie won't let me use the toilet. Bitch.Why did it have to be Angie today? Why couldn't we have Dan today? Dan's pretty cool. He doesn't get hung up on footwear, or stop us using the toilet. Sometimes he lets us have a drink on the job too. I like Dan. Still, it is what it is - and what it is is me trying to ignore an uncomfortably full bladder while I try to take an order from table four. I do my best to walk forward without rubbing my legs together as I make my way to the table.
Work goes as one might expect from a usual day. I take table four's order and relay it to the kitchen. Then I direct in some more customers to a table. Then I ask Angie if I can use the toilet. Then I try not to frown as I take the new group's order after Angie's told me to hold it. Then I bring in table four's starters, one in each hand - it's a lot harder to balance when it feels like I've got a balloon in my belly. What's even harder is bring them a bottle of wine, hearing it swish back and forth, trying to look natural and ignore the fact I think I'm blushing as I put it on the table. It's agony to watch as I pour it into the glass for the girl, hearing it splash and trickle into the glass, watching her swirl it around the glass like she knows what she's doing, then pouring in more.
I'm no stranger to holding it in for a long time - there's been plenty of long study sessions where I've put off using the toilet to finish an essay - hell, there have been plenty of close calls after the essays were finished. And there was one time that I ended up 'using the toilet' as I was finishing the summary. Worth it though, I got top marks on that paper. Desk smelled a bit funny afterwards...
A crashing sound from behind me as I walk away from table four cuts my thought process short. I close my eyes before I turn around. When I open them I can see the wine bottle on the floor, shattered to pieces. A puddle of white wine is slowly making its way toward me.
"Sorry!" The man says at the table, smiling at me.
"It's quite alright," I lie to him. "I'll bring you a new one right away."The kitchen doors close behind me as I walk in, going straight for the cupboard. I ignore the call of the bathroom door to my right as I take out some cleaning roll, a dust pan, and a brush. It hurts to turn my back on it as I walk back out. Angie catches me before I can leave.
"What's happened now?" She asks. "Dropped something?"
"A customer, in fact," I say to her, frowning. "Dropped a bottle as I left the table."
"Nothing to do with you then?" She asks. I give her a sickly smile and walk out."Awfully sorry," the man says as I walk up to the table. I put the wine in front of him, then bend down to the floor. The pressure on my bladder skyrockets, and it takes some effort to not moan.
"It's alright," I repeat, still lying. "It happens, right?"
"Well quite," the girl says.
"Good thing you'd walked away at least," the man says as I wipe up the wine. The wet touch of wine through the cloth makes me wince again as my bladder begs for relief. I'm almost jealous of the wine bottle and the fact it's now completely empty. I throw the wet tissue into the dustpan and start sweeping up the glass.
"If you'd have been closer it would have spilled on your uniform," the man says. "Might have got some on your....shoes."
It takes some effort, but I manage to not tell him to fuck off. Instead I smile at him and turn to walk away, bringing the dustpan with me."Excuse me!" Someone besides me calls out as I'm walking down the restaurant. It's a middle aged man, waving his plate to me. "I ordered the steak well done - this is very pink," he says, prodding it with his knife. I look at the dustpan in my hand, then back at him. He doesn't flinch.
"My apologies sir," I say to him, offering my hand out to him. He gives me the plate. "I'll bring it back to you well done."Well done? Who the fuck has their steak well done? It's enough to distract me from my bladder for a second, but not long. I push open the kitchen door with one foot, shooting pressure into my bladder again, making me wince. Angie greets me and takes the plate out my hand.
"What's wrong with this?"
"N-not cooked enough," I say to her. I blush at the stutter. "He wanted it well done."
"It is well done."
"Do you want to go and argue with him?" I ask, emptying the dustpan into the bin. She doesn't respond. "Can I go to the toilet now?"
"No, you can go on break."
"But Angie, I-"
"No buts, you should have gone before."
"I'm going to go in my uniform!"
"You're going-" She shouts, turning back to me with a new plate. "To bring this to table eight." I frown at her. She smiles at me. It's no use arguing with her. I don't really have any other choice than to hold it. I don't really have long that I can though.I bring the plate over to table eight. They all give me some gormless looks and glance at each other, trying to figure out who it belonged to. After a painful minute they decide it belongs to the balding man on the end.
"Oh, before you leave," says one of the women on the table. "Could you refill our water?"
Fuck.
"Of course," I say with a smile, taking the empty jug from the table.Filling it up is agony. The water splashes into the jug, swirling around as it fills. Each splash and drip is painful to look at, reminding me of the building pressure inside me, building up like a volcano, ready to erupt in my-
Shit! That felt warm. Please tell me that wasn't what I thought it was.
I shuffle my legs together on the spot, trying to figure out what it was. A quickly cooling feeling between my legs tells me it's what I was dreading.
I leaked.
It's only a little though. Just - just the tiniest of dribbles. I can hold it. Shit! It's coming out - not me, the jug! I've over filled it!
I pull the jug away from the tap and pour some out, trying to ignore the splashing sounds of the water hitting the sink. I cross one leg over the other and pray that no one can see me. I turn around with the jug in both hands, trying to ignore the cooling spot in my tights as I walk back to the table. I place the jug down and-
"Sorry, could I get a refill?"
The balding man at the end of the table raises his empty glass to me. I smile at him and pick up the jug. My aching bladder begs me to put it down, but I mustn't. I bring the jug over to his glass and begin pouring. The splash is almost enough for me to relax on the spot, but I barely maintain my composure, slowly filling the glass. I really hope he doesn't notice me screwing my face up as it pours.
"Thank you very much," he says, waiting for me to stop pouring. I almost flick water into my face as I yank the jug back, thankful that I don't have to hear it spilling out a second longer. He gives me an odd look, but I don't care. I smile weakly at him as I put the jug down. I can't hold it any more though - I need to pee, and I need to pee now. I make my way to the kitchen.My bladder almost gives way as I march into the kitchen at the back. The second I'm out of view of customers I slam my hands between my thighs, rushing to the toilet door.
"Where are you going?" Comes Angie's voice from across the room.
"T-toilet!" I shout back, turning to face her. "I can't hold it!"
"Yes you can." She frowns, walking over to me. She hands me the steak from before. "Take this, you can go after."
"T-thanks!" I moan, relieved just to hear that soon I can pee.I can barely focus on the plate in my hand as I walk out - the pressure from my bladder is just too much. Each step hurts - first as I lift my leg which pushes on my bladder, and second as my foot hits the ground and sends a shock-wave directly through it. With every single step. The short walk to the table might as well be miles for all it feels like. I smile as I reach the table, leaning forward to put the plate down. Another hot spurt in my tights. I can't do this anymore. I feel my eye twitch as I place the steak down - I don't wait for a response as I turn away, almost running back to the bathroom.
"Excuse me!"
FUCK.
I turn around to hear the man from table four. He beckons me over.
"Is our main going to be much longer?" He asks. I go to answer him, but no words come out.
That's when I know I've gone too long.My bladder stops being painful - it goes up a step. I can feel all the built up pressure now, mounting up inside me in an unpleasantly hot wave, building up through my chest. I look down and force myself not to moan. I clamp my legs together, blushing at the thought of them looking at me.
"Is everything...okay?" I hear the woman ask. I can barely bring up my head to look at her - it's as if my bladder is pulling my head in. I bring one leg up the other, trying harder and harder to resist the mounting pressure - the desperate wave that's about to push against me. I can feel myself tearing up.
The pressure keeps building for what feels like hours, all the while this couple is watching my every move. I've never been as embarrassed - but something tells me the worst is yet to come, and it's going to come down my legs.My breathing gets short and fast as every last muscle in my body fights against my bladder - I can't go, not now! Not in front of customers. I just have to...
FUUUUUUCK.
It's back. The warmth between my legs. I felt it come out of me, and now I can feel it slowly trickling down my inner thigh - and there's nothing I can do to stop it. It's just a matter of time now until they can see it running under my skirt. Another powerful wave of desperation sweeps over me, and this time I can't stop a moan. The woman says something, but I can't make it out - all my focus is on stopping my bladder, and it's beginning to fail. The warm trail between my legs begins to pick up speed, now I can feel it coming out of me as I stand on the spot. One last burst of energy (and an embarrassingly loud moan) is all I can muster to halt the tide that's about to burst out of me - and it's not enough.I sigh out heavily, lurching forward as my bladder takes total control. I can hear the hiss as it forces itself to empty into my uniform. The warmth immediately cascades down my legs, splattering onto the ground at my feet. But I've lost the energy to care - right now, the only thing I feel is relief.
And God is it good!All the pressure built up in me is now pouring out in a powerful stream, straight down my legs and soaking into my tights. It floods into my shoes, warming my feet as pee coats them entirely. The puddle beneath me ripples and splashes as pee pours off my legs, flicking hot droplets onto my ankles. The shallow pants from moments ago are replaced by long, drawn out sighs. The world seems to hold still, waiting for my bladder to empty. Watching and staring as urine soaks down my legs, soaking into even my skirt which clings to my wet tights, inviting in more pee and soaking them almost black as it seeps through the material in a round stain that blossoms around my backside. My knees begin to go weak, losing strength almost as quickly as my bladder loses its contents onto the floor below. I grab ahold of the table in front of me for balance. The relief begins to fade away from me as my bladder reaches half empty. The still growing puddle on the wood floor beneath me now engulfs both my feet. I squeeze my toes together and try not to giggle as they squish. I don't quite know why, but I'm getting the growing urge to giggle, even as warm pee continues to splash down my legs.
It feels like hours that I'm stood there before the dripping stops. Stood there, in front of these people - in view of the entire restaurant...wetting myself. I'm almost expecting them to break into applause. I breathe out one last sigh and decide that the only thing I can do now is try to act like it never happened. I force myself off the table and stand unsteadily in front of the couple. I cast them a polite smile.
"Your mains will be ready in just a moment."I'm about to turn away when the woman calls me back.
"You might want to bring some tissues with you."I cast her a look so stern I could see her physically recoil. I quickly turn back to hide the smile from how proud I am of that.
Well Angie didn't really want me taking this to management. Because she knows that she'd be fired. Ideally out of a cannon. So she struck a deal with me; I got to go home early - which was a given - but she also gave me Monday off. And today's Friday. And I have weekends off.
She gave me her tips for the day too, and removed the note about my trainers.
Maybe I should wet myself more often at work.
Big thanks to @Sake for proof reading and to those in my server who shouted at me while I was drawing -
"Come on Claire, what's the plan?"
"It would be useful to have a gun..."
"Right."
"And I've already got the bullets for it."
"How many?"
"Twenty four."
"That should be plenty."
"But he looks pretty tough..."
"Yeah but so do the others."
"What if he hurts us?"
"What if one of the others hurts us?"
"They might not..."
"They might be even bigger?"
"I don't know..."
"Too long, I'm deciding."
"What?"Frankie slaps the lock to the door open and kicks it in. The Police captain rises to his feet, ready to attack. Frankie stands back and readies her wrench for her first swing - Claire hangs back a little, clutching her portafilter.
The undead captain is the first to attack, lunging towards Frankie with all his weight. He lands head first in her chest, lifting her off the ground and throwing her back into the wall - Frankie takes a moment to steady herself before swinging back at the captain, hitting him squarely in the arm. He recoils to the side, giving Claire a chance to attack - she swings her portafilter at the captain's head, knocking him in the chin. The captain staggers with a growl, before swinging back at Claire - missing her face by mere inches. Frankie steps forward, bringing the wrench down onto his head with a crunch.
The captain staggers back again and roars in pain, clutching his now bleeding head.
"That hurt him!" Frankie shouts, readying her wrench for another swing. She swings but the captain catches her arm in his hand and follows up by punching Frankie in the chest, knocking her into the bars of cell.
Claire swings at the policeman again, bouncing the portafilter off his arm seemingly harmlessly. The policeman doesn't even flinch before taking another swing at Frankie and slamming her back into the cell wall with a snarl.
Frankie drops her wrench from the impact of the hit, leaving her defenceless. She flails her arm at the policeman, slapping him in the face - just enough to knock him back, giving her space to move. Claire kicks at the back of the policeman's knee, causing him to buckle over backwards. Frankie kicks him in the chest, knocking him entirely to the floor. She pants and wipes her face, bending down to pick up the wrench. The Policeman kicks wildly at her, hitting her shoulder and knocking her down.
"Pin him!" Frankie shouts, clasping at her shoulder. Claire nods and steps on the Policeman's neck - he snarls back at her with venom in his dull grey eyes. He swipes at Claire's legs, but she manages to keep her balance. Frankie grabs her wrench, and stands back up.
"Step back!" She shouts to Claire, lifting up her wrench. Claire leaps off the policeman, crushing his neck as she does. He gurgles at them, trying to pick himself off the ground. Before he has the chance though, Frankie brings down her wrench, landing a hit directly on the top of his head.
The policeman gurgles again before going quiet. Frankie lifts her wrench and slams it down again into his head with a wet crunch. The policeman stops moving.
"I think...I think he's dead." Claire pants, stepping back and leaning on the wall with one arm.
"Better be sure!" Frankie shouts, slamming the wrench back onto his head. Gore splatters about the room as it hits. Claire covers her eyes as Frankie hits him again and then again with her wrench. When she moves her hand away she sees a bloodied Frankie, breathing heavily and standing over the body of the policeman. Where his head once was is now a grisly mess of skin and bone."Jesus..." Claire groans, looking down at the mess before her,
"Well..." Frankie says, wiping her forehead. "He hit me."
"D'you think he's dead?"
"Want me to hit him again?"
"N-no! I think he's gone!"
"Good...haah!" Frankie pants. "Damn, he hurt me bad...Wanna get his gun?"
"I don't want to touch him."
"Fine." Frankie groans, kneeling down over the body and patting down his waist. Claire looks away, trying not to gag.
"I'll wait outside," she says. "You do you."Frankie flicks open the policeman's holster, takes out his revolver, and stands once more. The cell is gore-splattered, and the toilet is no exception. To think it was bad before there were zombie brains splattering it.
"I'm not even gonna think about using that." Frankie sighs, holding the revolver by the barrel. "Jesus..." She grumbles, walking outside."Here," Frankie says, tossing the gun to Claire. She catches it clumsily.
"That was quick," Claire says, looking at the gun. "Didn't you have to pee?"
"Did you see the state of that toilet when we left? I wouldn't even touch that, let alone sit on it."
"You could stand up?"
"Dude, it is hard enough to pee in overalls as it is."
"You look like you're about to pee in them anyway."
"...Shut up.""Come on, let's get a move on," Frankie says as the two make their way back to the newsagent. She's trying to walk faster but she's clearly bothered by something.
"What's up with you?"
"I have to pee," Frankie says.
"How bad?"
"Like I'm about to piss myself."
"That bad?"
"Yes it's that bad!" Frankie shouts. "Come on, let's go," she adds, hobbling forward.
"Think you can make it to the newsagent?"
"No," Frankie sighs.
"Want to go on the side of the road."
"And squat down bare naked when there's zombies around?"Frankie's hobbling begins to slow as they reach the halfway point of the road. She's clutching herself with one hand as she steps forward, practically limping.
"Claire," Frankie says.
"What's up?"
"I can't hold it - We're stopping here."
"What?"
"I can't....Fuuuuck!"
"What's wrong?"
"I think I'm wetting myself."
"What?"
"Fuck- Yeah, I'm wetting myself!"
"What do you mean?"
"WHAT DO YOU THINK I MEAN!?" She shouts, bending over double and groaning loudly as a dark streak begins to blossom from underneath her backside.
"Why didn't you say something earlier?"
"I DID!"
"I didn't think it was this bad!"
"Well it is! Fuuuuck!" Frankie yelps, staggering on the spot. A few drips fall from between her legs and hit the floor beneath her. Frankie goes to take another step forward but buckles and lands on one leg.
"Frankie?"
"Fuck fuck fuck fuck...help me get these ooooooof!"
"I-"
"Just! Fuck!" Frankie shouts. She's now leaning on one knee, grunting as she tries to move. Her body doesn't want to cooperate though, and she barely manages to lift herself to one foot before falling back on one leg. "I can't hold it!"
"Try to hold it!"
"Claire I swear to Chriiiii-! Oh god, it's coming out!" She moans again, bending over further. "I can't stop it!"
"Frankie?"
"F....Fuck!" Frankie yelps, falling to both knees. She struggles and groans for a moment before going still. Before Claire can ask what's happening, she notices a puddle beginning to emerge from underneath her backside."Fuuuuuuuuck...." Frankie sighs, leaning forward further, giving Claire a complete view of her backside as a dark patch begins to swell over it. Streams of pee begin to fall from off the denim as Frankie loses the battle to stay dry, splattering to the ground between her legs. Her hand clutches hopelessly to her groin as pee begins to flood over it, spilling out from between her fingers. The back of her pants grows darker still as more and more pours out of Frankie's bladder and down her legs, pooling at her knees.
"Gooood...." Frankie moans. "Oh god that's better..."
"Are you gonna be okay?"
"Jesus Claire," Frankie sighs, more relaxed this time. "I'm just wetting myself."
"Think you can stop?"
"No point..." She sighs, dropping her soaked hand to one side, flicking it dry. "I'm already soaked...might as well finish."
"I guess..."
"Shut up."Claire watches Frankie as she sits on the floor, with a puddle spreading beneath her. The only sounds in the street are the splashes of pee hitting the pavement, and Frankie's laboured but relieved breathing. After what seems like a minute and a half, the splashing stops. Claire thinks for a moment as Frankie sits in silence.
"Feeling better?"
"Warmer, for sure." Frankie sighs. "God I needed that..."
"Shall we start moving?"
"I...yeah...let's go." Frankie sighs, lifting herself off the ground. More drops fall from her overalls as she stands. She flicks her legs off until they stop dripping, and then turns to face Claire. "Shall we?"
"Err....yeah?"
"Good."
"Err, if you're done, I kinda have to pee too."
"How badly?"
"N-not that badly. I'm not about to have an accident," Claire says, shifting from foot to foot. After watching Frankie's accident however, she's not so sure any more. She'd been neglecting her own bladder until now, and now she realised quite how full it had gotten."Could be worse, right?" Claire says, trying to cheer Frankie up. Frankie squishes slightly with each step as her sodden boots hit the ground.
"Yeah I suppose." Frankie giggles. "There could be zombies here, or I could have needed to-"
"Frankie!" Claire shouts, stopping her.
"What?"
"Zombies."
"Where?"
"Newsagent."
"Looks like it's worse." Frankie scowls. She looks to the Newsagents, barely a few yards from them both. One of the zombies from inside has taken an interest in the two and is beginning to saunter outside. Claire readies her pistol. Frankie puts her wet hand in front of Claire, stopping her.
"There's not many, save your bullets for later."
"R-right."
The two stand still and stare as the zombie begins to meander toward them purposefully. Another one comes out from within the Newsagent, staring at the two.
"There's more of them, Frankie."
"So there is... Maybe they can smell the pee?"
"What?"
"Well...they've all been hanging around toilets, right?" Frankie says. Claire thinks for a moment before nodding. "I guess they're attracted to the smell?"
"Why do you think that is?"
"It comes from living things maybe?"
"I guess - why didn't you use the toilet before?"
"Dude, did you see it?" Frankie asks. She slaps her wet thigh and smirks at Claire. "I think I made the right choice here."
"I think there's a third zombie coming out the building."
"What should we do? Think we need the gun?"1) - "We need the gun." Claire will fire at the zombies as they come out. Low risk, but will use up bullets.
2) - "We could shoot one or two of the zombies." Claire will fire at some of the zombies, but Frankie will try to bludgeon the others. Middling risk, but uses fewer bullets.
3) - "We won't need the gun." Frankie and Claire will try to fight the zombies in melee. Higher risk, but it won't use up any bullets.- CaptainCranberry , Sashabear , YellowPengu and 2 others
- 5
-
"We should go to the police station. It's not too far a walk down the road, just past the newsagent," Claire says after a moment thinking. "It's the obvious answer."
"Yeah that makes sense." Frankie nods. "Best case, we find police, worst case, we find something we can arm ourselves with."
"Right-" Claire says, looking at the portafilter. "Think I could take something from here, in case we see more zombies on the way there?"
"We're going just down the road, Claire." Frankie points out. "There's got to be something better in the police station any way, don't bother yet."
"Yeah I guess so - What do you think we'll find in the station?"
"Maybe more zombies. Maybe a weapon like a baton or something." Frankie says with a shrug. "Hopefully a toilet."Frankie swings the door open and steps outside,Claire following close behind and clutching her portafilter like her life depends on it. The streets are still mostly empty, but now there appear to be a couple of people sauntering around. They walk sluggishly, with limp arms and slow, heavy steps. These people are a fair distance away, but it's easy to see that they aren't normal people.
"Quiet now," Frankie says, turning to Claire. "Don't want to attract anything."
"N-no, we don't." Claire whimpers, looking up and down the street. "T-the police station should be to the left out of here, past the newsagent."
"That's right." Frankie says. "I don't suppose we have time to stop for a pack of smokes do we?"
"N-no, we don't"
"Oh lighten up would you? End of the world or not, we can still have a laugh right?""Hey! Hey!"
A voice from somewhere above shocks the two girls as they pass the newsagents.
"Who is that?" Frankie asks. Claire shrugs.
"Up here!" Comes the voice again. It's a young man's voice. The two girls look up to see him waving out the window.
"Oh it's you," Frankie says with a smile. "How's things?"
"Not great" He shouts down. " - there's some nutters downstairs trying to get in! They killed Harry, now they want me - I've locked the door but I think they might get through."
"How many of them?" Frankie asks.
"I think there's about five of them!" The man shouts back.
"Five's quite a lot." Frankie turns to Claire. "Think we can handle them?"
"Err-"
"Perhaps not. Hey Gavin!" Frankie calls up to the man in the window. "Me and Claire here are going to the police station - we'll try to bring help!"
"Righto!" The man, Gavin, shouts back.
"You just wait there!"
"I don't really have a choice!"
"Err, Frankie?" Claire says, tugging at her arm. "Someone's looking at us." She points to a disheveled man inside the shop. He's slowly making his way out the door towards them.
"Shit, right." Frankie hisses. "Listen Gav - we've got to go - we'll be back as soon as we can! Keep them distracted!" She shouts, starting to walk away.The zombie attracts the attention of one of his friends on his own way out
"Right!" Gavin gives them a thumbs up out the window."Come on, let's move," Frankie says, breaking into a jog. "Don't want to leave him on his own for too long."
"How do you know him?" Claire asks, hurrying after her.
"Local newsagent - I go there all the time - they've got this drink you can't get anywhere else!"It's a short walk to the station - and a shorter jog. The light's aren't on, but the door's hanging open. There's no movement inside, aside from a desk fan slowly rotating on its own.
"Not a great start." Frankie says, looking through the window. "Think there's someone inside?"
"I...haah, I don't know." Claire says, panting. She's not used to running.
"Want to check?"
"N-not really." Claire answers timidly.
"Tough, let's go."The police station is as empty as it looked from the outside - almost. There's a muffled banging coming from behind a door labelled 'cells', but not on the door itself. Otherwise the only sounds in the room as the girls enter are the quiet whir of the desk-fan and Claire's heavy breathing.
"Well it looks like we aren't getting any help from here." Frankie says, stepping further in. "But there's also no one to stop us rooting around, right?"
"Right." Claire says, looking around. "Are we looking for anything in particular?"
"Well I'm gonna look for the toilet first." Frankie says, spinning on her heel and crossing her legs for effect. "I have to pee to no end."
"And me?"
"Yeah you can go after - but for now see if you can find anything cool."
"Won't the doors be locked?"
"Err, maybe." Frankie pulls on the handle of a door and it swings open with ease. "Apparently not - come on, let's see what there is."Frankie darts through the open door, and then Claire can hear her bump up a wooden staircase somewhere out of sight. Claire thinks for a moment in the silence about what to do. She starts by looking around the entrance room for anything interesting. It's quickly apparent that the only things she can take are either some chairs or the pen that's chained to the desk. She decides to move to the next room.
Taking the door at the back of the room leads Claire into the area where a policeman would usually sit in, behind a glass dividing wall. There's nothing too useful lying around - it's mostly files and personal belongings. A half-empty coffee cup suggests that someone was here recently. Claire goes to feel it, dipping her finger into the coffee. It's lukewarm - someone was here earlier. She looks around again to see if there's anyone still here. Upstairs she can hear Frankie's foot steps, occasionally stopping in place and tapping quickly. Deciding there's nothing in the room however, she decides to open the door at the back. She pushes the handle, but it doesn't budge.
"Dead end." She whispers. She looks to her left, her eyes catching a post it note on the wall. It reads 'Keys in first draw'. The writing is messy and looks rushed, and a bloody fingerprint on the corner makes Claire nervous. She follows its advice though.Sure enough, the drawer slides open and a set of keys jangle as they hit the front. Claire takes the keys out the drawer and over to the doorway. After trying the first two with no success, the third fits, clicks as she twists it, and the door is open. The room inside is nothing too exciting, a simple desk, some papers, and a half-open window - but something catches Claire's attention. Something small and brass on the desk, glistening in the light. Claire steps over to the desk and picks it up, looking at it.
"A bullet." She says out loud, looking over it. It's not massive, but it's certainly more useful than a little coffee tool. She looks down at the desk, seeing a couple more. She walks around the desk, the chair behind it creaking as she takes a seat. She pulls open the two draws. One has a black box, the latches on either side hanging loosely open. The other has a number of more bullets. Claire takes her time to count them - twenty one in total, plus the three on the desk for twenty-four. Beside the box is a sturdy looking wooden baton.
"So inside the box must be..." She says, slowly lifting the lid. "A note?"Inside the box is the padded outline of a revolver, but no revolver inside. Instead there's another bloodied note. Claire picks it up and reads it.
"The captain has the gun." She says, reading the note out loud. The handwriting seems panicked, getting faint toward the end. "I left him in the cell and tool? Took. Took my own gun with me. To whoever reads this, may god help you..."
Claire puts the note down, trembling a little. The note hasn't exactly set her at ease.
"Hey!" Frankie's voice from upstairs cuts Claire's thoughts. "Fuck off!""Frankie!" Claire leaps from the chair with a shout, kicking it backwards. She charges out the room and straight for the stairs, scrambling up them as fast as she can, hearing the sounds of clashing and swearing from Frankie.
"Hey!" Frankie shouts, right as Claire reaches the top of the stairs, just in time to see a pale hand slap at Frankie's chest, tearing at the collar of her shirt. A chunk of fabric is ripped off before Frankie leans back and kicks hard as she can. Claire runs closer, leaning behind her.
"What's going on?"
"Found this fucker in the toilet." Frankie spits. Claire looks over to see a bloodied man staggering to his feet - his eyes almost completely grey. "You take one step closer and you're fuckin' dead." Frankie raises her wrench again, shouting. He steps closer. Frankie brings down her wrench with a sickening wet thwack. The zombie staggers back, but seems to regain his balance for a second. Frankie doesn't want to give him the chance though - she throws her arm upwards, hitting his chest with a thud. He staggers back further, landing onto the toilet, cracking it slightly off the wall. Frankie takes one more swing, this time at his head.
A heavy 'thunk' and the zombie is knocked through the toilet bowl which shatters under the hit. The pipe bursts and sprays the now-very-dead zombie's back with water, throwing the body forward."C-Christ...." Claire mumbles, staring at the body on the ground. His head is in pieces, but the water's washed away most of the viscera.
"Bastard scratched me." Frankie says, panting.
"You don't think you're gonna 'turn', do you?"
"Well I fucking hope not." Frankie says with a smirk. "Keep an eye on me though, if I start getting bitey then-"
"Stop!" Claire shouts. "I don't want to think about that."
"That's fair. Well I found the toilet at least. You wanna go first?"
"I wanna go out of here." Claire says.
"Did you find anything cool at least?" Frankie says, wiping the sides of her wrench against her legs.
"I found bullets." Claire says. "And a note that said someone's taken a gun, but that the captain also has one."
"Think the gun's on this guy?" Frankie asks, pointing.
"Maybe? I'm...I'm not touching him though."
Frankie rolls her eyes.
"He's already dead."
"What if he starts moving?"
"Then I'll clamp his nuts in this." She says, lifting the wrench up.
"I'm serious."
"So am I." Frankie says, walking over to the body. She rests the bottom of the wrench between his legs. "The second he moves then...crnnnch"
Frankie starts to pat down the body. Water's still spraying from the wall, splattering on the floor.
"I thought I had to pee before this." She says, looking up to Claire. "This splashing's killing me."
"Just search him." Claire says, looking away. She can hear her pat against him a few times.
"Nope, nothing."
"So he can't be the guy who left the notes..." Claire says. "So there's someone out there."
"Here's wishing them the best." Frankie says, walking back to Claire. "Now what about that police captain?"
"Said he was in the cell."
"Did it say anything else."
"It said 'God help you'"
"Huh, inspiring." Frankie groans. "Well let's check out this captain.""He should be through here." Claire says, putting a key into the lock of a door labeled 'holding cells'. "Think he'll come with us?"
"Hopefully." Frankie nods. "Unless he's a zombie."
"Well...I guess that'd explain why he's in the cell...."
"So you're not gonna even mention the shirt here?"
"What?"
"Zombie dude ripped the collar." She says, flapping at the loose fabric. "I can pop my titty through it."
"Err...."
"Watch this." She says, flapping it open. "Bloop! Titty."
"Are..."
"Not gonna mention that at all?"
"Err...no?"
"Suit yourself."
"Why aren't you wearing a bra?"
"Do you have any idea how sweaty it gets at the shop?" Frankie asks. "I spend all day working, I don't want some sweat-collector on my chest. It's airier this way."
"But what if something tears your shirt?"
"Well usually that's not something I have to worry about...So you gonna open the door or not?"Claire doesn't say anything, but leans into the door and slowly opens it. A sudden clashing from inside the room causes her to slam it back shut.
"What's in there?" Frankie asks. Claire goes pale and doesn't say anything. "Oh for...Let me go in there."
"Wait -" Claire starts, but Frankie's already barged the door open. She closes her eyes for a moment and can hear rattling and snarling from inside the cell room.
"Oh relax Claire." Frankie groans. "The guy's behind the grate. He can't hurt you." She insists. Claire opens her eyes. Behind the thick Iron bars is a large, built up man. He's about six-foot tall and he's clutching the iron bars of the cell. The cell door has a sliding bar keeping it closed, but it isn't locked - though for now he doesn't seem to be able to unlock it.
"What the fuck is that smell?" Frankie asks, taking a step closer. "Aww, fuck - you want the good news or the bad news?"
"Err...good news?"
"Well, firstly, there's another toilet here." Frankie says. "Also this guy's got the gun on him."
"The gun didn't come first?"
"I am about to piss myself" Frankie insists, wrapping one leg around the other. "The pipe upstairs was too much - I can still hear it fucking splashing!"
"What's the bad news?"
"I think the guy's spent all this time puking into it."
"The gun?"
"No the toilet, genius." Frankie says. "I'm not sitting on that."
"You'd rather wet yourself?"
"Well, no...but it's a close call. At least pissing myself would be warm."
"You sure you can't hold it?"
"I might be able to make it to the newsagent...but it'd be fucking close."
"Should we go now?"
"And leave the gun?"
"You want to risk fighting that guy?"
"Dude, do you have any idea how great a gun would be right now?"
"I mean-"
"I would piss myself if it meant getting a gun. I'll do it right now."
"No! D-don't do that."
"So what's the plan?"1) Kill the captain. He has the gun that the bullets were left for, although he looks quite tough.
1a) Frankie should use the toilet - disgusting as it is.
1b) Frankie can hold it until she reaches the newsagent. There's a toilet there, and with a gun, the zombie inside shouldn't be a problem
2) Ignore the captain and go back to the Newsagent. Claire will take the baton she found before.- PeeGirl20 , Theoneloser , Bismiris and 3 others
- 6
-
"If I went home...It'd be safe..." Claire thinks out loud. "But...noone's at home - I could go to Tescos? There's probably more of these...people...at Tescos. The Mechanics down the road though...Maybe they're doing better?"
Claire thinks to herself for a moment, looking back over to the tied up man wriggling about on the floor, bleeding and snarling.
"Maybe I should call someone." Claire thinks, taking her phone out her pocket. She swipes in her password and opens her contacts. She starts off by trying to call her mum. It goes to an automated response - 'The person you are trying to call can not be reached right now, please try again later'. She tries her dad - only to get the same response.
"What's wrong with this thing?" She asks. A quick look at the top of the screen shows that she's got no connection. No wifi either, and when she tries to connect using her data she gets the same result.
"Huh."Claire picks up the Portafilter and looks around. Aside from the blood splattered on the floor and the man who is also on the floor, nothing seems too out of place. Claire steps outside and locks the door. Wouldn't want anything happening.
"Mechanic." Claire says aloud. "If there's noone there, then at least I can pick something up..."
She turns right outside the cafe and begins walking. The town is still empty, with noone around. A gentle wind flows down the street, flapping her apron around her legs. Aside from the silence, it looks like nothing's happened.
Until Claire gets to the corner. She turns right and begins to walk down further, before noticing a figure outside.
A young teen by the looks of it, stood on the other side of the road."Hey!" Claire shouts. She struggles to think of what to say. "Uhh, you okay?"
The kid turns around to her. Claire recoils when she sees what he's wearing. A dull green hoodie, and a white shirt underneath with the words 'Smeg head', and some plain cargo pants. He's standing at an odd angle with one arm hanging very limply. But the thing that scares Claire the most is what's on his shirt. Not the bit that says 'smeg head', more the blood. The shirt is caked in blood leading up toward his neck, and then his neck itself too is red with blood. All up to his mouth. Claire freezes for a moment, noticing more blood on the kid's hands. And a chunk of meat in one. Claire takes a step back, wishing she'd kept her trap shut. The kid begins walking toward her, his chestnut hair being ruffled in the wind."Not again..." Claire mumbles, readying her portafilter in hand, slowly stepping to one side, inching herself closer to the mechanic. The kid begins to pick up pace, going up from a slow lurch into a brisk walk, one bloodied hand raised toward her, dropping the meat to the floor. Claire brandishes the portafilter in his direction, but he isn't dissuaded. Claire thinks it might be time to run.
She breaks into a sprint down the road, only to trip up immediately on a step jutting out from one of the houses. The kid snarls and begins sprinting too until he's almost on top of her. Claire spins to her back and braces herself for him - he pounces toward her and as he does, Claire kicks her leg upward into his chin. He lands mouth-first onto her work shoe. His weight pushes Claire a good foot back against the pavement, scuffing the back of her jeans. Her leg recoils as far back as it can, her knee almost meeting her own chin - but it works. The boy stumbles and lands on the floor in a heap. He wastes no time however in scrambling to get back up.
Claire rolls back to her front and pushes herself off the ground, just in time for the kid to swipe at her chest. His forearm slams into her breasts and bounces back - Claire staggers back just enough that she manages to avoid being slapped by the kids other hand as it swings after her. As he misses he lurches forward, giving Claire a chance - she slams the handle of the portafilter onto the back of his head and he bows further down. Claire braces herself against the wall and kicks him in the backside, pushing him into the road. He lands with a sharp crack as his teeth make contact with the floor. Claire pants a little as she waits for him to get back up. He pushes himself off the ground, looking upward to Claire, now with cracked teeth and a furious glare in his dull grey eyes. Claire yelps at the sight and bolts down the road. She can hear the kid screeching as he charges after her.
"Hey you!" Shouts a girl coming out the mechanics. "Get in here!". Claire nods and keeps running toward her. She's about three meters from the front door when something big and heavy lands on her back, pushing her to the ground. She lands with her hands in front of her, dropping the portafilter. The other girl runs over and kicks at the kid, sending him back onto the road. She puts out a gloved hand for Claire, which she thankfully grabs. As she reaches her feet she feels a hand grab her ankle - and fear takes over. She screams and tries to kick it off, feeling her groin grow suddenly warm as her bladder gives way for just a second. The sight of the other girl stamping on his wrist quickly reassures her enough to halt the flow.
"Come on! Inside!"The girl practically pushes Claire inside the mechanics, twirling around and picking up a wrench from the side. She twirls it around in one hand, holding the other out to block Claire from the entrance.
"Go on, fuck off!" Shouts the girl. The teen pays no attention as he reaches his feet. He stands unsteadily in the road for a second before he throws himself forward, arms outstretched and snarling. Claire can't force herself to look away as the mechanic girl raises up the wrench and brings it down.The sound of the tool crushing the boys head is sickening. Somewhere between a crack and a splatter, then a quick thump as the boy hits the ground, inches from the mechanics feet.
The two stand in silence for a second as blood spills from his head onto the carpet.
"Sorry, we're closed pal." The girl says coldly. She kicks at the kids shoulders, pushing him outside the door. Claire looks away from his mangled head, dry-heaving from the image. The girl notices this and kicks him a bit further out of view, before walking back into the shop."So who the fuck was he?" The girl asks. "What did he want?"
"I...I have no idea." Claire pants. "He just...attacked me!"
"Fuck was up with him?" The girl asks again, looking out through the glass window. "Like an animal. Won't be doing that again though, right?" She says with a chuckle. She puts out her right hand to greet Claire. "I'm Frankie, by the way. Apprentice here at Fixin' things."
"I'm Claire." Claire says extending her own arm. "I work over at Cost's coffee."
"Well please to meet you!" Frankie says, giving her a violently-firm hand shake. "The boss is in the toilet at the moment - don't let him out." She says. Claire giggles.
"That's not a joke, Claire - dude's gone mad. He tried to hit me earlier, so I shoved him in and shut the door. I'd lock it but he doesn't seem to be figure out how to pull the door. He just kinda slaps at it - here, I'll show you."
"No, I-I'm oka-" Claire starts - but Frankie isn't listening. She pushes the door open and points out the man huddled by the toilet. He snaps his head over in their direction and snarls. Frankie quickly closes the door again. They can hear him slam into the door and pound at it a few times."Any idea what's going on?" Claire asks. Frankie looks at her for a moment.
"Well my boss went nuts, I tried calling the police, I suppose you spilled tea down yourself" She says pointing the wrench to Claire's apron "and then you came running down with that chap after you." Frankie tells her. "Other than that, not too much." Claire goes bright red as she looks down at the wet patch on her apron.
"That's....not tea."
"Hey, don't feel too bad." Frankie says with a smile. "How bad is it?" She asks. Claire lifts up the apron to reveal a dark streak down to her knee on one leg.
"I was...scared and-"
"Don't sweat it dude." Frankie says. Claire drops her apron back over her legs. "You had some bloodied kid trying to kill you - I imagine a lot of people would have done the same."
"So what should we do?" Claire asks, swiftly changing the subject.
"Err, I can call the police again?" Frankie says, taking her phone out her pocket. "And then I want to try finding a toilet. That one's occupied." She says, pointing her wrench to the door again.
"Yeah, that sounds smart.""Well, looks like I can't get through." Frankie says with an annoyed look.
"Wanna try again?"
"Claire. I tried three times just now." Frankie sighs, sliding the phone back into her pocket. "And about six before you arrived. All I've got is voicemail and desperate."
"I'd be desperate if I couldn't get through." Claire admits.
"Oh I meant for the toilet." Frankie clarifies. "Gary's meant to arrive at eight, so I figured I'd wait but..." Frankie takes out her phone again. "Eight was almost half an hour ago. I don't think he's coming."
"So what do you think we should do?" Claire asks.
"Well police is probably a good idea. Or we could look around for someone else?"
"What if everyone else is like...those two?"
"Like zombies?" Frankie asks.The word 'zombie' rings in Claire's ears for a while. She'd seen the movies, seen the TV series, and she'd played plenty of the games. But there's obviously something different when the local hobo tries to kill you, and when you're shouting at your friend playing Coach to stop T-bagging the dead Tank. She didn't like admitting it, but Frankie might be right - these people might be zombies.
"You alright there buddy?" Frankie asks.
"I - uhh, yeah." Claire says. "Just...thinking."
"Well don't think too long, I've got to find a toilet, and I don't think going alone is too safe."
"R-right." Claire says. She could really use a toilet too - though not quite as badly as before, as a cold streak down her leg is making her very aware."So what's the plan?" Frankie asks.
"I, ummm..."1) - "We should go to the police station. It's not too far a walk down the road, just past the newsagent."
2) - "Maybe we should go to Tescos? A place like that might have someone still alive. I know for fact they have toilets...but then again, a place like that might be full of zombies..."
3) - "Maybe the town hall? Although a place that big, and in the center of town - it could be swarming..."
-
"Get back!" Claire shouts as the man stumbles closer to her.
Claire shuffles her way backwards, feeling for the counter so she can get behind it. The man keeps shambling in her direction, putting an arm out as if to reach her.
"I mean it! Get back!" She shouts. The man doesn't seem to be listening. She has to do something. She turns around for a second, seeing the espresso machine, with the coffee spoon still in it's place from where she'd made her own coffee. A Portafilter, she'd been told it was called during training a week before now, but the name is the least of her concerns - she twists it harshly out of place, raising it up in the air and brandishing it at the man, tossing out wet-coffee grounds as she does. Really, she should have taken it out of place once she was done because the coffee dries up - but the shambling man in front of her is the bigger issue right now."Get back! I-if you touch me again, I will hit you!" She shouts, trying to sound intimidating but more whimpering. The man seems to hesitate for a second before lumbering forward again, arms outstretched.
"I mean it!" Claire shouts. He steps forward again. "D-don't touch me!"It's clear the man isn't listening as he takes another swipe at her - which she backs away from by an inch.
"One more time! I'll d-do it!" She shouts - the man swings at her again, catching her forearm. In anger, Claire swings the spoon forward, smacking it into his shoulder.
"S-see! Go away!"
He takes another swipe at her, slapping her across the face. She looks straight back at him and brings the spoon around, raising it behind her. In anger, she brings it back down to his head, clonking him squarely above his forehead. The man wavers for a moment, before falling to his knees. Claire looks at him for a moment, then to the spoon - now stained with dark brown blood around the notch.
"O-oh god..." She whimpers, looking back up to the man. He puts one hand on the counter, forcing himself off the ground with a rough groan.
"S-stop! Stop!" she shouts - but he doesn't. He froths at the mouth and swings at her again with a growl.
Claire pushes him back and slaps the spoon against his head again. He looks as if he's about to shrug it off before Claire thinks to slam it against his head again. It bounces off his head with a dull thud, and the man collapses against the counter. Claire gives him a kick in the ribs and he collapses to the floor, groaning softly and dripping blood from his forehead."Oh god, oh god....Oh god!" Claire stutters, stood over the body. "I killed him....I killed him...."
She doesn't quite know what to do, shuffling foot to foot, staring at his matted hair. There's something almost peaceful about him as he lies there. His eyes no longer twitch around, his face seems practically serene, save a single stream of blood running down his forehead.
"I....I'm so sorry..." she begins, taking a step toward him. "He's....dead...."
The man lifts his arms again, pushing against the floor and snarling.
"Are...you okay?" She asks. The man climbs back to his feet. "You're...not hurt? I-I-I have a first aid kit in the back if-"
Claire's cut off as the man's hand slams into her cheek - and this time she loses any feeling of remorse for the man - she pounds the spoon into his head, again and again. She kicks him to the ground and sits on his chest, pummeling the tool against his head. The shock runs through the handle and into her hand, each time getting softer and softer until a rather sickening crack. For a moment Claire thinks she's broken the tool. Until she looks at it."Bastard." She spits, standing up. She rubs her hand over her aching cheek - it wasn't too much of a hit, but it really shocked her in the moment. She looks back to the body on the floor, tossing the spoon onto the counter.
"Can't believe I just...No. It's fine. He was....he was going to kill me. I did - I did the only thing I could. I'm jus-justified, here...he was going to kill me." She stammers. "I'm...I've got to wait for Pete. Pete will know what to do - He...he always knows. Pete'll help. I just...need to wait for him. He should be here though..."Claire picks up the portafilter and steps away from the counter, giving the body a kick for good measure. She takes her seat back where she was earlier and drinks the rest of her latte. She looks over again to the counter, now with a dead man's head poking from behind the wall. What if he gets up again? Claire puts her cup down and walks over to him. He's lying there still, forehead dented and lifeless. A strange feeling runs over Claire. She's killed him. But she's worried he'll get up again. Is he really dead? Claire puts her fingers over his neck to feel for a pulse. Nothing. She tries his wrist - still nothing. But...Claire isn't settled. She takes a spare apron from under the counter and ties his legs up, then does the same for his arms with a second.
"There." She says, standing up again. "Now he won't be getting up again." She adds, looking down at him. She looks around the shop and checks her phone for the time. Currently 7.30. "Pete should really be here by now - he's never this l-"
She's cut off by growls from the man beneath her - he's moving again!
"What....the fuck..." She mumbles, stepping back and dropping her phone. "You...You should be dead! Stay dead!"
Claire steps back further. She stands and watches as the man writhes about, eyes glazed over and frothing at the mouth as he snarls.
"What...what is going on?" She asks. "I...Am I dreaming? This is a nightmare, right?"
She kicks herself in the leg. She doesn't wake up obviously - this isn't a dream.
"Wait for Pete." She tells herself. "He'll figure this out."Claire takes a seat again, leaving the man to snarl on the floor. Pete won't be too long now...
An hour has passed. Pete hasn't arrived. The man hasn't stopped snarling - but he hasn't gotten out of the apron-knots either. Claire can thank her days as a girl-scout for that. She was always among the first to get her badges - knotting, fire starting - she remembered a fair bit. Going out camping with her friends, running through the woods. Waking up early and having to see a camp guide because she needed her sleeping bag changed...Actually on that note - there's a familiar urge building up in Claire now.
Claire's coffees have gone through her quite quickly, and now they're hitting her bladder. Time for a toilet break.
Claire stands up from her table and makes her way to the bathroom. She pushes the door open to find -
Pete.
He's stood in front of the sink, and he turns to Claire as the door opens. He has the same glazed look in his eyes as the man had. Claire promptly shuts the door.
"Pete?" Claire asks. "Are you okay in there?"
There's no answer.
"P-Pete?"
There's a slam against the door.
"Oh....god..." Claire says, stepping back. Pete continues to hit the door.
"I need...I need to leave..." Claire says, clutching the portafilter. "Where...where can I go?"
She thinks for a moment..."I could go to..."
1) "The mechanic is just down the road...there has to be someone there, right? If nothing else, I can find something useful"
2) "Tescos - the supermarket - maybe I can find someone who can help."
3) "Home? I guess I could call someone..."(From now on, I'll be keeping stats for characters under the main story, so you can keep track on how they're doing.)
- Anubis , Darkejes22 , DsGSilver and 1 other
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Another morning.
The Beeping of an alarm wakes Claire up with a jolt. She reaches over to the phone sitting at the edge of the mattress, picking it up and hitting the button to make it stop. She sighs as she realises what's happened.
Claire sits up in bed, throwing the covers off her legs and yawning. Looking down, she's greeted by the usual sight - pink pyjama bottoms, her fluffy white socks, and a sight that never fails to annoy her - a pale yellow stain on the bed sheets, surrounding her backside like a warm halo. And it is still warm - she's been woke up only moments after finishing her accident.
"Again?" Claire groans. She pulls at the damp pink fabric now clinging to her thigh. "I was hoping I'd grow out of this..." She jokes to herself, rolling her eyes and kicking her legs over the side of her wet mattress. She gave up the hope of growing out of it when she was nineteen, a good four years ago now.
"I'd better get to cleaning up..." She groans to herself, sliding the wet pyjamas down her legs and letting them drop at her feet, recoiling as the cold morning air kisses her damp bare legs.The kettle wails as the water hits the boil. Claire picks it off the stand and pours it into her tea cup, looking away as the steam flows upward toward her face. Her hair, still wet from the shower, clings to her face as she takes her tea over to the table. She takes a seat at the table and bites into her toast.
Another usual morning. She checks her phone for the time.
Six thirty-four. She's got enough time to eat her toast before she has to leave for work. That makes a change. She usually sleeps through her first alarm and her morning pee, only waking up when either her second alarm goes off, or when the mattress gets so cold it wakes her up. This is usually followed by a rushed shower and a dash out the house before she practically sprints to work. It makes a nice change to wake up at a sensible time. It'd be a nicer change if she'd woke up dry, but you can't have everything. She drinks the rest of her tea before finishing her toast leisurely.The walk to work seems unusually quiet. Bridgewater was always a quiet town, but there was usually someone Claire would see in the morning. The postman, the milkman, the drunk man with the beard that'd usually have passed out in the gutter outside the pub - but today there's no-one. Was Claire really this early? She checks her phone again for the time - 7:16. She's not that early. Maybe it's daylight saving? It's about this time - late October. Maybe no-one noticed.
The door to the cafe shuts behind her, hitting the chimes again as they close.
"Morning!" Claire says, walking in and heading over to the store room. "Nice out there today Pete!" She says, picking up an apron and slinging it over her shoulder.
"Pete?" She shouts again. "You in?"
When there's no reply, Claire shrugs. She walks over to the espresso machine. She hits the button on the grinder, reaches over the the milk fridge, and begins to make herself a latte.
"Could really use one of these at home." Claire says, holding the jug under the steam wand. She says it loud enough that someone might hear her, hoping Pete will show up from wherever he's hiding. She looks around. Nothing. She shrugs again. "I'll make you one too, if you want." Again, there's no response. She pours the milk onto her espresso, poking her tongue out as she tries to make a design. She flicks the jug forward slightly, leaving a little heart on the top of her latte. She smiles, proud of herself, and makes her way over to the tables, setting down the latte on the table and taking a seat for herself.Claire takes a drink from her cup, putting about half of it down almost at once. She almost immediately begins to feel better as the caffeine enters her body. She smiles again as she puts the cup back on the table, swirling it around a little, slightly disturbing the heart on top of her coffee. She picks it up again, but the chimes to the door stop her before she takes another drink.
"Morning Pete." She says. "Bit late aren't-" She says, looking up. "Hey, you aren't Pete."The man at the door stumbles a little, holding onto it for balance - clearly drunk. He looks familiar too. Scraggly beard, stained over-coat. At this time in the morning he's usually curled up outside the pub in the gutter.
"Oh, it's you." She says, putting on a polite smile. "I'm afraid we aren't open yet, Pete's not showed up." She say, taking another mouthful of her coffee.
"Huurargww." He growls.
"Yeah, we'd usually be open now, but...No idea where Pete is." she tells him. He looks toward her, but his eyes don't focus. "Come on, you've got to leave." She says, before finishing her latte and standing up. She walks over to him, looking at him with what she assumes is a look of authority. His eyes seem...pale. She hesitates to take another step forward, practically flinching as he lurches himself forward by a step.
"Y-you - Ahem! You have to leave." Claire says, standing her ground and trying to sound intimidating. A foul smell comes off of him, making her more nervous still. "G-get out."
He growls back at her."N-now!" She says, putting out one hand toward the door. He stumbles a little as he stares at her open palm. "You need to leave!"
He slowly looks toward Claire's face again, now close enough for Claire to see him even more clearly. His eyes don't just look pale - they're grey and empty, like he doesn't know where he is. She barely has time to notice this however, before he swings his arm at hers.
"Hey!" Claire shouts, hopping backwards. "What do you think you're doing!" She shouts. The drunk takes another lunge at her, slamming his wrist against her left arm.
"Stop that!" Claire shouts, slowly stepping backwards. She breathes quickly as adrenaline runs through her - this is the last way she wants to start her shift. "Get out, right now!"
"Hrauuur..." He growls again, stumbling forward. One step, then another before he lunges himself at her, grabbing her by the shoulders and biting at her collar.
"Hey!" Claire shouts, falling back against the counter, barely staying on her feet. "Get the hell off me!" She shouts, pushing at his shoulders while he tries to bite hers.
His face, up close to hers, is even uglier - she can make out every wrinkle, the dried stains under his mouth, and the smell is something else. Claire picks one foot off the ground and pushes it squarely into the man's thigh, kicking forward and throwing him off her.
He stumbles backward for a moment before falling onto his backside.
Claire darts behind the counter, picking something up to threaten him with.What does she pick up?
A) The espresso spoon still in the coffee machine. It has a comfy grip, and the basket is fairly weighted, almost like a hammer. It's short, but it feels quite sturdy and easy to handle.
B) A broom. It's a long wooden broom, worn down toward the base. It's quite long, although that might make it awkward to swing around the shop.
C) A fork. Underneath the counter there are a handful of dining forks. They're sharp and pointed, as one would expect. However they're quite small and very light.- Anubis , Sake , CaptainCranberry and 3 others
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"Come on! Get out!"
"Would you just wait?" Scarlett says from inside the cubicle.
"I can't wait!" Beth shouts back, stamping her bare feet against the tiled floor. "I need to get in!"
"Tough." Scarlett says back, a hint of amusement on her voice.
"H-hurry!"Beth's stood outside the cubicle, hopping back and forth from foot to foot. Neither girl has been in the pool itself yet, but it feels to Beth like she's carrying one inside her right now - and the only thing stopping her from letting it go is Scarlett - who's sat about three feet away from her behind the wooden door. She can see her feet under the door and a couple of suspect droplets of...something...that suggests she didn't reach the toilet in time.
"Oh, c-come on Scarlett!" Beth moans, leaning against the wall. "I can't hold it!"
"I only just sat down!" Scarlett says back. "I haven't even..." She says, pausing. A dull hiss and a steady stream of splashes come from behind the door. "Haah! I've only just started going!"
"N-now you're just teasing me!" Beth shouts, pressing her head into the door. She feels something warm against her skin - something warm, fresh, and something that signifies that she doesn't have long until the dam bursts."Come oooon!" Beth moans as she tries to ignore the pulsing feeling in her groin. The sound of Scarlett behind the door is almost unbearable - the hissing, the splashing, and the soft moans that Scarlett's quite generously and deliberately giving out.
"Sooo good!" Scarlett says from behind the door. "Phew, I really needed that, Beth!"
"S-shut up!"
"Oh god it's good though - I swear, you could see it bulging out a little before I got in!"
"S-Scarlett!"
"Gonna be real with you Beth. My swimsuit isn't totally dry - I came this close to-"
"S-Stop! Just get a move on!" Beth shouts, Looking down at herself, trying her best not to leak. "Come on, I'm about to wet my suit!"Looking down at herself, Beth can see just how mad she's got to go. She can't see the wet spot - although she can feel it - because there's something in the way. Beth can only imagine it's her bladder, so full she can see it - she can certainly feel it, like a rock beneath her ribs. Another feeling of warmth blossoms around her groin as another leak makes its way out.
"Why aren't you using the other toilet anyway?" Scarlett says from behind the door. The splashing sounds begin to slow down to a last few drips. Scarlett lets out one last exaggerated sigh. "Oh, so good!"
"O-out of order - Let me in!"
"I've only just stopped peeing, give me a moment!"
"H-hurry!"
"How do you know I don't need to poop?"
"SCARLETT!!"
"Look I said you should pee in the pool."
"I-I'm not gonna - Hnng!"
"What?"Beth doesn't respond - she can't - at that moment, the only things she can focus on are her bladder, and getting it over a toilet, before it empties down her legs. She's already had two small warnings, and now it feels like it's about to take control. She can't hear anything coming from behind the door now though, other than Scarlett's breathing. She bangs her fist against the door and then....
"Do you mind?" Scarlett asks. "I won't be a momen - Oh my god!"
It happened - With a huge wave of pressure from her bladder, Beth couldn't hold back. The ocean inside her erupted in a warm flood in her groin, before bursting from her swimsuit and falling to the floor with a loud splatter. Rather than fight back though, Beth decides - or more rather, her body decides - to push with her bladder. Pressing her face into the door, Beth feels her whole body tense up as she forcefully relieves herself into her swimsuit, hissing furiously as it jets out of her. She lets out a moan of 'Nnnn-haaaaah!' as relief floods up her body in a warm shiver to match the warm streams now pouring down her legs, wrapping around her thighs, calves and ankles, before falling into small puddles beneath her feet.
Almost double the size of the puddles under each foot, there's a rapidly growing third puddle directly beneath her, with fresh urine falling into it straight from the source - filtered by the swimsuit. The pale yellow stream glistens in the electric light as it falls, soaking the floor and splashing her ankles as it does. Beth arches her back as everything floods out of her, as the feeling of relief grows stronger as the full feeling she'd had moments ago grows weaker, pouring out of her."Can you get off the door?" Comes a voice from behind the cubicle. "I'm trying to get out."
"S-shut up." Beth spits back, pressing her head forward as she relieves herself. "I'm peeing."
"Yeah I can see." Scarlett says. "The puddles coming through the door."
"Haaah..."
"You, ah, you gonna stop any time soon? It's almost at my feet."
"T-tough." Beth mumbles, half giggling. "You did this to me." she moans.
"Hey!"
Beth doesn't respond though - and she doesn't move. She's not even halfway done - she'd been holding back an ocean, and it was going to take some time to get it all out, even in spite of Scarlett's protests.The initial waves of releif have died off now, but the warmth running down her legs certainly hasn't. Reality becomes to come back to a now very relieved Beth. She stands up straight again, leaning off the door, and letting herself finish in her swimsuit. She laughs limply as Scarlett opens the cubicle door.
"You can stop now, Beth." Scarlett says. "Sit down and let the rest out."
"N-no point." Beth says, trying to stop grinning. "This far in, I might as well finish having this accident."
"Wow. You really had to go." Scarlett says, trying to figure out how to get out the cubicle without getting her feet wet. As she feels her toes grow warm, she decides it's best to step through it. "Couldn't you have done this somewhere away from the door?" She says, stepping in a very warm puddle as she moves away. She flicks her foot dry as she reaches dry ground."I can't believe you made me wet my suit." Beth says, turning to Scarlett with a slightly annoyed smirk.
"I can't believe you're still going."
"Hm?"
"Wanna get a move on?" Scarlett says, cocking her hip. "I kinda wanna go swimming today."
"Oh, yeah." Beth giggles. She clenches her body and the hissing grows louder and harsher for a couple seconds as she forces her bladder to empty now. Scarlett can see Beth's swimsuit move with the increased force from Beth's stream as it crashes out of her. It takes a couple seconds, but with the increased pressure, Beth finally finishes."Done?" Scarlett asks.
Beth nods.
"Feeling better?" Scarlett asks.
Beth nods.
"Let's go then."
Beth nods again and pulls at the crotch of her swimsuit, letting it slap back against her, shaking off some of the drops. The fall into the still warm puddle beneath Beth's feet. "Let's get in the pool." -
Hey! Remember you guys said I should try wetting upside down or something like that?
Well I did it!It was great fun tbh!
I'm so used to it running down my legs when I do this - it's kinda weird having it going all down my chest!
Wrapped around my neck too which felt great! My top's soaked, my back's soaked...I think I might do this more often!Anyway, here's that pic - I'll answer the rest of the questions next time!
I'm still holding by the way. Somehow. Don't question it.
See you soon!
- Sake , The Dark Wolf and pickle313
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I knew I had to go for ages - I really should have went on my break - but I thought there'd be time later.
But as my luck would have it, this was one of the busiest days I've ever worked.
Customer after customer, no time to get away for even a second.
My team leader was busy next to me, serving as quickly as she could, customer after customer, as my aching bladder got fuller and fuller - tighter and tighter with each passing minute.
But I couldn't show it - I had to smile, stand straight and serve as best I could. But that wasn't the hard part.
Coffee. That was the hard part.
Watching each espresso drip into each cup, dripping and splashing.
Pouring milk into each jug, each time - watching the bottles as they emptied, and feeling a pang of jealousy each time one emptied out entirely.
Because my poor bladder meanwhile was begging for release.As time went on, it got harder and harder to hold - but the customers didn't let up.
I was stuck to the till, not even a minute away from the bathroom. But I couldn't go. I couldn't leave my team leader on her own.
So I put on a brave face, and I keep serving, ignoring the desperate calls from my bladder, begging to be let go.It felt like hours - customer after customer.
No time to escape, no time to duck behind the counter - and all the mean time, I had to keep a straight face.But eventually, the queue died down - slowly but surely, until there was one customer remained.
But my bladder wasn't going to wait for one customer.
I stood on the spot, aching and trying my best to hide my need to go, sweat running down my face.
Wave after desperate wave from my bladder until...
A leak.
I had to respond - I felt my body jolt on the spot as my bladder began to give way - there was nothing I could do!
But it wouldn't be long now...I just had to serve this last customer and then...Four more walked in.
It was hopeless, and I knew it.
And as another hot jet hit the insides of my thighs, It was safe to say my bladder knew it too.
I couldn't grab myself - I couldn't make a scene and embarrass myself or my team leader.
So what could I do?As the next customer stepped to the till, I relaxed.
I felt my body thank me immediately with a hot shiver of relief up my spine.
At the same time, I was immediately aware of a hot burst in my underwear as my bladder began to drain itself into them.My face went bright red as I do my best to look natural as I ask the customer what I can get for him. He casts me an odd look as I blush, but he's nonetheless completely unaware that I'm currently emptying my bladder as we talk.
I hope.
From my side I can hear it splash onto the floor, and I can just about make out a hiss as it floods out of me.
I can certainly feel the warmth as it blossoms out of my groin, spreads down my thighs, calves, and eventually shoes, where it soaks in.
I have to stand still now - every single movement makes my shoes squish as warm pee saturates them.
All the while, I'm trying to keep a casual smile as I serve the gentleman on the other side of the till.From the corner of my eye, I can see that my team leader has noticed - she's gone red herself as she watches me having my accident.
I continue to serve the customer, directing him to enter his card into our machine, enter his PIN, and wait for the receipt. As I bend down to pick the receipt out the machine I take a look at the damage - the puddle beneath me - my soaked jeans, and my once-white shoes. I feel myself go even redder as I stand back up, handing the receipt back to the customer. He smiles at me and walks out.
And as if fate itself was mocking me personally, the queue is gone.
I'm left stood alone at the till, still emptying my bladder, as my team leader watches.
It barely lasted a minute, but it felt like an hour as I was stood there, waiting for my bladder to finally finish.
I stand in the puddle for a moment, letting my jeans cool down, and letting my face grow even redder, knowing that I'll eventually have to turn around and look my team leader in the eyes.
- bladderboi , EmesiraGimil , YellowZoneMX and 17 others
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Hey hey guys! I'm back!
Sorry I took so long.
I have my reasons.
No I won't tell you what it was. Use your imagination!Let's answer some questions!
First question:
What's my favourite pokemon?
Err...Hmm.
I quite like Gengar. He's a pretty cool guy.
I am also furious that pokemon is removing mega evos from the next game! I BASED MY TEAMS AROUND MEGAS GAME FREAK, WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME.
...
Ahem.Next question!
Is there a wetting I enjoyed more than the rest?
Hmm...Oh! Yes!
Oh man, I remember this one!
Right, picture the scene.
About a year ago now, I was in town one day - just hanging out with some friends - nothing too fancy.
We'd gone about, had lunch, nothing too interesting.
And as we're walking around I begin noticing a growing urge to, err, go.
So we look around for a toilet, but all we find are these grimy public toilets - you know the type, right? More on the floor and walls than in the toilet.
At this point I'm getting a bit excited, right? I've got this growing urge to go, and there's nowhere to go, and it's just like one of the stories from this site!
We keep walking around, and we can't find any toilets that aren't like...repulsive.
Actually that's not quite true, I did notice one that my friends didn't so we accidentally walk past it. Oops.
Obviously I was out with friends, so I hadn't really planned on having an accident. Because I was worried they'd keep going on about it.
Takes us a good half an hour to find somewhere that isn't filthy. But eventually, we find a public toilet - and not a moment too soon! The second I read the sign I can feel myself begin to leak - I should mention, at this point I was walking down the streets with both hands between my legs. Like I was ready to BURST.
We run to the toilet - or rather, my friends run, I sort of hobble as fast as I can, which isn't really too fast in my condition.
So the entrance to the toilet was behind this little block - so we have to walk around.
And there's a reason why.
It was a pay toilet.
You know the thing, right? You need to pay to get in.
YOU NEED TO PAY MONEY TO PERFORM A BASIC BODILY FUNCTION.
By this point though, I can already feel my bladder giving way - there are like these tiny hot streaks going down my thighs - I don't know if it showed, because I was staring at these gates in front of me.
You know how much they wanted to let me pee?
Fifty pence.
FIFTY PENCE.
TO LET ME PEE.
Bastards.
But I don't have much of a choice here - I'm trying my absolute best to not wet myself in front of my friends, and I'm shaking like a leaf on a windy day.
Which means I can't exactly calmly put my hand in my pocket and pull out a coin.
Rather, what I do, is slap my hand down my thigh a couple times, trying to aim for the pocket, but twitching enough that I miss - I did snag my thumb once though, that hurt.
By this point, I am bursting. I had my first big leak, which sent me bending over, leaning against the gate, making one last attempt to get my hand into my pocket - but lucky me, I sodding miss - and I don't have the effort to bring my hand back up.
So....I accepted my fate!
Well, my body made that decision for me, really.
I felt my entire body tense up for a second, then my bladder kind of took over - the first thing I felt really was me forcing out pee as hard as I could, in my jeans, leaning on the machine, in front of my friends, and in front of about 3 other girls who were trying to get in or out of the toilet.
And I'm just stood there, on the spot, peeing myself cross-eyed - I had no control over this now.
But something about knowing that I'd actually lost control of myself, and about knowing that people saw it...I can't describe it! It was amazing!
Of course my friends bring this up all the time now. Little do they know that I get off to it.
D-don't tell them, will you?
Next question!
Have I ever tried holding when I'm naked.
Well, I don't usually hold, I'll be honest.
But I usually really need to pee when I wake up - if I haven't gone in my sleep, I mean.
And one morning I decided, rather than just letting out in bed, or getting up and using the toilet, I'd get a glass of water from the bathroom and see how far I could go.
Err, not very. That was the answer.
I think I wet the bed in about half an hour.
Have I ever pee'd through my fly?
Ha! Plenty of times!
Well, it's more like wetting myself with my flies open, which is like - I get to show myself off, and I get to wet myself!
I haven't done this in public though - I'd be way to shy to do that.
Well, I haven't done it yet. Maybe if I can work up courage.
Anyway, the most recent time was to get back at Lucy.
So a while back, she tied me up until I wet myself, so I figured I'd get her back.
Lucy grows these little Bonsai trees...So one day I decide to water them!
S-she caught me when I was leaving her room...because my shorts were soaked and I was giggling.
Have I ever tried wetting myself upside down?
No...not yet...but now I will.
At some point soon - I'll try to get Rolo to get a full colour thing out - that sounds really neat.Do my wings work?
I mean...sort of?
They can get me off the ground for a little bit, not too much. Still useful things to have!And if I was a Naga, would I miss wetting pants?
...I had not thought of this.
I think though it'd be more like always peeing on my body? And I suppose I could wear a tube like thing, or...nah, that's silly.
Can I change my answer to a spider-girl?
Plenty of legs!Next question!
Do I have a favourite Disney movie?
Alright, so I was going to say the long ones, but I'm pretty sure that would mean the more recent Star wars movies.
So that's outta the bag.
Moana was pretty cool though - I cosplayed as her once!
I'd like to use this moment to complain about Star Wars episode eight though - You know the bit where Kylo tells Rey they could rule together, with no more sith and no more Rebellion?
That bit got me so excited!
I thought they'd do this super cool thing, where they'd pair up as a neutral team, or a third party, and it'd take Star Wars away from the whole good vs evil thing that it's been so far, which could have been really interesting! I WAS SO EXCITED!
Then Rey just goes 'ha ha no fuck you mr Kylo' and....Ughh...
It could have been so cool!
Alright, back on topic...Next question - How many people are in my family?
Lots.
I'm sure you'll get to meet them in due time!Next one!
Has anyone even been as far as...err, decided to use...even...go...
What?
Look, I'm desperate enough as it is right now! I've downed two of those big cans of drink - I'm trying to focus on answering questions and hold!
My brain can't take this!
On that note actually - quick update on how I'm doing right now:
I really gotta go!
I've still got two cans left...I don't think I'll be able to finish the last one before I'm empty again....
What's my maximum bladder capacity?
Hmm, I'm not too sure...
It's not like tiny, but it fills up super quickly (Because I drink like water's going out of fashion)
But I've never like, measured how much it holds.
I suppose I could find out for you sometime.And then, how bad do I usually need to go before I wet myself.
I like how you didn't say 'have an accident', because nine times out of ten it isn't an accident.
Err, I guess usually I wait until I'm fairly desperate. I don't have the patience to regularly hold until I burst, as good as it feels!
And then most mornings I've already gone when I wake up, so I don't know how desperate I was. If I dream though, I usually feel pretty desperate in the dream.
And boy oh boy do I have a few dreams I could tell you about....Sake then asks - well, I guess says - that he heard somewhere that my sister tied me up....
Yeah, ha, there's been one or two times...
Have I ever been tied up in a bed like it?
W-well, since you ask!
Remember how I said that I thought it'd be funny to pee in Lucy's Bonsai tree? And how she saw me leaving them?
Well, about a week afterwards, she kinda got me back for it.
Oh boy, story time.Again, start of the story is kinda boring - I was just chilling about the house, nothing too cool.
I had to pee, and I was debating having an 'accident', but like, Lucy was in the house. And I didn't want to hold if I wasn't going to be able to get any payoff.
So I leave my room and make my way to the bathroom.
Turns out she'd been waiting for me.
And not just Lucy - Molly too!
I didn't even do anything to Molly!
I think, anyway.
So as I walk out of my room, I find these red hands grabbing me and holding me to the ground while someone else ties a rope around my legs.
I'm quite light of course, so they both pick me up and carry me to my bed - and then they tied my arms to the top, so I can't move, and I can't hold myself.
They left me like this for an hour.
Now, like I said, I drink a lot of water, my bladder fills quickly, and I don't exactly have a big bladder...
I managed to stay dry for like...half an hour.
It did feel really good when I went though!
Another half hour later and another one of my sisters came in looking for something - she finds me tied to the bed in a cold puddle.
When she stopped laughing she untied me.
I am so getting one back on BOTH of them.
I'll probably go into this story more at some point - but for now I'll show you the aftermath.
Have I smoked weed, and do I prefer edibles?
Well, Molly makes these great brownies...
I think there might be a couple downstairs.
Think I should steal one after my hold?
Might make these questions a bit funnier.Sake again! Hello Sake! What's your question.
How do I feel about how popular Molly's getting - MOLLY!
WHAT!?
HOLD ON.
...
WHEN DID SHE START POSTING ON THE ORG!?
AND ROLO'S THE ONE POSTING HER?
I'm gonna hit him again when he comes to.
...
...And then, can I hook you up with her?
...
Fuck you.Next question.
What do I do when I'm holding?
Err, usually drink more. Or play video games. Or both.
Or depending on my mood, my hands going down my pants.
What are those Milovania teases?
I'll have to check them out some time for sure.Would I say my bladder's small or big?
I guess it's a little on the smaller side.
I think that's a good thing though! More opportunities to have 'accidents', right?
I love my little bladder!Do I prefer desperation or wetting?
Wetting, hands down.
Desperation is the build up, don't get me wrong - and I love it.
But wetting is the best!
So warm, relaxing and - oop, I'm trying to hold here...And the worst I've ever had to pee?
Oh, for sure that story about the pay toilet. I don't think I've ever tried harder to not have an accident.
D-didn't quite work out how I planned - but I loved it!Next question - what's my catch phrase?
Err, why would I have a catchphrase?
...
Actually that's my new catchphrase - 'why would I have a catchphrase.'Next question!
Dedede asks - can I use my tail as a spear?
No quite. But I can use it as a fly swatter. Or a person swatter. Usually the latter.Am I excited for Banjo in Sma - OF COURSE I AM!
How long do I stay in my clothes after an 'accident'?
I wish I could just stay in them for good!
Something so nice about having them clinging to me, squishing when I move. Really nice on a hot day too when they cool off....
Problem is...they kinda start to smell. You know, because pee smells. Sadly.
It's kinda nice when it's fresh, but it quickly goes bad.
Realistically, I usually stay in them until my next accident, but sometimes I keep them on longer.
Here's an example of me in bed on my phone!
I got changed about ten minutes after that last frame when I was still warm...
Next question - Does my species have smaller bladders than humans?
Err, I'm not sure. I mean, I probably do. But I've seen Lucy put down drinks and go on holding for hours.
I think she's part camel.Next - do I play Minecraft or similar?
I play a fair bit of Terraria. That's a cool game.
Do I feel at home tunneling?
Do I look like a mole?And which Lego sets remind me of home?
Err...I don't know!
There's a lot of Lego sets out there, and I don't exactly cross reference them with my surroundings. Or really own any for that matter.
Also, friends has a lego set?
Like the TV show?
Huh.Last question!
Has my mum ever met the doom slayer?
D-don't mention him.
Please.Okay, that's the questions done.
Err...Man, these drinks are hitting me...hard.
Can't really...sit still any more.
But there's still two more!
So while I wait for more questions, I'm gonna down one of them!
See you soon!
Well, I say soon. As soon as I can.
The real challenge is gonna be s-staying dry until then.
No I didn't stutter! -
-
There are three ex-prostitutes at a bar.
They're all quite old and have seen a lot of action, and they're talking about their experiences.
The first woman says;
"I've had so much stuff inside me over my career, I can easily fit a cucumber up there now."
"Oh that's nothing." Says the second woman. "I've had so much jammed up there, I'm loose enough for a whole arm."
The third woman says nothing, instead she smiles, and lets herself slide down the barstool. -
-
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My day seemed to start normally, but I will admit I don't remember most of it from before I'd come downstairs.
Walking into the front room of our share-house in my pyjamas, nothing was out of the ordinary. Sarah's sat in the middle of the room in her green jammies, cross-legged and focused on the game of Battlefront 2 on the screen. I stand behind her and watch for a bit.
"Having fun?" I ask,leaning over her.
"Mmhmm." She grunts, not looking away from her screen. I stay stood behind her for a while, watching her try and fail to land a fighter inside an Imperial Star Destroyer. So far she's managed to crash two X-wings into the wall, and get shot down by the autocannons. Every time she fails she sighs angrily.
"Not going so well?"
"Do you wanna give it a go?" She retorts, looking up at me angrily.
"Yeah alright." I answer. She doesn't bother giving me the controller though, instead she respawns and runs for another X-wing. As it leaves the hangar for another doomed flight, I feel something warm creeping over my toes.
"Sarah?" I ask, looking down to see a puddle beneath her emerging from her backside, soaking into the carpet.
"Yeah?"
"Are you pissing yourself?"
"What? Oh, ha, yeah." She says, clicking at the control sticks, not reacting to this at all. I knew Sarah could be lazy, but I never had her down for pissing-herself-lazy. Her X-wing collides head first with a TIE fighter. She sighs and drops the controller. A sharp hiss erupts from beneath her and the puddle spreads a little faster for a second. I take a step back and rub my toe on the carpet.
"Why are you pissing yourself?" I ask in a resigned voice. This is a whole new level for her.
"Uh, ‘cause I had to pee? Duh?" She responds. She picks up the controller again, wiping the bottom clean, before respawning once more. I take a step back to consider what I'm looking at.
Sarah's bit of a pudgy girl - not massive, but certainly not in shape. Her brunette hair hangs unceremoniously down her shoulders, not brushed or cleaned. Her undone green PJ top hangs loosely over her body, and underneath are her dark green pants, with an even darker patch blossoming around her backside. The beige carpet beneath her has a matching, growing stain underneath a growing puddle. I look back up to the screen just in time to watch her X-wing blown to pieces by an enemy TIE-fighter. She makes and angry grunt and quits the game. Before I have time to say anything, Amy walks into the room.
"Are you still playing that Star Wars game?" Amy says, walking in. She slumps down onto the couch, letting her house coat flop open. She swings around and kicks her feet up onto the arm-rest.
"Not anymore." Sarah says, leaning forward to eject the disc from the PS2. Her wet backside waves in the air as she does, with more fresh urine pouring out of her PJs. She takes the disc and sits back down on the floor, her ass landing with a wet splat.
"She just pissed herself." I say, turning to Amy. Amy looks up at me.
"Yeah?" She says.
"What do you mean, 'yeah?'" I ask, putting a hand on my hip. "Sarah just sat there and pissed herself!"
"What's your deal today?" Sarah asks, turning to me. I look at her. She doesn't seem bothered by the puddle beneath her. She picks herself off the floor and clambers to her feet, dripping as she does.
"My deal?" I ask. "MY deal?"
"Yeah, what's up Lauren?" Amy asks, picking up the TV remote. "You're acting like she's doing something wrong?"
It's this point when I realised something was up. It's also this point that I left the room in a confused and angry huff.
I walk into the kitchen to catch Natalie rooting through my cupboard. She pulls out one of my tea bags and drops it into her cup. She turns around to the kettle, going bright red when she sees me in the corner of the room.
"Making tea, are you Nat?" I ask, leaning on the door.
"Uhh....no?"
"So what are you doing with my tea bags?"
"Err."
"I pay for those tea bags."
"W-would you like some tea?"
"Yeah alright." I say, stepping into the room. I take over from Natalie, taking out a second tea bag. "Do you want one?"
"Yes please!" She says, grinning and bouncing on the spot.
"I don't mind." I tell her, taking another cup out the cupboard. "But at least ask. I don't like coming home to find all my stuff is gone."
"Sure." She says. She walks over to the table, pulling back a chair. She leans onto the table.
Natalie's our newest house-mate, replacing Annabell who left last month. She still has to learn the rules of the house. And apparently me reminding her of the 'don't take my stuff' rule every day isn't enough to teach her. I can't help but like her though. She's a skinny girl, hazel-skinned and with curly brunette hair down to her jaw. Her green eyes look lovingly up at me over her smile. She always gives me this look when I make her tea.
"So how's your morning?"
"Weird." I tell her, turning my head to look at her. She's prodding the banana in the fruit bowl. "I walked into the lounge to catch Sarah wettting herself, and then Amy acts like it's nothing odd. Then I catch you stealing my tea again."
"Right." She says, not really listening.
"Otherwise, not much worth mentioning." I say, turning back to take the milk out the fridge.
"Making tea, Lauren?" Comes Sarah's voice as she walks into the kitchen with wet foot-falls. She walks over to the counter, PJ's still soaked and clinging to her skin.
"See what I mean?" I ask Natalie, staring at Sarah's soaked crotch. Sarah looks to Natalie and shrugs.
"I like your new PJs, Nat!" Sarah says.
"Thanks!" Nat responds, perking up. "I think they're such a great shade of purple, and the paisley pattern really brings that out!"
"Oh for sure." Sarah says. "And those shorts are so cute!"
"That's why I picked 'em!" Nat says. She stands up and does a little twist to show them off. "I think they might be a little loose though."
I decide to tune out of their fascinating conversation and go back to making tea. I drop a third tea bag into a third cup just in time for the kettle to finish. I lean over, pick it up, and pour it into the first cup. When the water finished pouring, the splashing doesn't stop however. And now it's coming from behind me. I turn to see why.
Natalie and Sarah are stood talking by the table. That's normal.
They're still talking about Nat's pyjama choice. That's normal.
Sarah's PJs are wet and clinging to her. That's normal.
And Natalie's legs are glistening as pee pours down them, through her PJ shorts. That's very much not normal.
"Natalie?" I say, placing the tea cup on the counter.
"Yeah?" She says, spinning to look at me. Facing me head on, I get a full view of the dark patch spreading over her crotch; the pale yellow urine splatter down her legs; the growing puddle beneath her feet. She's wetting herself. She's stood there, all innocent-faced, wetting herself, and quite casually too. Not even remotely bothered by the pee splashing down her legs. Sarah doesn't even react when Natalie's presumably-still-warm puddle begins to envelop her left foot.
"Sorry - am I going nuts?" I ask, too dumbstruck to look away from the streaks running down Natalie's skin. The electric light above is reflected almost perfectly between her feet - or it would be if it weren't from the ripples as more and more is added to the puddle.
"Yeah, but that's nothing new.” Sarah laughs, pushing Natalie's shoulder gently.
"No no no no no." I say, frowning. “You've both just pissed yourselves."
"Well I can see why you don't need glasses." Sarah says, grinning. "Any other genius observations?"
"Only thing I observe is you not making tea." Natalie pipes up.
I don't know how to respond. So I turn around at the tea cups again. One cup is full, and the other two are waiting. I can't quite wrap my head around what's going on, so I make finish making the tea. Feeling rather dazed, I leave two cups on the table for Nat and Sarah, before taking my own tea with me into the lounge again, avoiding the fresh puddle on the floor. I leave Natalie and Sarah still talking about Natalie's purple jammies as if nothing was happening.
I walk into the lounge and carefully sit down on the sofa. Amy's left the room at some point, and right now the room is empty, with the TV just running the local news. It's something about the election, but I'm far too weirded out to pay attention.
Sarah pissed herself, and acted like it was nothing.
Amy reacted like it was nothing.
And then Natalie pissed herself and acted like it was nothing.
And then Sarah reacted like it was nothing - EVEN WHILE NATALIE PISSED ON HER FEET.
"What's eating you?" Amy says, walking back in to the front room. She's put on her work uniform - a grey skirt, grey tights, and white shirt. She's tying her blonde-hair into a ponytail, holding a hair band between her teeth.
"I...I don't know." I answer. "What have you been up to?"
"Nothing much. Yet." She says, taking the band out her mouth. "I've just got out the bathroom-"
"BATHROOM. YES! I knew I wasn't going mad!" I shout.
"Excuse me?"
"Those two just wet themselves like it was nothing, and acted like I was the weird one for calling them out!" I say, pointing roughly in the direction of our bathroom. "But you went to the bathroom!"
"What on earth are you talking about?" She asks, looking at me the same way Natalie and Sarah both had.
"You used the toilet!" I laugh, leaning back in my chair. I don't remember putting my tea down, but I clap my hands together and I don't throw tea everywhere.
"Have you taken something?" She asks, turning around to the mirror on the wall. She brushes her hair with her hand. "'cause you're acting real strange."
"W-what?"
"Oh never mind. What's the time, Lauren?" She asks. I look to the TV. The news is still running, with a little clock on the bottom right. The more I look at it, the more it looks like a bunch of numbers. I squint my eyes and try to make it out.
"Err, I don't know?" I answer, looking back up to Amy. She sighs loudly and checks it out herself.
"Oh damn, I'm gonna be late." She says. "I better get a move on - you're gonna be alright, aren't you?"
"I....err...." I mumble, looking up at her. She groans again. She steps over to me.
She leans over me and presses my head against the back of the chair, looking into my eyes. She tilts my head left, then right, all the while looking into my eyes.
"Well your pupils aren't dilated, your eyes aren't red - do you think someone spiked your tea or something?"
"I don't...." I begin, before feeling something hot splashing over my own legs. Am I wetting myself too?
No.
I'm not.
She is.
Amy is leaning over me, inspecting my eyes, while a yellow stream begins to pour out from under her skirt. A wet patch begins to spread down the front as the culprit pours onto my knees. I'm stunned into silence as warmth begins to pour down my calves down to my feet. I don't quite know what to do - how would you respond if your best friend of six years just casually pissed on you?
"Amy?" I say, looking back up from her skirt. "Y-you're peeing."
"Shush." She says, leaning up even further and peeing onto my thighs. She presses a hand onto my cheek, forcing my face to look up and to the left.
"What are you....?" I begin. Before I can finish, she lets go and takes a step back. I sit stunned as Amy's pee soaks into my Jammies, running down my thighs and pooling at my backside.
"You look fine." She says with a look of concern. "Why are you acting like this?"
"Why am I acting like this?" I say indignantly. "I'm the one acting up? You just pissed on me."
"Why does that bother you?" She says, putting her hand on her chin as she continues to wet herself. Dark streaks run down her tights, and there's another dark stain on the floor next to the one Sarah had left barely ten minutes ago. A small puddle is growing from between either foot. Natalie walks in to the room, with Sarah close behind her.
"Hey, you two." Amy says, looking up to Nat and Sarah. They both walk into the room, standing on either side of Amy.
Sarah with her green PJ pants, soaked from crotch to foot.
Natalie in her purple PJ shorts, soaked entirely around the rim.
And Amy, currently quite casually peeing into her tights.
They all stand and look at me, sat in my chair, and the only one with dry pyjamas.
"Something's up with Lauren." Amy says.
"Something's up with me!?" I shout back, leaning forward. "I haven't just pissed myself!" I shout.
"Dude, what's up with you today?" Sarah asks, yawning and pulling at her waistband.
"You're acting really strange." Natalie says, leaning on her hip and tapping her foot. It splashes against Amy's growing puddle.
I don't know what to say. I look at the three girls until Amy finishes peeing. I stare at the floor below her as the last drips fall into it. My mind goes blank. All I'm aware of is the chair beneath me, and a very sudden and desperate full bladder.
"I....d-don't know." I answer. I look back up to them. They look quite concerned. "But...I really need to pee...."
"So?" Amy says.
"Go on then." Natalie answers.
"Maybe it'll make you feel better?" Sarah suggests.
I don't know what to do. So I take Natalie's advice. I relax.
I don't remember feeling so desperate to pee, but as soon as I relax that urge floods away with a hit of powerful relief. Hot liquid begins to pour out of me, soaking into my PJs and pouring down my thighs, pooling under my backside beneath me. I grin as it puddles under my ass, warming my cheeks before it soaks into the chair beneath me. Everything starts to make sense as my bladder empties into my pyjamas. I get it now. I understand why all three of my housemates wet themselves - it feels so good to let it go! Warmth spreads down my calves as the pee floods over the edge of the chair, wrapping around my legs as it pours down, splashing into the carpet, soaking around my toes. I let myself grin and I press my legs firmly together, squishing the fabric of my pyjamas.
"Lauren." Natalie says, looking at me.
"mmm....what?" I respond, lost in bliss.
"You're wetting yourself."
"....I know...." I respond weakly through a grin. I move one hand over my body and rest it between my legs, letting warm urine flood over my fingers.
"Wake up Lauren." Natalie responds.
"I'm not....asleep..." I say, opening my eyes and looking up. Natalie's stood in front of me in her purple PJs. I look straight into her crotch. It looks....dry.
"She isn't, is she?" Sarah asks. I glance over. She's sat cross legged on the floor, playing Battlefront 2 on the TV. I look up to see her land a TIE-bomber expertly inside a rebel ship's hangar, before pausing the game and looking up to me. "Oh Christ, she actually is."
"Hey, have any of you seen my - Oh for God's sake." Amy says, walking into the room, tying her hair into a ponytail. "Again, Lauren?" She says. She pushes my shoulder. The sudden movement wakes me up. I'm suddenly very aware of my surroundings.
My backside is soaked and warm. My thighs are beginning to get cold, and a wet stain runs along the length of them, going over the edge of the seat. I can feel my PJs clinging to the backs of my calves, and my feet are resting against a very wet carpet.
"That's my favourite chair, too." Sarah says, looking back to the screen and unpausing her game.
"What was the last thing I said to you Natalie, before I went to bed?"
"T-to make sure she didn't fall asleep in the chair." Natalie responds, trying not to giggle at me.
"Do you know why I told you that?"
"I fell asleep!" She argues back. "I didn't know she'd....do that!"
Amy walks over and gestures for Natalie to move. She leans over me and tries to not step in my puddle.
"Come on." She says, pushing my shoulder. "Get up, get cleaned up, and don't fall asleep down here again."
- Anubis , satyr , BlueWetter and 10 others
- 13
Just Wondering
in Omorashi & peeing videos
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Hello and welcome
As you can see, we're all polite and welcoming people who'd love to stop and say hi sometime!
We're a well adjusted and close-knit community of lovely, warming people, and we're glad to welcome you on board.
If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to turn to one of the many friendly faces who'd love to give you a hand
I'm afraid I don't have the video you're asking about, nor would I really know how to rip it - but I hope you find it.
Once again, welcome!
I hope you enjoy your stay.