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Trickling Down

Puddle Private
  • Content Count

    391
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Reputation Activity

  1. Upvote
    Trickling Down reacted to Here4theFun for a gallery image, Holding strong   
    Drawing while holding is both the best inspiration and the best motivation. I leave you a little drawing about a poor unfortunate girl holding her pee to the best of her ability.
  2. Upvote
    Trickling Down reacted to Here4theFun for a gallery image, H4F beyond the limit   
    A commision I did for Mr. Musashi. Since its supposed to be me, I thought I would share here.
  3. Upvote
    Trickling Down reacted to Jailor Eckman for a gallery image, Commission 17   
    From someone on Discord!  They wanted a few "references" in there, and I was happy to oblige!  They also wanted a cameo from someone we haven't seen in a long time!  😋

    ~~
    The chime of the electric doorbell pierced through the haze of Sarah's internal battle.  It had to have been at least an hour since that last couple had come and gone.  They picked up a big bag of cheese-puffs and two of those expensive, glass-bottled green teas.  Of course, they loitered around while Sarah stood stiffly at the counter.  And when it came time for them to actually leave, those bottles shed torturous dribbles of condensation onto the counter.

    Put plainly, Sarah had finished her peach tea a couple hours ago, and now, she badly needed a pee break.  But even at this deserted, middle-of-nowhere gas station she had not had the opportunity to go.  The door to the single bathroom past the drink machines and row of whirring refrigerators stated the reason: "OUT OF ORDER! DO NOT USE!" in permanent marker scrawled across a torn sheet of notebook paper that was taped to the door.

    Ok, ok, but Sarah's meager wage of $9 an hour did not alone justify putting herself through the agony of retaining a boiling boulder of piss for the remaining six hours of her shift; even if the toilet wouldn't flush, she could just... leave it there.  Normally, she wouldn't have considered it --- leaving her pee to stagnate and be found by the next person in --- but now, she was desperate.  In fact, she had reached the "fuck it!" threshold right after that couple left.

    No, the reason she continued to subject herself to this inhumane torture was because when she finally did cave in, she discovered that the door... was locked.  That total bastard of a manger must have figured, "we can't have the public getting in here and making it worse," and then locked it before heading out. 

    What was at first anger quickly froze into panic.  The idea of release had gotten so prominent that the immediate denial left Sarah waddling back behind the counter with her hands squeezing at her crotch.  She undid the button on her jeans just to eke out a tiny bit more room for her unquestionably full bladder.  Sarah fantasized about dashing behind the building, tearing down her jeans, and blasting an arc of hot urine into the uncut grass with her ass bare in the summer breeze... She dreamed of rolling down her jeans at the counter, parting her lips, and returning the liquid to the bottle that supplied it...  She lovingly imagined running into the back room behind the refrigerators, tearing off her pants, and gushing her ocean of misery into the puddle leaked from the refrigeration unit...  But there was only one real option:  Hold. It. In.

    By the time that chime rang again, Sarah was feeling less than confident.  She pulled the zipper on her jeans back together and buttoned them up.  She had to look presentable, at least.  This customer was a college-aged girl...  probably a cheerleader, based on her physique.  She must have been confident about her body to be wearing such tiny shorts and that couple-sizes-too-small tank. 

    "Uh, pump three's card-reader is broken... can you put thirty on there for me?" the girl said in a timid voice that completely defied her appearance.  "Also, is there another bathroom I could use?"
  4. Upvote
    Trickling Down reacted to Jailor Eckman for a gallery image, Passing the Rest Stop   
    "Pleaaaaaaaase!" Harlyn begged her sister from the backseat of their beat-up sedan.

    "No!"  Lexie shot back.

    "Just take the exit!  Please, please, please, please!"  She brought her boots up onto the seat as she pulled her knees to her chest. 

    "You should have peed before we left!"

    "No, please, you don't understand --- I'm literally about to pee myself!  I'll do anything!"  Harlyn whined in response with tears rolling down her cheeks.  Her hands squeezed at her womanhood as every bump and shudder jostled the rusted-out suspension.

    The problem was simple: Lexie was pissed --- downright, bone-chewing livid.  It had been a three hour drive to get to the concert and they had been running late.  Why?  Because Harlyn had gotten caught up in some stupid game that  made them run late.  Lexie had been waiting all year for the band to finally appear at least within their state --- and considering said band was foreign, she was lucky that they had chosen to tour the states at all.  The tickets weren't cheap either...

    Harlyn attempted to explain herself on their way there: she thought she was forty-five minutes early, while --- in fact --- she was fifteen minutes late.  Stupid math.  That explanation had at least kept her sister quiet and stewing for the drive.  They'd make it --- everything would be fine.

    And they did make it before the band started.  This was strange, because they were at least a half-hour late.  They had to get gas, and care-free Harlyn had disappeared to fetch them some sodas adding another fifteen to the trip.

    See, maybe Lexie was mad about being late...  But she was likely  actually upset about how the show had been cancelled due to the incoming storm.  (Oh how open-ceiling venues and fallible weather-reporting never mix...)  What an absolutely "shit-tastic" day it had been...  And while an explosive Lexie went to get a refund for the tickets, Harlyn tried to cheer her up with some mega-sized slushies.  She didn't want hers... go figure. 

    So, now that it was four hours, a soda, and two mega-sized slushies later, Harlyn was in a predicament.  Lexie must have peed after getting her refund...  Harlyn, on the other hand, hadn't peed since before the game that made them late in the first place; she didn't want to make them even later, after all!

    And oh sweet tortoise on a unicycle, Harlyn needed to pee.  This was the kind of need-to-pee that didn't fuck around.  Hot beads of sweat rolled down her forehead and dripped from her bangs onto her glasses.  Her body quivered as she strained against the violent call of nature.  She could count every pebble their shitty car hit  --- even the tiniest of debris caused her seconds of burning anguish.

    She held on like she was dangling from a skyscraper.

    "Please..." Harlyn squeaked from behind clenched teeth.

    Lexie peered at her for a moment from the side of her eye.  Past Harlyn's window, the last rest stop for forty miles slid past and disappeared into the garbled darkness of the storm.
  5. Upvote
    Trickling Down reacted to Jailor Eckman for a gallery image, Commission 08   
    Another commission from @Hyde!!!  Thank you!~  Once again featuring the girls from request 28, we have a cruel prank being pulled on our poor, prideful blonde!  (So that's why they paid for her mega-extra-America-sized soda at the movie! 🤣)
    I hope you all are staying safe and healthy with the outbreak!  (Having all the people I live with work from home (or not work 😂) is presenting an interesting challenge when it comes to my OmoArt hobby...)
     
  6. Upvote
    Trickling Down reacted to Phentaiee for a gallery image, FMHT40   
    Is this a rickroll? You clicked on it, so it technically is, right? Anyway, this is going to mark the end of my daily pages. I'm going back to bi-weekly now, but with no two set days.
  7. Upvote
    Trickling Down reacted to Jailor Eckman for a gallery image, Christmas 2019!   
    Ok, I know it's not Off-Limits!, but I wanted to get something out for the holiday!  🤣 
  8. Upvote
    Trickling Down reacted to Dimwitrolo for a gallery image, So close, and yet so damp   
    She knew she'd held it too long - too busy studying to get up and use the toilet - and that was about to bite back.
    Charlie bolted up the stairs, handrail in one hand and herself in the other, leaping two steps at a time. There was no time to lose before she, well, lost.
    Her bladder felt like fire as she slammed into the door, knocking hard enough to shoot a warm spurt into her underwear. Hot shame clinging to her body, Charlie clasps the door handle, twists and pushes - but the door doesn't budge.
    "Hey! I'm in here!" The voice of her room-mate comes from inside - Charlies heart sinks through her stomach pressing harder on her bladder. Sure the saying is figurative, but the pressure is very real.
    "H-how long will you be!" Charlie shouts, pressing her face into the door and bending over double, feeling herself beginning to leak. A warmth blossoms over her nethers, slowly spreading over her groin and toward her backside. With a prolonged moan and a lot of effort, she manages to stop the leak. She can feel a damp patch in her jeans, roughly the size of her palms. The thud of a drip hitting the ground makes her blush red in shame.
    "Calm down would you?" Comes the voice from inside. "I'm just about done."
    "NNaaaaaaahh!" Charlie shouts back. She's not quite sure what she meant by this.
    The door opens suddenly and Charlie falls through, headbutting her room-mate in the tits.
    "Hey, be careful would you?" Her room mate says, barely having time to respond as Charlie pushes her out the way. She's too stunned to realise the wet hand-prints Charlie's left on her shoulder.
    "GottaPeeGottaPeeGottaPee - Get out!" Charlie shouts, hopping on the spot. She's losing control again as warmth begins to spread over her groin once more. Her Room-mate notices the damp patch growing underneath Charlie's hand and decides not to question her. She backs out the doorway.
    With the pressure from her bladder mounting and mounting - growing and growing - Charlie is too pre-occupied with her hands to shut the door with them. She spins on the spot and slaps it shut with her backside, splattering a few drops onto the tiled floor as she does.
    Now what?
    Pants. Down.
    Charlie tries to unbuckle her fly, but the second she takes her hand from between her legs she realises her mistake. The warm trickle begins to pulsate in stronger bursts, one hot spurt after the other, not even stopping as she holds them back. She can feel streams running down her thighs under the denim - down her calves even, soaking into the tops of her socks.
    Far too frantic and far too leaky to undo her fly, Charlie makes one last attempt to get her jeans down - she clasps them by the waistband and pulls - but the exerted effort is too much - the rhythmic spurts end and make way for a steady stream, pouring straight through her underwear.
    Sweating and panting, Charlie pulls harder and harder at her waistband - but each pull is met with nought more than a harder spurt - by now the wet stain down the front of her legs is halfway down her thighs.
    The pressure is growing more and more.
    The hits of relief from every spurt are growing too strong to ignore.
    The warmth down her legs is almost bliss in comparison to the hot pain welled up inside her.
    One last attempt to pull the jeans down causes her to slip ever so slightly.
    Charlie slaps one hand against the door to keep balance - but the distraction is too much.
    Charlie's no longer in control.
    Heat bursts down Charlie's thighs as any resistance she had left in her is lost - her bladder has won, it's prize is a powerful wave of relief.
    Charlie's bladder practically sprays its contents into her underwear with a hiss, echoing around the small room, inter-cut with splashes as fresh pee hits the tiled floor.
    Her head is pushed back against the door and her eyes clamped shut as she moans in relief - the once unwavering pain of her bladder has gone - now Charlie only feels intense relief, as well as the warmth now coating her legs.
    Her thighs are soaked.
    Her calves are soaked.
    Her feet are soaked.
    As the flood begins to falter, Charlie begins to realise just what's happened, pee still pouring from the soaked denim, pooling by her feet and running between the tiles toward the....toilet.
    The toilet in front of her, barely three-feet away.
    She was so close, and yet...
     
  9. Upvote
    Trickling Down reacted to Dimwitrolo for a gallery image, Cinema   
    Couldn't hold it through the whole movie?
  10. Upvote
    Trickling Down reacted to Dimwitrolo for a gallery image, Barista   
    Does this count as an accident at work?
    Can I claim compensation?
  11. Upvote
    Trickling Down reacted to Jailor Eckman for a gallery image, Request 017   
    Uh oh.  It turns out that fresh seafood doesn't really exist in the mountains!  Of course, because the rustic resort went all-out on maintaining its traditional, American mountain-living image (or because they just wanted to save a few bucks), they installed only one, single outhouse to service all of its guests.  That's really bad news for these two women.
    Having come up into the range from a state over to attend a meeting about the retreat's quarterly performance, this business woman made the mistake of assuming her company actually cares about its guests bodily needs.  A large ice tea for the ride up, several bottles of water during the property tour, and not even a single bathroom-break later, she finally had the opportunity to sneak off to that lonely outhouse... and found it occupied.  The bus is leaving soon.  Looks like its going to be a fun, bumpy ride back to HQ...
    Maybe the winner of the lemonade-drinking contest held earlier will have more luck?  The person in the outhouse can't be sick forever, right?  But, with a half-gallon of pink lemonade running straight through her system, this has become a true battle of attrition...  Her kidneys are on overdrive, and her bladder is full.  Really full. And each passing second is just another temptation for her to just let go, and experience the unbelievably sweet relief of peeing her pants.  But she's 22 years old, and every fiber of her will forbids such embarrassment.  She can hold it.
     
    This is the request I did for @randomrobot007!
     
     
  12. Upvote
    Trickling Down reacted to Jailor Eckman for a gallery image, Request 007   
    How about a night of fun where the hold is intentional, for once?  She's been refilling that cup on her nightstand every hour with the aim of making it harder and harder to resist flooding her shorts.  But there is only one thing the crush in her fantasy would never allow:  the sweet release of a long-needed pee.
     
    This is a request I made for @FilthyPhoenix!
  13. Upvote
    Trickling Down reacted to Jailor Eckman for a gallery image, Page 14   
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