secretomoact

I am so sorry for how long it's been. I had trouble with this chapter. I knew how I wanted it to end, and that it would set up the next arc, but for whatever reason I had a difficult time getting there. Content warning for a short mention of sexual abuse/exploitation. *** Kenneth had requested the day off. It wasn’t because he had made any big plans, or because he was too sick to get out of bed. He wasn’t planning to have any fun today whatsoever. Today was not a day that was meant to be enjoyed. Today was the anniversary of the worst day of Kenneth’s life; The day he lost his Mother. He’d promised himself that he would never do anything on this date apart from taking the time to remember her. He thought maybe her spirit was a little more ‘present’ today than it usually was. Like, maybe she came down from Heaven every year to watch over him and see how he’d grown. He liked to think that she’d be proud of him. When Dwight gave him a long, deep kiss before leaving for the day, Kenneth worried that she might not be proud of him at all. What would she think of Dwight? Would she think he was cute and funny? Would she appreciate how much Dwight looked after Kenneth? Would she be happy that he made Kenneth so happy? Or would she just get stuck on the fact that Dwight happened to be another man? While Kenneth’s Father had made his views on homosexuality very clear, his Mother had never said anything about it. Of course she hadn’t. It wasn’t a topic people were supposed to discuss. But, that left Kenneth with a lot of questions. He wanted to believe that Mother would love Dwight just as much as he did, and that it wouldn’t matter to her what parts he had. He could never be sure, though. Every year, Kenneth would pull a small box out from beneath his bed and remove its contents. They were the last things he had from his Mother, the few things Father had never destroyed. First, he took out the small black and white photograph of her. She looked exactly like he remembered her and, in a way, that made him sad. He’d grown and changed so much in the years since her death, but Mother would never get any older. He spoke in a hushed tone. “Um… Hello, Mother… It’s… It’s been another year.” He felt embarrassed talking to a picture. If anyone heard him, they wouldn’t understand why he needed to do this. “A lot has happened, I guess. Some things have changed. Y—You know my best friend, Dwight? Of course you do, I tell you about him every year. Well, um, THIS year, he’s become… He’s… I— I know you used to talk about wanting to be a grandmother, and how you hoped I would find a nice wife, but…” He sighed. “I wish I could talk to you for real… I WANT to believe you’d be happy, I wish you could tell me…” Next, he took out her wedding ring. He gazed at it, once more unsure how he was supposed to feel. He’d never understood why his Mother had married his Father. He thought maybe he used to ask her about it, but couldn’t quite remember if he’d ever gotten an answer. The ring made his insides twist in a funny way. It symbolized Mother’s tether to the man whom would eventually end her life, but it was still something she’d worn every day, it was still a part of HER. He couldn’t bear to get rid of it. After that, there was her apron, her earrings, the songbook she used when she played piano. And then there was the envelope. It was an envelope Kenneth had never opened, though it was addressed to him in Mother’s handwriting. He’d found it in Father’s study the day he’d shot him. He’d never been able to bring himself to open it. Once he opened it, once he read whatever was inside it, those would be the last words his Mother ever said to him. He didn’t think he was ready for that level of finality. Knowing that there was more, that the letter was still un-read and waiting, made it feel less like she was gone for good. The final item was the framed photo of himself and Mother, and he was dismayed by the sight of it. The issue was the frame, one side of it had come apart, and the glass was cracked. That wouldn’t do. He supposed Mother wouldn’t be disappointed in him for going out shopping today, just so long as it was only for THIS. She’d be pleased that he was trying to keep their photo safe. He left the barrack right away, wanting to get a new frame as quickly as possible. Halfway to town, he received an angry scolding from his body, snapping at him that he’d forgotten to do something very important. He had neglected to relieve himself before heading out. He could still turn back around and pee, then leave again… But, he’d already walked all this way, his errand wouldn’t take THAT long, and his bladder wasn’t THAT full. He could hold it. If it got bad, he knew two places he could go for a piss. He’d be fine. He wasn’t fine. He managed to get to town while his bladder was still merely tingling, he bought a new frame, left the shop, and thought that MAYBE he was starting to really feel the urge… But, not enough to mess with going to either of his ‘safe’ restrooms. He headed back, returned to his barrack, and by THEN he was pretty eager to use the toilet, swaying very slightly on his feet as he reached for the key to his room. And that was when he realized he wasn’t fine. Instead of coming into contact with the cold metal of his key, Kenneth’s fingers went straight through a hole in the bottom of his pocket. A shot of ice rolling down his spine, he frantically checked his other one, hoping against hope that IT was the one he’d stuck the key in. Nope. He was locked out until Dwight finished with his tasks for the day. And his bladder suddenly felt a LOT fuller. Just LOOKING at the door to his room, the easiest place for him to relieve himself, made him desire to go more strongly. Standing beside it seemed to make his body work at lightning speed, increasing the blood-flow to his kidneys, the pump of urine to his bladder, the pulsing at his opening. He turned away, the sight of the locked door wasn’t helping him at all. He cursed himself for not using the toilet before he’d left. What the Hell could he do now? He could see if any of the other rooms were unlocked and if they had toilets. Not all of the bedrooms had attached restrooms, Kenneth had needed to shine the boots of a LOT of his superiors back when he’d been in training to ensure they’d give HIM one that did. Some of the guards were careless about locking their doors, one was probably open, and hopefully had a restroom. However, entering someone else’s room without permission was NOT permitted for someone of Kenneth’s rank. If he was caught, he WOULD be disciplined. And, since the reason for his misbehavior was related to his bladder, Kenneth was sure that his punishment would consist of marching drills plus a ‘disciplinary liter’ of water. Unless Bryce was the person put in charge of overseeing his punishment, Kenneth would be put through Hell. He would not risk sneaking into an empty room. He could instead KNOCK on someone else’s door. Maybe he wasn’t the only one with the day off, maybe someone was resting in bed. Maybe he could… Ask, out loud, to please, please use their toilet. Then, he’d have to explain why he needed that person to leave their room entirely until he was through urinating. “I—It’s just, I can’t go if you’re able to hear it…” Kenneth blushed, he didn’t like THAT idea very much, either. He could use one of the more ‘public’ facilities set aside for the guards. Except, he’d never successfully DONE that by himself before. He knew Dwight and Bryce were both at their posts and, upon checking his watch, he confirmed that their mid-day breaks had passed while he’d still been in town. He couldn’t request any assistance. He was on his own. But, if he found one that was empty, and then he locked the door, he just might be able to pee. This was probably his best option… His mind made up, Kenneth left the barrack and headed in the direction of the nearest restroom. Kenneth’s bladder had been teased mercilessly by the sight of the locked door, and wasn’t about to let its owner forget about the displeasure it had been caused. It throbbed harder with every step, his opening stung when he moved his legs too far away from one another. He pushed open the door to the restroom, praying that it would be empty. It wasn’t. Three of the urinals were in-use, and the stall was locked as well. Kenneth’s chest clenched in on itself, and he knew better than to even TRY urinating here. The only stall was already taken, and the mere thought of trying to use a urinal NEXT to someone made his throat go dry and constrict. His bladder constricted along with it, because Kenneth could hear streams gushing out. His own body so badly wanted to join. Aching throbs buzzed sharply in his lower abdomen, prompting him to cross his ankles for a second. It had been a while since Kenneth had last been in this scenario. Since he so rarely bothered even CHECKING multi-stall public toilets to determine if they’d be usable, he didn’t often have to deal with this; The awkwardness of entering a restroom, finding it too crowded, and then turning right back around and leaving. Certainly, anybody who saw him do that immediately became aware of his problem. They instantly just… Knew that he was broken, and that his bladder didn’t work right. So, when this happened, he was always forced to improvise; He was going to have to pretend that he’d just come in here to wash off his hands. Yep. That was all. He drank four big glasses of water this morning and hadn’t peed all day, so of course now he URGENTLY needed to wash his hands! He hated it, but he went to the sink and turned it on. Immediately, the hiss penetrated his ear-drums and made him wriggle his hips. ‘Ohhh, that hurts,’ he thought, miserable. ‘Just do it really fast!’ Everything about being in here was toying with his bladder. The pee-streams splashing, the faucet running, the knowledge that if he was just NORMAL, then HE’D be getting relief now too! He finally realized he was still holding the picture frame and stuck it into his mouth, trying not to clamp his teeth down around it and damage the material. He ran his hands beneath the water for a couple seconds, then frantically shut the faucet off, and rushed out the door, insides still knotting up with continued tension, pee-hole still burning with the desire to open up and unleash a spray. He wished his bladder would stop searing, it was its OWN fault that it was still full! If it would just LISTEN to him and empty no matter how crowded the restroom was— He crossed his legs tightly for a second, trying to take in a stabilizing breath. Even THINKING about using that bathroom was making him anxious, AND it was making his need intensify! Dammit, when did his bladder get so freaking suggestible? The sound of water didn’t used to bother him this much! Now, when he heard too much at once, something in him felt like it was coming un-glued, loosening up and trying to fall downwards. He waited beside the restroom door for a few minutes, trying to make all his shifting look ‘casual’. He’d… He’d just WAIT for it to be empty. There had been four people in there, after they’d all come out, he’d have privacy. He could go then. He was VERY aware of how he must have looked; Fidgeting around next to a bathroom, the CAUSE of his restlessness would be obvious. And, anyone who saw would think ‘Uh, why doesn’t he just go in?’ Three people came out, but two more went in… And this continued. Men would exit, but even more would enter. It got to the point that Kenneth lost track of how many he was waiting on to leave. He moved a hand to his mouth under the guise of checking his watch. Dwight’s shift still wasn’t over, going back to the barrack would be pointless. The other restrooms would probably be busy, too. Kenneth HAD successfully ducked behind bushes around here for relief before. If he found one of THOSE that was private enough… All the ones around here were too scraggly though. They didn’t provide enough cover. He’d feel exposed, and then he’d end up just standing there with his pants unzipped like a moron. He started to pace, looking for something better. He did not find anything better. In fact, he found something that was a great deal worse; Oliver. Oliver was another one of the guards. One whom Kenneth just so happened to loathe with the intense, fiery passion of ten billion suns. Kenneth liked to think of Oliver as being the greatest evidence that evolution could actually work in reverse. Oliver was more irritating than thousands of mosquitos and the human equivalent of an uneven table leg. Kenneth found him so annoying that he’d rather hold his bladder for an entire year than spend three minutes talking to him. What made Oliver annoying was very simple; Oliver was supposed to be one of their informants. He was supposed to notify them about important things, such as trespassers, or dwindling supplies. Oliver DID inform others of these things, but he had a very lax definition of ‘important’. He liked to alert people to just about everything— No matter how obvious it was. He’d state that the sky was blue as if this was newly discovered information that could not go unnoticed. The worst thing about him was that Kenneth really couldn’t tell if he was being serious or if he was deliberately messing with everyone. Oliver spoke with a blunt tone, and his expressions were always blank. No matter how another person talked TO him, he never reacted in any meaningful way. He was constantly stoic, making it impossible to work out if he actually believed he was supposed to inform people of every, little thing, or if he just thought it was funny to irritate everybody. So, when Oliver stopped Kenneth and decided to notify him that “You need to relieve yourself very badly”, Kenneth didn’t know how angry he should be. Because, if Oliver really WAS constantly stating the obvious to goad people into reacting, then this current situation was a lot more embarrassing than Oliver genuinely thinking that Kenneth was somehow UNAWARE of the fact that he really had to pee. If it was the first thing, then Oliver was deliberately making fun of him for his desperation. If it was the second, then Oliver was just an idiot. Either way, Kenneth didn’t particularly like being around him right now. “I know that, Oliver…” he muttered. “You don’t need to tell me.” “You shouldn’t hold it,” Oliver said. “You might wet yourself, and that would be embarrassing.” Kenneth’s jaw clenched against the urge to shout. He was aware of THAT as well— Although he knew that his odds of actually wetting himself in public were basically nonexistent. Far more likely he’d just hurt himself again. Oliver did NOT need to know about that, however. Kenneth was thankful that, so far, the only other guards who knew of his bladder issue were Dwight and Bryce. If Oliver found out, he’d decide to ‘inform’ everyone in the country about it. “You need to urinate very urgently,” Oliver added. “I will show you where the restrooms are.” “I’ve been here longer than you…” Kenneth mumbled, thinking he should have savored those months before Oliver’s arrival a little more. “I have to go as well, I’ll come with you,” Oliver said. Kenneth had no intention of finding out what trying to take a piss near Oliver would be like. Torture, most likely. “I can wait,” Kenneth said. “I was just about to head back to the barrack, I’ll be fine until then.” His bladder gave a brief, panicked throb, reminding him that he wasn’t fine, and that the barrack held no promise of relief. “That’s a long walk,” Oliver stated. “Look, there’s a restroom right over here…” He led Kenneth a little further, and they came to a different bathroom. This one was more unusable to Kenneth than the first one had been! There was a HUGE line, indicating that several of the guards must have just been granted breaks. Kenneth would not get out one drop here. There was no point in even trying. He’d only make himself feel more desperate and frustrated. He turned on his heel, and was jerked back when Oliver took his wrist. “Part of my job is to keep the rest of you out of danger,” he reminded. “You will hurt your bladder if you don’t go soon. You’re squirming so much.” Kenneth… actually HADN’T noticed that he’d begun to fidget. But, when he looked down he confirmed that he indeed was. His knees were close together, and his thighs clenching as he rocked slightly from side to side. His bladder felt extremely heavy, and the urge to let it relax was strong. He just knew that he couldn’t DO that here! “I’m fine, Oliver,” Kenneth insisted. “Just—“ “We should get in line before it gets any longer,” Oliver said. “You can go first, since you’re dancing around.” Kenneth was NOT ‘dancing around’, he was just a little wriggly, that was all… So long as he kept his legs pressed against one another, he could handle the internal pressure. What he COULDN’T handle was the external pressure. Right now, when he WASN’T in line for the toilet, it was possible that people who saw him could write off his tension and anxious bouncing as something else. If Oliver forced him to get in line, and he couldn’t make himself stop moving around, then it would be OBVIOUS that he really had to go. Then when he got to the front and couldn’t get his stream started, the room would be crowded enough for at least one person to notice THAT, too. The line was off-limits. It would reward him with no relief, just an enormous amount of embarrassment. Oliver wouldn’t allow him to leave, though. So, he was STUCK in the line, trying to think of what he should do. He didn’t even allow himself to hope that he might actually PEE here, he knew he had a better chance of winning the lottery on the same day he got struck by lightning twice. But, to avoid catastrophic humiliation, he was going to have to PRETEND to go, and to make it convincing. He’d have to lock himself into a stall, unzip, and stay in there JUST long enough for an urgent pee to take place. He couldn’t remain there for too long, or it would be obvious that he was struggling. He couldn’t leave too soon or no one would think he’d actually peed. He’d have to hope that there would be enough watery noises in the room to cover up the fact that he wasn’t producing one. Then, he’d have to flush the toilet— A sound that always made his bladder cramp— to make it more convincing. After that, he’d be forced to leave the stall and wash his hands, all without squirming around and making it clear that his bladder hadn’t actually been emptied. And, all of that was going to waste time he could have been spending on finding somewhere that he actually COULD relieve himself. First thing’s first, he had to endure the line. It was partially out the door, and in the time since he and Oliver had joined it, a few more men had gotten in behind them. Kenneth was wary of them, they had a clear view of him, they could see that he was bouncing up and down. He tried to stop, but he just couldn’t. If he went still for longer than a second, his bladder started to shudder and squeeze in on itself, walls spasming with the need to push out his liquids. He was being so obvious about it… Squirming and bobbing up and down as he waited for a toilet that he KNEW he wouldn’t be able to use. The line was moving quickly, at least. So, hopefully he wouldn’t waste TOO much time here. He’d endure this Hell of awkwardness, put up with his bladder stretching out even further, and then go find a spot where his body would actually be willing to cooperate. Somewhere that wasn’t crowded, somewhere that people wouldn’t be waiting on him to finish, somewhere that— “You’re dancing a LOT,” Oliver said. “You’re about ready to go right here!” Somewhere… Somewhere without Oliver! “I— I wouldn’t do that!” Kenneth cried, horrified at the suggestion. His midsection felt bloated, and he attempted to use the picture frame as some kind of ‘shield’ to hide the hand that had gone to his crotch. Honestly, he WISHED he could go right here. If his bladder didn’t freeze up and refuse to empty out, he needed relief so badly that he’d just unzip and let go into the dirt between his feet. Screw the line. He was done waiting. But, his body just didn’t WORK that way, and no amount of desperation would change that. “B—Be quiet, Oliver!” “You’re holding yourself,” Oliver said. “You’re close to bursting. You should ask if you can cut ahead.” Well. That would get all of this over with faster… But, it would be humiliating. He was crossing his legs now, jiggling in place, gripping his dick as he tried pathetically to hide that fact with a picture frame. Begging to skip the line would make it even worse. The line kept moving, and eventually Kenneth could actually get through the door of the restroom, his ears immediately being assaulted by an onslaught of water. Streams gushing into toilets, hissing into urinals, sink faucets running. Occasionally, one of the men peeing would let out a sigh, making Kenneth bounce faster and blush harder. It was like they were showing off. ‘Oh, look at me, I can piss wherever I want! I don’t have to hold it in all day, every day!’ It annoyed him to no end. Didn’t they realize that SOME people didn’t have that luxury, and that being forced to stand there and listen to them vocalize how good it felt to piss was torturous? Kenneth was so irritated, his bladder scorching and flaring within him. He needed to get OUT of here, he couldn’t stand the sounds, every drop of fluid being ejected in that room was adding to his burden, and if he didn’t find some freaking silence and privacy— “The sounds here are driving you crazy,” Oliver said. “I can tell. Only a few more minutes. Try not to listen, that will make it worse.” Kenneth felt one of his eyelids spasm. ‘Yes, Oliver,’ he thought. ‘I’m AWARE of that. I KNOW that if I listen to people piss, I’ll need to piss even worse! Thank you for that astute observation! Please never speak to me again!’ Finally, he was next in line. Not that it really mattered. He’d be leaving this room as full as he’d entered it. Maybe— Maybe he should go to the medical building after this. Elizabeth knew of his… ‘condition’, if he explained he was locked out of his room, she’d let him use the private restroom there. Or maybe he should— He felt Oliver nudging him and looked up to see that— All of the stalls were still locked, but one urinal was available. If he were NORMAL, then he’d scramble in front of it and release his pent-up stream. Since he wasn’t normal, his heart just started to pound loudly in his ears. The urinals didn’t have dividers, it was going to be WAY harder to fake a pee there than it would be in a stall… Oliver poked him once more, and Kenneth forced himself over to the urinal, if only to get AWAY from him. His insides churned once he was in front of it. One of the most frustrating aspects of his problem was that his bladder still reacted to the sight of the urinal, lurching and spasming and pushing hard against his strained holding muscles, as if it really WAS about to empty. Then, of course, when he unzipped and aimed at the thing, everything immediately came to a screeching stop. His bladder just kept throbbing, twisting up on itself, refusing to give out for even a second— Ohhh, just one second of relief would be amazing. But, it was utterly unobtainable for him. He was actually SHAKING from how nervous he felt. With the bathroom being so crowded, and with everyone in it bursting to go, nobody bothered with leaving ‘gaps’ between the urinals. Every one of them was taken and in use, so Kenneth was shoulder to shoulder with two people as he tried to go, all too aware of the noise their streams were making. For a moment, he tried to shut his eyes and just FOCUS on the sound, thinking that it might coax his OWN bladder into releasing. It didn’t work, of course. The hissing was less a prompt to start peeing, and more a reminder of his complete lack of privacy. The two beside him both left and Kenneth knew he’d been standing there for way too long now. But, for some reason, he couldn’t make himself LEAVE. He couldn’t handle the finality of tucking himself back into his pants and zipping them up. He needed to go so freaking badly, he was AT a toilet, he should have been peeing! He WANTED to pee, he wanted to unclench and let it all come flowing out, in the middle of this crowded room. He wanted to piss so loudly and furiously that it drowned out everyone else. He wanted to… He just wanted to go! This was so unfair! Oliver took one of the urinals beside him and he felt the back of his neck prickle. He had a sneaking suspicion that Oliver NEVER shut the fuck up when he was peeing next to someone else. Sure enough… “You’ve been here a while.” ‘I KNOW that!’ Kenneth seethed. ‘I’ve been trying to—‘ “You aren’t peeing.” Kenneth panicked and tried to cover his dick. “Are you looking?!” “No,” Oliver said. “But, I have ears… Normally people start urinating after a second or two— Especially if they’re desperate like you are. But, some people are pee-shy, which is the inability to urinate in the presence of—“ “That’s it!” Kenneth snapped, furiously tucking his cock back into his pants and zipping them. Oliver was… He was fucking with him. He HAD to be fucking with him. No one could be that oblivious unless they were TRYING. Kenneth stormed out of the restroom, not bothering with the sinks. He couldn’t handle having water touch his hands now, and needed to be as far away from Oliver as possible. In his anger, he’d started to take harsh, stomping steps that shook the contents of his bloated bladder. It hurt, but he was reaching that level of rage where everything else tended to fall away for him, and the only thing that mattered was finding someone to scream at and something to break. Since Oliver was not here to shout at, Kenneth just angrily muttered to himself as he went back to the barrack. “Stupid… Annoying… Who the Hell DOES shit like that?! I’m gonna… I’m gonna staple his god damned urethra shut, see how he likes it— I’ll—“ He was trembling, it was getting hard to see straight, his breaths were getting more and more shallow with each passing second. One hand was gripping his crotch, the other held onto the picture frame. The frame for the photo of his Mother… When Kenneth was really little, when Mother had still been alive, he didn’t get angry like this. He didn’t get so mad that he felt like his chest was going to blow up, and like he’d die if he didn’t scream himself hoarse. He’d get a LITTLE frustrated sometimes, and Mother would just hold his hand and tell him to focus on his breathing. He squeezed the picture frame in his hand almost as tightly as he was holding his aching member, and he tried to breathe. Slowly, the heat and rage dwindled, and he could see clearly again. He could see that he’d made it back to the barrack. He’d just wait by the door to his room. He’d wait for Dwight to come back. Kenneth was done with people for the day. If the next one to speak to him WASN’T the one he was in love with, he was liable to yell at them until they went deaf. He gingerly sat next to the door, setting the frame down beside himself, finally freeing up his other hand so it could give his dick a nice, firm grip. He was alone here. He could writhe as much as he wanted here. So, he did. He curled over on himself and squeezed his member as hard as he could. Sweat rolled down his back, and he did his best not to think about how close he was to his restroom. It was just on the other side of the door! If he just had something he could pick the lock with… But, a picture frame was incapable of such a task, and no part of his uniform could be used for it, either. He just had to wait, he had to deal with the rippling pangs of urgency that worsened every time he inhaled. Kenneth didn’t have to wait TOO much longer, thankfully. Dwight had finished his work for the day. Kenneth didn’t notice him approaching until his hand was suddenly on his shoulder. “Kenneth, what are you doing out here? What’s the matter?” “M—My pocket had a hole in it, I lost my key and locked myself out,” Kenneth said. “And I haven’t… I haven’t peed all day!” Dwight noticed where Kenneth’s hands were… “Oh, poor thing…” he said gently. He stood to unlock the door, his chest aching with sympathy. He knew what day this was, he knew what it meant to Kenneth, that he’d ALREADY been in a fragile emotional state BEFORE he’d gotten desperate with no means of release. He hoped nothing too upsetting had happened to him as a result… Dwight opened the door and stepped aside so Kenneth could go in first, he tried not to pay attention to how wobbly Kenneth’s legs were as he walked. He was really bursting… Kenneth swayed from foot to foot as he unzipped in front of the toilet, and started to pee before he’d aimed properly, a strong tidal wave of a stream slamming into the water within the toilet bowl, creating an echoing hiss. He blushed as he corrected himself so it would make less noise. There was little he could do about what poured from his mouth, though; A guttural moan that made it VERY clear how badly he’d needed to do this. “Ahhhh….” Outside, Dwight blushed at the noise. It had been a while since the two of them had explored one another, and that euphoric, panting groan sounded enough like the exclamations of pleasure Kenneth made in bed to get Dwight a little excited. He turned to Kenneth’s bed, seeing the items still laid out on it. This was not the right day to resume their experimentations. Dwight’s eyes stilled on the sealed envelope. Why hadn’t Kenneth ever opened that? Kenneth returned a couple minutes later, pink in the face and looking utterly relieved. “Better?” Dwight asked. Kenneth nodded, then looked away. “Something bothering you still?” Kenneth explained the incident with Oliver to him, and how furious he’d gotten. “I swear, he WAS trying to mess with me this time!” “It’s so hard to tell with him,” Dwight said. “But, it’s okay you got mad about it.” “I wish I didn’t…” Kenneth said. “When I get mad it… Sometimes it literally HURTS, physically. Is that normal?” Dwight paused. He’d never gotten so angry that it caused him pain before. “I don’t know,” he said. “Today was supposed to be about… You know, my Mother,” Kenneth said. “Not about how pissed Oliver could make me feel.” “It’s alright,” Dwight said. “I’m sure she doesn’t want you to spend all your time grieving…” Kenneth sighed. “It feels wrong if I don’t,” he said. “I… I miss her so much.” Dwight sat down on the bed and gestured for Kenneth to join him. He pulled him into a hug. “I know you do… You shouldn’t have lost her so young, especially not… Not in the WAY you did.” “I wish she was still here,” Kenneth said. “She’d be able to calm me down when I get mad… She’d probably even be able to fix my stupid piss-thing.” Dwight wasn’t so sure about that. He figured Kenneth’s Mother would TRY to fix it, but would she succeed in getting rid of it for good? “What’s in the envelope?” Dwight asked, trying to change the subject. “It’s… It’s her last letter to me,” Kenneth said. “You’ve never read it?” Kenneth shook his head. “Once I read it… That’s… ‘It’. You know?” Dwight could understand that, but… “She must have really WANTED you to read whatever’s in there. She wouldn’t have left it for you otherwise.” “I— I know, but… What if it’s something bad?” “What could be bad in it?” She could have written about what she wanted for Kenneth’s future; A wife, a family with children… She could be disappointed in what had actually happened. Kenneth shrugged. “I bet it’s something good,” Dwight said. “Your Mother loved you. I think you should read what she had to say.” Kenneth picked up the envelope. He hesitated, hands shaking, then he forced himself to peel it open. He started to read it quietly, but then his breath started to hitch, his eyes watering. ‘To my darling Kenny, I’m writing this now because I fear there may come a day when I will no longer be beside you. Truth be told, Kenny, I’ve been reflecting on a lot of things. A lot of regrets, mostly. Throughout my life, I’ve never been much more than a doormat. I’ve always been too focused on what my own Mother wanted me to be than on who I wanted me to be. I’ve not yet told you about several things that happened to me, but when I was a child, I was hurt very badly by several men. My Mother knew, and was happy to accept money from these men in exchange for time with me. You will understand when you are older. I felt it was my duty to allow these things to be done to me. Those feelings are ones I never managed to run away from. I don’t know if you remember, but you used to ask me why I married your Father. Over and over again. Back then, I was pretty shaken up by this, but I never once thought you were wrong to ask. Years ago, my Mother and I had just moved to town. I played piano every night in a small bar to help make ends meet. This is where I encountered your Father for the first time. From the start, I did not feel comfortable in his company, but the word ‘no’ had long-since been removed from my vocabulary, ‘yes’ had been saturated into me. I never told him ‘go away’, I never told him ‘I want to be left alone’. Obediently, I played the part that had been written for me from as far back as I can remember. At the same time, I’d begun to attend the local church— The one I’ve brought you to a few times. It was there that I met Ann; you and she met once when you were very small, but I’m unsure if you’d remember her now. For a time, Ann was my everything. I know it’s not proper for a woman to view another woman in these terms, but her beauty captivated me. She had the most delightful singing voice. When she spoke to me, her words filled me with elation and hope. Every moment I was beside her, I was able to feel happy, I was able to feel that I may someday become the sort of person that could stand up for herself and be heard. But then, there was my Mother. I spent my entire life trying to please her, everything I did was done at her beck and call. When the moment came where I did truly need to stand up for myself, when I was made to choose between Mother and Ann, I faltered. I made the wrong choice. I failed myself, but worse, I failed Ann. After that night, the worst night of my life, my Mother reminded me of your Father. “He’s a nice man. Why don’t you spend more time with him?” And, like the well-trained dog I’d become, I obeyed her. I spoke to your Father more and more, ignoring the ill feelings he gave me. It wasn’t long before he managed to coax me into laying with him. He did so by telling me a lie; He told me I was smart, and only Ann had ever said that before. I thought, perhaps, I could pretend he was Ann. I thought, perhaps, that he could cure me of my feelings for her. He didn’t. He instead had left me with child. Becoming pregnant out of wedlock was the final straw for my Mother, and your Father’s Father hauled him out in front of everyone in town and beat him in broad daylight until he agreed to do the proper thing and make me into his wife. Those nine months were some of the hardest of my life. Every second of every day, I lied to myself. I told myself that it would be okay, that I could learn to love your Father. I tried to ignore his constant drinking, his aggression. When he hit me, I thought only of what I must have done to provoke it— I am sure you know this feeling, please don’t listen to it. Your Father’s mistreatment of you isn’t your fault. But, I also was thinking of you, of how I couldn’t wait to meet you. When you were born, I learned how to smile again. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. When your Father allowed you and I to go outside, everyone loved you. Everyone wanted to take you home. You were always polite, always with manners. Oh, I remember whenever you couldn’t sleep, you’d crawl up into my lap and beg me to play piano for you. Whenever I was hurt, I could always count on you to hug me. I am overwhelmed with the wish that I had been able to do more for you. I have done everything in my power to protect you from you Father. I have been up half of tonight trying to think of some way out of this madhouse, and I have nothing. Without your Father, we will be without money or shelter. The bar sent me away as soon as my pregnancy became noticeable, they won’t welcome me back now, and your Father would always be there nevertheless. My Mother is so overwhelmed by the shame I brought to her, she would not be willing to help. The only person I may be able to rely on is Ann. I haven’t had a true conversation with her since you were two. It has been five years. I can’t ask such a tremendous favor of the girl whose heart I broke. I have accepted that someday, your Father may cause something to happen to me. I don’t think I’m that afraid for myself, but I am for you. You are the most precious thing in my world and, if I ever leave you, I will continue to watch over you from wherever I end up. Do you remember when you were learning to tie your shoes? It took you a while. But, you never gave up. I’d find you in a corner of the room trying to tie knots. That’s one thing about you, Kenny, you never give up. I hope you never, ever lose that spirit I see in you. Don’t be like me. Don’t allow your Father to dictate your life. Don’t let him win. I love you. I’ll always love you. And I hope you find happiness in your life. You deserve only the best. Meeting you has been the greatest gift of my life, and I’m so grateful to have had this opportunity. I never got to be the person I wanted to be, but I wouldn’t give you up for anything. However, I do have one final, selfish request. If you ever have the chance, please tell Ann that I never stopped loving her.’ Kenneth didn’t think he’d ever cried harder at anything in his life.

Somehow, Vegeta was able to fall asleep after all of that. The whole time he and Kakarot had been walking back, Kakarot was doing absolutely EVERYTHING to convince Vegeta that what he’d done hadn’t been that bad. “Wait, hang on— Whenever you almost die, you get stronger, don’t you? So maybe after what happened, your bladder’s gonna be even stronger now. That’s good, right?” Nothing Kakarot said could make ANY of it better, though. And it got grating. Even so, Vegeta wasn’t sure how he would have PREFERRED Kakarot to react. His overly cheerful attitude about the whole thing was as irritating as could be. But, Vegeta certainly didn’t want Kakarot to make fun of him, or taunt him in the way Frieza had in his memory. He also didn’t think he could have handled walking in total silence, either. The next morning, Vegeta learned that Kakarot’s hypothesis about his bladder getting LARGER following his disgrace must have been wrong. In fact, the opposite seemed to be true. The second his eyes cracked open, he registered that he was BURSTING. What the Hell?! In the past, no matter HOW long he’d waited, his bladder always behaved normally afterwards. It didn’t NEED time to recover and build back its strength. He didn’t want to subject himself to any further torment so soon. Kakarot had promised to take him home so he could… Clean himself off a little better, anyway. He could relieve himself without having to say anything about it. Goku got up a few minutes later, seeing Vegeta sitting up uncomfortably, shoulders shuddering. He looked like he really had to go again. That shouldn’t have been a surprise— Everyone had to pee when they woke up, right? He just wasn’t used to seeing Vegeta get twitchy like that until a REALLY long time had passed since he’d last gone. Vegeta no longer appeared wet, everything had dried off in the night. When Goku got closer, he realized he still sort of smelled like he’d had an accident… Vegeta probably didn’t want the specifics of ‘last night’ to ever be mentioned again, so Goku tried to avoid them. “Still wanna go home for a bit?” “Immediately.” “Okay,” Goku held Vegeta’s shoulder and concentrated. He picked up on Bulma easily, and knew Vegeta wouldn’t want to see her until after he’d bathed, any lingering scent of his accident gotten rid of. He decided to search for Bulma’s father instead and, locating him, transported the both of them to his side. “You’re trying to give an old man a heart-attack?” Dr. Brief asked. “Nope,” Goku said. “Vegeta… Wants…” He paused, he really should have thought of an excuse BEFORE coming here. He noticed Vegeta was staying oddly close to his side, almost trying to shield himself, face flaming, hands clenching and unclenching into fists. “He got uncomfortable not being able to take a bath. I mean, I don’t get it, but—“ “Figured he would,” Dr. Brief said. “He never takes those gloves off—“ “They are to protect my fists when I pound them against your skull!” Vegeta muttered. Goku looked at Vegeta confusedly, he hadn’t expected him to get defensive over THAT. Though, he too had often wondered why Vegeta had those gloves on constantly. It made sense when he was fighting, Goku had accidentally burned his palms with his own chi blasts before, the gloves probably stopped that from happening as much. Vegeta seldom EVER removed them. “Let’s g—“ “I— I don’t need you to WALK me,” Vegeta snapped. “I am perfectly capable of doing that myself!” Most importantly, he just didn’t want Kakarot on the other side of the door since his bladder was still nudging at him, shouting that he really DID have to go again already. He went to his bedroom, relieved to see Bulma wasn’t in it. He… Didn’t think he could face her right now. Somehow, she’d take one look at him and just… Know. He needed to FORGET about last night, the weight of it was resting so heavily in his chest. It was like he was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that it had even HAPPENED. Even as it replayed itself in an endless, mortifying loop, he could barely grasp that he’d actually done that. It seemed so impossible, that he could ever be reduced to such a deplorable state. Once in the restroom, Vegeta stood at the toilet. He was honestly a tad disturbed by how badly he needed to use it. It had not been enough time to warrant this level of discomfort. Perhaps he hadn’t actually ‘finished’ last night when he’d… Dammit. He was thinking about it again. Why couldn’t his brain just bury that memory for a while? Like it had done with his FIRST… His first awful, disgraceful, pathetic little incident. He took a deep breath and tried to pee. It only took a moment for it to begin pouring, and— FUCKFUCKFUCK! HOTHOTHOTHOTHOT! “Fff—!” Vegeta gritted his teeth against a shout of agony. He felt like he was pissing out a mixture of lava and needles, and— FUCK! His pain tolerance was something he was proud of, but there was one part of his body that was FAR more sensitive than the rest, and now he was spraying acid out of it! He looked down at his stream, and noticed a pink tinge to his urine. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen that happen, it had also occurred after Namek. Except the major difference HERE was that Frieza hadn’t just punched him in the kidneys over and over for several minutes. He hadn’t been too shocked by the sight of blood in his urine after that. He was now. Nothing had happened to justify it. Although he couldn’t understand why urination had suddenly become painful, or why there was blood, he tried not to get overly concerned. He trusted whatever this was to heal quickly, it usually didn’t take him too long to recover from injuries If it persisted, he was sure a senzu bean would fix it, though he hoped it didn’t come to that. He didn’t want to have to ask for one when he didn’t have a single visible mark on him. He finished peeing, his opening still flaring with stinging pulses. He told himself that since the pink tinge to his urine was so light, that meant whatever was wrong with him wasn’t THAT bad. It was probably over now, anyway. He’d gotten it out of his system. Vegeta finally took the hot bath he’d been needing, but the warm water ceased to be pleasant rather quickly. He was accustomed to having his bladder fill up slowly and gradually, only causing him any serious discomfort after he’d been restraining it for a while. He wasn’t in the bath for that long before he was feeling the urge to fidget around. There hadn’t been any of that build-up of pressure that he was used to. Just, one second he was fine, and the next his bladder was throbbing. Ridiculous. When he got out of the tub, he considered NOT using the toilet again. He’d JUST gone, his body was being a moron! His bladder had NO business whining to him for relief again so soon, especially after what it had done to him last night! It was the memory of last night that prompted to Vegeta to go anyway. For whatever reason, his body was behaving in a deeply peculiar way, and he wasn’t about to let it humiliate him again. The second time he peed hurt just as bad as the first, and the coloration wasn’t changing, either. “Hfff—Nnng…” Vegeta’s eyes widened and his teeth clenched. Was this his punishment for the crimes he’d committed under Frieza? Having to endure a sensation that felt like getting stabbed repeatedly all down the length of his dick? His toes twitched and he rocked on his heels, more uncomfortable now that he WAS peeing than he’d been when he was still holding it! It would heal, he reminded himself. There was no need to get worked up about it. There was definitely no need to TELL anyone. So, when he finally found Kakarot, whom commented that he looked really pale, Vegeta insisted that he was fine; Because he WAS fine, he just happened to feel a little weird was all. “You wanna go back?” Kakarot asked. “I, uh… I promise I’ll bring you here whenever you need me t—“ “Just take me back,” Vegeta interrupted. The words ‘You need me’ were revolting to his ears. When they reappeared outside, Gohan, Chi-Chi and the kids were all up. “Where’d you go, Dad?” Goten asked. “We were running out of bait,” Goku said automatically. “You wanna be able to go fishing again today, right?” “Yeah!” Goten nodded excitedly. “After you and Vegeta fight!” “Heh, okay,” Goku said. “Let’s go somewhere with a bit more space, though.” As they walked down the trail, Vegeta buzzed with eagerness. After he’d… After ‘last night’, he was dying to do something that would remind him of how powerful he actually was. Any task that would help to teach his body that it actually didn’t HAVE any limitations was very welcome now. It needed to learn its lesson; Vegeta was in charge of it, and it had to do whatever he said. No more misbehaving, no more humiliations, no more disobedience. He felt a little strange, however. His abdomen was extraordinarily sore, in a way he only ever experienced after he’d ALREADY fought a tough battle. A deep ache weighed heavily inside him, and he was really warm. He’d been to planets before that were orbiting very close to a star, a lot closer than Earth was to its Sun, and he felt like he was back on one of those again. The unusual heat was making him dizzy, and he had the most powerful urge to just… Shut his eyes and lay down. He wouldn’t do that, though. Forfeiting a match because he was a little tired was beyond the realm of things he could ever forgive himself for. He just hadn’t slept that well last night, of course he hadn’t. He’d fought while groggy before and been FINE. He’d be okay today, too. If the air around him would cool down a few thousand degrees that would probably help, too. With some dismay, he observed everyone walking alongside him. Kakarot did not seem bothered by the intense heat for some reason. Neither did Gohan, the kids, or even Chi-Chi. Vegeta hadn’t even thought he was THAT sensitive to extreme heat, how could he be handling a Summer day worse than a mere HUMAN was? Everyone else was walking like the heat surrounding them WASN’T enough to bring their blood to a boil. Meanwhile, Vegeta felt himself sweating buckets as he struggled to see straight. His throat was constricting, his ears ringing, his bladder— Dammit. He seriously had to go AGAIN?! That was impossible, he decided. It couldn’t have even been thirty minutes since the last time! His urethra was STILL burning in the aftermath of that torture. He could NOT actually need it again so soon. And, even if he DID, there wasn’t much he could DO about that now. Not until after he’d defeated Kakarot and the two of them got to be alone for a few minutes. He tried to ignore the confusingly intense pangs rippling through his aching midsection. The sudden headache adding itself to his myriad of complaints demanded more of his attention, anyway. That and the knots his stomach was beginning to tie itself into. What the Hell WAS this?! It was as though, since his bladder had managed to betray him so totally, the REST of his body wanted to give it a try as well. Every bit of it pulling out all the stops to see JUST how uncomfortable it could make him feel. It enraged him, fury intensifying the effect the heat was already having on him. They reached a pretty wide open area, where hopefully they wouldn’t do too much damage if they sparred a little. Goku turned to ask Vegeta if he was ready, but hesitated. Vegeta was REALLY pale, sweat visible on his brow, eyelids drooping. Goku assumed he’d slept pretty poorly last night and must have been tired now, but wasn’t sure if that could account for all of it. Well… Now that Goku was thinking about it, considering how aggressive Vegeta’s ‘problem’ was for him, he must have been extra careful about how much he had to drink— Particularly during the last couple days. He was probably just really dehydrated. There was a small lake near them… “I’m thirsty,” he said. “Let’s drink some first.” Vegeta followed Kakarot over to the lake, not intending to have any water himself. His bladder was behaving so bizarrely that he was wary of giving his body ANY liquid. But, he was SO warm, his throat was convulsing and felt like it was made of sand-paper, and Kakarot was loudly sloshing water into his mouth and swallowing, and— And it would feel so good to— Vegeta tore off his gloves, cringing at how slick and sweaty they felt, and knelt beside the lake. He dipped his hands into the water, his fingers immediately turning to ice at the contact, but he didn’t mind. The rest of him was still burning up. ’Only a few sips,’ he told himself. However, after a couple swallows, the desire for more was too much, and he was still scooping handfuls of water into his mouth long after Kakarot had stopped. The fervor with which he drank startled him, he’d been unaware of how truly dire his thirst had become until he’d started trying to satiate it. When his tongue no longer felt dried out, Vegeta forced himself to stop. He was all too aware of how much he’d be regretting that soon. He could sort of feel the fluid sloshing in his stomach now. Goku felt a bit of a need to reassure his friend, to tell him not to worry, promise him that he’d bring him somewhere private again the second that water wanted back out. Vegeta had made it VERY clear that Goku was NOT allowed to be the first one to bring up his problem, though. Goku supposed Vegeta looked a LITTLE better now that he’d had some water. His eyes were less sunken in, anyway. He was still sweating, still looked sleepy. He knew neither of those things would keep Vegeta from battling so, confident that he’d perked him up enough to turn this into a FAIR fight, Goku asked if he was ready to start. In the seconds since he’d finished loading up on water, the unbearable heat had begun to push against Vegeta again. His bladder was still buzzing with a disturbing amount of need, occasionally spasming at random intervals, making him clench his thighs a little. And his stomach felt… Off. Probably just a result of the dizziness that still hadn’t faded. That would all go away soon, he’d just been really thirsty… “Of course, Kakarot. And don’t think I’m gonna go easy on you just because your children are watching!” But, Vegeta DID go easy on him, despite his best efforts NOT to. The way his surroundings kept twirling as he flew around made his reaction time LEAGUES slower than it typically was. Trying to watch and pay attention to the directions Kakarot moved in made his headache worsen, and the spinning intensify. His urge to urinate had increased at an alarming rate, and he kept needing to push his legs together when he was hit by sudden throbbing pulses. Sweat kept getting in his eyes, blurring his vision further, and his throat had started to close in again. The worst pain was in his stomach, though. It had managed to contort itself into MORE knots, and was doing flips inside him now. All of that combined and Vegeta was more focused on just trying to remember which direction was DOWN than on actually hitting Kakarot with anything. When Kakarot landed a punch to his gut, Vegeta doubled over on himself, hacking. He finally felt cold instead of blisteringly hot, but his body continued to coat itself in sweat anyway. He was so horridly dizzy, he desperately wanted to be on the ground, to feel something solid beneath him, to give him SOME indication of which way was up. His vision was fraying around the edges, the world going dark. He gagged again, putting a hand over his mouth. He felt that same, awful out-of-control sensation from last night, but this time it seemed to be moving upwards, accompanied by a wicked twisting in his stomach. He had to get back on the ground, if he could just remember which way that was, if he could just SEE straight— He had to— He could not allow his body to betray him in front of Kakarot again! “Wait. Vegeta…?” Kakarot was saying, but his voice sounded really far away. Vegeta struggled to the ground. He’d intended to rush behind a bush first, but he’d run out of time. He lurched again and, going to his knees, he began to vomit into the grass. Goku stared down, eyes widening. “Whoa— I didn’t think that I—“ He stopped himself. He’d been about to say that he hadn’t hit his friend THAT hard, but knew the anger such a statement would unleash. Besides, it no longer looked like Vegeta’s sudden bout of nausea was from getting punched in the stomach. He was ghostly white, wracked with shudders and, when Goku put a hand to Vegeta’s shoulder, he could feel that he was burning up. If all of that hadn’t been proof enough that Vegeta was really sick, the way he did not immediately jerk away from Goku’s touch and start yelling at him certainly was. “I— I must have cooked the fish wrong last night!” Goku said. “I’m sorry!” Though, he wasn’t sure if that was the case. No one else was sick, and HE felt fine… Trunks approached them nervously, “Is Dad okay?” “I think he’s just got some food poisoning,” Goku told him. “Vegeta, you okay now? I’m gonna take you home, unless you wanna stay here— Teleporting can make you dizzy, so I just wanna make s—“ “Home is fine, Kakarot…” Vegeta said. He REALLY wasn’t feeling good, he hadn’t shouted at Goku for acting too concerned, he hadn’t demanded what he wanted… Goku looked for Bulma’s chi, and hurriedly transported himself and Vegeta as soon as he’d locked onto it. Bulma stepped back in surprise, but before she said anything to Goku, her attention immediately went to Vegeta. His sallow complexion made it very apparent that he was ill. And Vegeta didn’t handle sickness well. When he’d first started living here, he’d caught diseases often. His immune system wasn’t used to him being in an Earth city, wasn’t accustomed to any of the viruses that existed there. He basically caught EVERYTHING, and there were a couple months where it would have been easier to count the days where he DIDN’T have a fever. Naturally, every time he WAS unwell, he’d refuse to ADMIT that to himself or anyone else. He’d continue to train and push himself in spite of his body NEEDING rest. Twice, he’d made himself collapse because he’d insisted he could ‘work through the pain’ and continue his usual regimen, regardless of the terrible flu he was dealing with. Since he always took such awful care of himself, he inevitably made whatever illness he had WORSE, sometimes doubling the amount of time he ended up needing to stay in bed. He’d complain loudly every time Bulma said “Your temperature is still too high, you are NOT working out until I can touch your forehead without getting burned.” He did such a horrendous job of managing his own illnesses that Bulma had mostly stopped asking him about his gloves. Whatever reason he had to leave them on constantly, there needed to be SOME way to minimize the number of times he came down with something that should have left him bed-ridden, only for him to shout some nonsense about being ‘unstoppable’— Then passing out in his gravity chamber because he’d tried to train with a ridiculously high fever. Clearly, he’d done something similar again. “Bulma, Vegeta’s not feeling good,” Goku said. “He got really sick while we were fighting.” When Vegeta did not immediately start to protest, yell that he was ‘fine’, claim that he’d been ‘winning up until then’, Bulma knew his illness must have been serious. Vegeta was also… Squirming. His ankles bouncing as he tried to wipe sweat from his brow. ‘Wait, that’s right,’ Bulma thought. ‘Vegeta, you idiot, why would you even GO on that trip? No wonder you feel terrible, you’ve been holding it this entire time, haven’t you?’ “I figure it’s something he ate,” Goku said. ‘Doubt it,’ Bulma thought. “K—Kakarot, do you have any senzu beans?” Vegeta managed to ask. He was ashamed, but also utterly exhausted. His body was just… Broken. He needed to get it put back together again. “They can’t cure—“ “Give,” Vegeta demanded, dismayed by the lack of firmness in his tone. “O—Okay…” Goku said. He handed a bean to Bulma. “I guess you can try giving him that later if he doesn’t get any better.” “Alright,” Bulma said, though SHE was certain Vegeta would make quite the miraculous recovery after he had a few minutes of privacy. Goku nodded, “Gohan and I’ll keep Trunks outta trouble,” he said. “Get well soon, Vegeta!” If every last piece of his body didn’t feel like it was made of paper-mache and dust, Vegeta would have made damn sure Kakarot knew what he thought of that coddling tone. “I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Bulma said. As soon as Goku had left, she turned to Vegeta and sighed. “Okay, I’m gonna go… Make soup for you. You just rest in bed. Will you be okay BY YOURSELF for a little bit?” “F—Fine,” Vegeta managed, knees knocking together. Bulma had expected him to look a bit more relieved at her words, but he was still pale, shaking and tense. ‘Well, he’s been holding it for around three days now, so he’s probably forgotten what ‘relieved’ even feels like…’ Bulma thought. She left quickly, certain that Vegeta would suddenly be back to normal by the time she returned. She felt silly making him soup when she didn’t think he was really sick, and instead simply needed the bathroom worse than she could imagine possible. Saiyans WERE just perpetually hungry, though. He’d definitely still eat it. As she prepared the soup, she thought about Vegeta’s ‘problem’ and how idiotic it was of him to go off on a camping trip anyway. But then again, he’d spent YEARS out in space, surely he’d gone even LONGER without access to proper, private restroom facilities before. Obviously he’d managed that somehow. Considering what Vegeta DID in those days, she wouldn’t be THAT shocked if he’d ever decimated an entire planet just to get some privacy in which to relieve himself. Meanwhile, Vegeta was in the restroom, struggling to go. This time, he was not at all concerned with someone overhearing. The door was locked, he WAS alone. He just… He KNEW that this was going to hurt again, and he was dreading it. He couldn’t even decide if the bloated feeling in his bladder was worse than how awful it suddenly felt to empty it. He REALLY hoped the senzu bean fixed whatever the Hell this was. He wished Bulma hadn’t left with it. Finally, the walls of his abused bladder started to squeeze and boiling hot, liquid agony shot out of him. “Fff—Fuck…” He moaned. He suddenly wished he could urinate out of a DIFFERENT body part, one that wasn’t so delicate and sensitive to pain. He KNEW he could handle shooting burning stuff out of his hands… He finished in under a minute, to his dismay. There hadn’t been much in him! Why had he felt like he was gonna burst anyway? He left the restroom and collapsed onto the bed. He really WAS exhausted, and if everything could stop SPINNING for a second, that would be great! It would be fixed soon. He’d eat the senzu bean, and whatever had gone wrong would repair itself. He assumed that he HAD exploded his bladder last night. It was the only thing that made sense. It explained why he’d… voided without intending to. It explained why he was needing to go more frequently— Clearly, his bladder had some sort of tear in it. And it explained the blood and pain he got when he urinated. The senzu bean would patch up the tear. Bulma entered the bedroom a while later, expecting to see Vegeta up and alert, his face returned to its normal color. Instead, he was in bed— She usually had to COAX him into laying down when he was sick. So, then was he actually— “Give me the senzu bean,” Vegeta ordered, voice lacking its usual bite. Bulma retrieved it from her pocket. “Okay…” she said. “What exactly is wrong with y—“ Vegeta shoved the bean into his mouth and chewed. This was going to fix it. He was going to be fine, and no one would ever have to know that he’d apparently ripped his bladder in half. He swallowed, but didn’t feel any immediate change. He’d probably feel the difference when he needed to go again later. For now, his bladder was thankfully empty. Bulma set the bowl of soup on the nightstand beside him, then felt his forehead for a second, pulling her hand away. “I think you DO have a fever…” she said. “It will go away,” Vegeta said. As soon as the bean took effect, all of it would go away. “Yeah, just make sure you actually REST,” Bulma said. “No training until you’re better.” Vegeta didn’t respond. All of this ‘concern’ and fussing over him… It was horrendous. “What happened?” Bulma asked. “Goku said you ate something bad?” Vegeta shrugged. He was NOT going to tell her. Even if he left out the part where he had… Where he’d disgraced himself. Even if he omitted ALL of that, listing his symptoms to her would be impossible. He just had to trust that the bean would work, and he wouldn’t NEED to say anything. He ate the soup Bulma had brought. The inside of his mouth had been tinged with an atrocious flavor ever since his stomach had revolted against him earlier, he was desperate to cover it up. Before he finished with the bowl, he was once again desperate for something else. Dammit! What the Hell was WRONG with him?! He’d peed half an hour ago! But, his bladder just kept SPASMING, hitting him with sudden waves of neediness. And this time he felt— He felt the sharp pinching thing, the feeling that came RIGHT before he started to go. With as weird as his body was being… What if he sprang a leak right in front of Bulma?! He shoved the bowl aside and shot to his feet, startling her. “What’s—“ “N—Need— I’ll— Uh— Bye!” Vegeta shakily made his way to the restroom, hurriedly locking the door. The senzu bean wasn’t working, it wasn’t doing anything against this! As if to further prove that point, when Vegeta peed it hurt even WORSE than the last time! He felt like something very sharp was being shoved up his urethra, slowly twisting back and forth. “Gih—Haaah!” He exclaimed, wanting nothing more than an END to this! A moment later, when he realized how loudly he’d shouted, a pit of dread opened up inside his stomach. Even if Bulma couldn’t hear him peeing from the bed, she could definitely hear him yell. When HE yelled, it could be heard halfway across the city. It took him a few seconds to work up enough nerve to leave the restroom. When he did, he trudged silently to the bed and laid back down, face-first. “Um… Vegeta…?” Bulma asked cautiously. Nothing. “Were you… Screaming?” It wasn’t as though that was an unusual sound to hear, she just didn’t understand what the reason for it was. No response. “Are you oka—“ “No!” Vegeta burst out, sitting up and facing her, furious. “I’m NOT okay, I—“ He caught himself, realized what he was doing. “I mean— I’m fine.” Bulma sighed. This was obviously going to be difficult. “Well, you’re clearly NOT. Where does it hurt?” Vegeta refused to tell her where the pain was, refused to even point to it. “Vegeta…” Bulma narrowed her eyes. “If you don’t say what’s wrong—“ “Nothing is wrong,” Vegeta insisted. Another sigh. “Alright, how about this; I’ll get you some paper, do you think you can just write down what’s bothering you?” ‘Only if I get to incinerate the paper after,’ Vegeta thought, shaking his head. “Okay…” Bulma groaned. “You’re gonna make me guess, huh?” More head shaking. “Are you upset that you couldn’t finish fighting with Goku?” He sort of was, but the disappointment paled in comparison to everything else. “Are you embarrassed that you got sick in front of him?” Vegeta shrugged. Bulma took that as a ‘yes’. “When you yelled you were… Is this at all related to your… Um… What exactly do you want me to call this ‘thing’ of yours?” “It does not deserve a name,” Vegeta said. At least he’d spoken. “Alright, but everything that’s bothering you now… Is it related?” “I— Yes…” Vegeta admitted. “I think it is. I didn’t feel sick until… After I… Nothing…” “Alright, just gonna make this very clear; I am NOT going to tell anyone. I know, I made fun of you about it at first, but even THEN I never told anyone. Of course I won’t do it now.” Vegeta’s frown deepened. He really WAS going to have to explain. Some of it, anyway. Last night would forever remain a secret between him and Kakarot. “I started to feel unwell after I… Was not able to… take care of certain things until the second night of the trip. This morning I began to… Experience pain when I… Um…” “It hurts to ‘go’?” Bulma guessed. “Yes, that,” Vegeta said. “A—And, there is blood…” “And you’re… needing it more often,” Bulma observed. “And the fever… Sounds like you have an infection.” This was one of the things she’d been afraid of. This, and his bladder just rupturing. Honestly, she was kind of surprised it had taken so long. “Has this ever happened to you before?” She asked, not sure if he’d even grant her a truthful answer. “No,” Vegeta said immediately. He didn’t think the time Frieza had made him piss blood counted. “Well… Alright, the good news is you can take some medicine and it will clear up,” Bulma told him. “The bad news is… You can’t… ‘push yourself’ like you usually do.” “I am going back to my training the second my fever breaks.” “… Not what I meant,” Bulma said. “I meant… Vegeta, you held it for two days.” “You think I had any DESIRE to do that?!” “No, of course you didn’t. But, until your infection goes away, if you hold it you WILL make it worse.” Vegeta crossed his arms. “Woman, don’t you DARE monitor how often I relieve myself.” Bulma had actually been intending to do exactly that. She’d pictured herself watching to see when Vegeta looked uncomfortable, and telling him to piss if he didn’t get up and do it himself. But, thinking that over, if the goal was to get him to relieve himself more often, then she’d only achieve the opposite. Clearly, his ‘problem’ was the product of shame, anything that heightened that emotion within him would clamp his bladder closed. The only way to help was to leave Vegeta on his own to handle it. This was so deeply personal for him that over-involvement would only make it worse. Could she TRUST Vegeta to actually take care of himself, though? Given his track-record… They were probably going to need a LOT of medicine. *** The medicine was helping. Vegeta no longer noticed any blood when he peed, at least. It still burned like Hell, though. And his bladder continued with those sudden, no-warning spasms that made him feel so desperate. The biggest problem was that, with each does of medicine, Vegeta ALSO had to drink a full glass of water. He was drinking more copiously than he ever had before— Which probably meant that he was properly hydrated for once. But, to be drinking SO much, while his bladder refused to hold more than a tiny cup of liquid before it started to berate him, made the whole affair DEEPLY annoying. He didn’t try to hold it. Bulma was leaving him alone in their room, so no one was present to watch as he made frequent, occasionally panicked, trips to the restroom over and over again. It still embarrassed him quite a bit, and the loathing he felt towards his bladder deepened. He managed to doze off a few times, and each time he slept, he was subjected to the stupid Frieza dream again— Now, it came to him in full clarity, every word, every bodily sensation, every emotion, he felt it all with a startling intensity. He was always woken from the torment by another jab from his bladder, which could only be satiated by enduring the burning agonies that now accompanied emptying it. Night came, and Bulma returned to the bedroom. Part of her was glad to see that he was actually resting like he was supposed to, the other half was dismayed that VEGETA was doing something that he was SUPPOSED to do. How awful must he have been feeling!? “Doing any bett—“ “Sleep now,” Vegeta interrupted. He had no desire to return to the world of his dreams, but he had even LESS desire to discuss how he was ‘feeling’ with Bulma. The sooner this infection went away, the sooner Vegeta could pretend that NONE of this had ever happened. He hadn’t gotten too desperate to fly home. He hadn’t tried to pee in a lake. He hadn’t gone so crazy with need that he’d basically BEGGED Kakarot to wake up and assist him. He’d never soaked himself in front of Kakarot. And, he DEFINITELY hadn’t made himself sick in the process of all that. None of that had ever happened, and it never WOULD happen. He SHOULD have just used the dragon balls. Yelling at a magic dragon to rid him of his ‘difficulty’ was better than shooting blazing acid out of his dick while his woman and his rival both fussed over him. He was about to fall asleep when his bladder lurched again and he stumbled to his feet in alarm. Shakily, he looked back at Bulma, hoping she hadn’t seen him move in such a frantic way. Her eyes were shut. Good. He went to the restroom again, he aimed and reminded himself once more that Bulma couldn’t hear a THING from the bed. His pee trickled out and, ohhh, the burning had gone from an intense roar of agony to just a dull hum. It was clearing up, it was going away. This would be over soon. He could move on soon. He headed back to bed and, unfortunately, back to the Frieza dream as well. This time around, there was a change; Vegeta wasn’t a child in his dream, like he had been in reality. He was himself as he was now, standing beside Frieza as the tyrant babbled on and on about what a disgrace he was. “Can’t even keep yourself dry…” When he realized that he was in his ADULT body, that he must have had access to all of his abilities, Vegeta thought that meant he could DESTROY Frieza now. He was leagues stronger than he’d been when he was a kid. He was even stronger than he’d been when confronting Frieza on Namek. He really COULD win this time, put an end to the mocking tirade once and for all. Only… When he tried to summon his chi… It wouldn’t work. He couldn’t feel ANYTHING building inside him, no energy, no heat, none of what he USUALLY felt. Instead, he was just… Empty. He was powerless, in both the literal and figurative sense of the word. He couldn’t access a single one of his abilities, he could do nothing to shut Frieza up. And then the panic took hold. He was aware, in some corner of his mind, that this wasn’t real and HAD to be a dream. Frieza was DEAD, and he’d never had an accident in front of him as an adult. He knew he was asleep, and that when he woke up, he’d be in control again, he’d be strong again. But, his dream aggressively held onto him, refused to let him leave its confines, refused to allow him to open his eyes and find himself in his bed, with everything as it SHOULD have been. And he felt a bit of stinging, the sensation that always came before he started to— He woke, realized he was clutching himself tightly, bladder screaming like it had been doing all day. He started to get up and— Warmth. Just a tiny bit, maybe only a handful of drops, but he’d still SPILLED. No, no, no— He couldn’t risk— Not again— Some of the water glasses he’d had to drain were still on the nightstand. Under normal circumstances, if he started to desperately… ‘use’ such a small container, he’d overflow it for sure. These weren’t normal circumstances, however. His bladder was REFUSING to hold much of anything. If he— No! That was depraved and utterly revolting! He was not SO needy that he’d relieve himself into a glass when a toilet was RIGHT there. He could never be so desperate that he couldn’t WALK, sick or not! He tried to get up again, and felt another spurt leak out. FUCK. Th—The glass was better than… Than THAT. Anything was better than that! Once he’d… Finished with it, he’d carry it outside or something so he could VAPORIZE it without waking anyone up! No one would know! He grabbed the cup and pulled himself out, aiming into it. He did not start to go. So much of him was SHRIEKING that he shouldn’t even be CONSIDERING this. This was so beneath him, he was supposed to be able to wait— He was supposed to be able to WALK for a few seconds and relieve himself PROPERLY. He wasn’t supposed to… To wet himself, or get so desperate that he broke his body, or— “V—Vegeta…?” SHIT. He turned slightly, trying to shield what he was… trying to do. Bulma was awake, rubbing her eyes. “Are you getting sick again?” She asked. “N—No, go back to sleep!” “What are you—“ Bulma sat up more, and she felt fully awake when she caught sight of the cup and its position. “… Oh.” Vegeta tried to cover himself up, “What are you looking at? Go back to bed!” Bulma was at a loss for words. It was obvious what Vegeta was attempting to do, she just never would have expected him to do anything like it. She knew that the infection must have been responsible, but it was still shocking. “I’ll… Leave,” Bulma said simply, standing up. Vegeta started to twitch more violently. “Y—You will not breathe one word of this to anyo—“ “I won’t!” Bulma said. “I promise, alright? I don’t want you to stress yourself out over that anymore!” 

All of the assurances in the world wouldn’t have helped. She’d seen him at such a low, disgraceful point. The only thing that would have been worse would be if SHE’D been present for his… For ‘last night’. The second she’d left the bedroom, his bladder gave out and drained into the cup. The burning was still fading away, it was improving, he was going back to normal… The water-level in the cup started to get dangerously high and he ended up needing a second one before he was finished. Gah, disgusting… He took them into the restroom since he was finally able to stand up without disgracing himself. He scrubbed them in the sink, promising himself that he’d blow them up in the morning. They’d seen too much and deserved to die. When Bulma came back in, he deliberately faced away from her. “Vegeta…” she said gently. “It’s not that big of a—“ “Silence…” he muttered. “It’s really not… I mean, it’s not like I haven’t ever SEEN it,” Bulma said. “I seem to remember you being HAPPY to show it off to me before.” “Th—That’s not the concern, and you know it!” If Vegeta’s ‘problem’ was all about not wanting anyone to peek at his dick, then there wouldn’t even BE a problem— Anyone who saw it would be amazed— ANYONE. It would be an HONOR to gaze upo— “So, the anxiety doesn’t have anything to do with someone seeing your—“ “It’s NOT anxiety, and NO it doesn’t,” Vegeta snapped. “If that WERE the issue, the problem would vanish any time I’m behind a locked door.” “… What exactly are you… ‘Having feelings’ about?” ‘Worthless, frail, puny, weak, disgraceful little monkey brat…’ “I… Don’t know,” Vegeta said. “I’m sure you do.” “I don’t,” Vegeta insisted. “I PROMISE no one else will find out…” “I— I didn’t know,” Vegeta said now. “I forgot for a while, just… Knew that if I… If I… relieved myself, then I’d be weak, and—“ “So, it IS an ego thi—“ “No!” Vegeta interrupted. “It’s… I…” He knew he should feel no shame in admitting that he’d had an accident as a four year old, but he did. He felt even more shame that the event had effected him so profoundly when it didn’t have any right to. “I—It…. Part of it… I— I think Frieza kind of made it start.” “Did he try to train you not to go, or something?” “N—Not exactly,” Vegeta said. “I… I was four, and we were… Going somewhere, another planet, a—and… Frieza wouldn’t let us stop, h—he made me…” Vegeta’s voice broke, and it shocked him he was even CAPABLE of speaking so quietly. “He made me… Beg, and still wouldn’t… And I just— I—“ Bulma cut him off, reacting in much the same way Kakarot had. “You were FOUR, Vegeta. If you… didn’t ‘make it’, that’s—“ “Wh—When we got there,” Vegeta continued. “Frieza… He made me stand in front of everybody, and he told them all how I was… Pathetic, a—and that I was the reason they needed to obey him, because their future king was…” “Oh…” Bulma said. No wonder Vegeta associated peeing with failure, and when even the smallest amount of failure was intolerable to him… It really WASN’T just an ego thing, it may have even been something beyond anxiety. Bulma had sort of been planning to find something that made Vegeta relax— Though, if such a thing existed, she’d never seen it and had no clue where to start looking— But, now that she knew WHERE his feelings were coming from, she knew the solution to them would be more complicated than she'd thought.

(This one is part of my series, Limited Edition.) *** The teacher leading this overnight field trip had claimed that he selected the groups based on how well he’d noticed students getting along during school hours. But, Shelby wasn’t that sure she believed him. Because, while Nova WAS her best friend and she DID love her brother, the other two members of her group were the last people she’d EVER want to spend time with. The feeling was more than mutual, of course. Samantha and Jessica didn’t like being around Shelby any more than Shelby liked being around them. Unfortunately, they were now about to spend several hours trapped in a car together. Jessica’s mom was one of the chaperones for this trip, and had agreed to drive the students whom were part of Jessica’s group in order to free up space on the bus. Shelby thought she’d prefer the noisy bus to being stuck in a confined space with Samantha and Jessica. Not that she could actually SAY that in front of one of their mothers. At least Nova and Emmett were going to be with her as well. That DID mean the car was sort of crowded, though. Shelby was wedged between Emmett and Nova in the very back seat, while Samantha and Jessica had plenty of room to themselves in the middle. It wouldn’t have been that terrible, but any time Shelby tried to speak to HER friends, Samantha would turn around to glare at her. “Jessica and I are having a conversation, could you please stop talking with your annoying voice?” That was one of Samantha’s favorite things to say, she HATED Shelby’s voice for whatever reason. Shelby didn’t really understand why. In fact, she USED to think her voice was nice since she’d always gotten picked to sing in school plays back during elementary school. To her, it didn’t sound like her voice had changed THAT significantly as she’d gotten older, but maybe it had. She was sort of irritated with herself for even THINKING about that so much to begin with. She had no idea why, but Samantha had a way of SERIOUSLY getting into her head. Not many people could do that. She’d been insulted and called mean things by bullies in the past, and Samantha was the only one who’d ever been able to cut her deeply and make her feel like shit. Maybe that was because Samantha was a girl? Everyone else who’d ever picked on her had been a guy. Shelby knew how to handle guys. She knew what retorts to use against them to make them knock it off. Shelby had a suspicion that tiny dick jokes weren’t going to faze Samantha very much. The WAY Samantha picked on her differed from what guys tended to do as well. Samantha was more… meticulous. She zeroed in on anything she noticed that could be hurtful to Shelby and then refuse to let up about it for weeks at a time. And, sometimes what she said wouldn’t even be a blunt insult, but something more coded. She’d often make a comment that sounded almost NICE, the real intent only noticeable by Shelby herself and not by anyone else who’d overheard. Things like “Hey, your hair actually looks good today for once!” Whatever the reason, Samantha’s taunts tended to stick with Shelby even when she knew that they shouldn’t. They made her second-guess herself, and sometimes even feel ashamed of things that had once been a source of pride for her. Like that day in the restroom… Shelby had never wanted any of her classmates to find out that she peed standing up, she knew a lot of them would think it was weird. But, the things Samantha had said about it, and then bringing her mother into it to explain that she just didn’t know ‘how’ to be a girl… To her complete dismay, Shelby had been having trouble standing to pee lately. She hadn’t forgotten HOW or anything, when she did it, it worked as well as it ever had. But, she felt… Off about it, like this act of ‘rebellion’ was supposed to be off limits to her for a REASON. Like she wasn’t just going against the grain and doing her own thing, but instead doing something really wrong. She was aware that was idiotic, particularly since she couldn’t put into words WHY it would be ‘wrong’, and was merely repeating Samantha’s statements to herself— Statements that she knew she shouldn’t even give a second’s thought to. If Samantha hadn’t brought up Mom, Shelby was sure she wouldn’t have dwelled on it so much. But, since Samantha HAD done that, Shelby couldn’t stop thinking about it, and if Mom would be disturbed by Shelby’s ‘talent’ if she’d been around to find out about it. It was that asinine worry which had been causing Shelby to struggle. She’d head to the toilet and get ready to pee standing up, and have a very difficult time relaxing her body enough to actually GO. She still managed to get the flow started sometimes, but far more often she’d be forced to give up and just sit down instead. The most annoying bathroom trips were the ones in which she was able to START peeing standing up, only for the stream to randomly cut off before she was done when she began to stress out again. That always really hurt! Her bladder would roll over inside her, and her holding muscles would basically catch fire. Even if she hadn’t been desperate before, if her relief was interrupted, she’d suddenly feel as though she was about to pop, scrambling to sit down so that she could hopefully finish up. Shelby wished she could just FORGET about Samantha’s stupid comments. Samantha’s only goal in life was, as far as Shelby could tell, just to make other people feel bad. As many as she possibly could. She was just mean for the sake of being mean, and Shelby shouldn’t let that get to her! She certainly shouldn’t let it make it hard to pee! She also shouldn’t just follow Samantha’s order to stay quiet through the entirety of this car ride. In fact, she should talk LOUDER just to spite her! Shelby tried to think of something to talk about and, unfortunately, only one topic came to mind right away. Perhaps she shouldn’t have spent the last few minutes thinking about her newfound urinary difficulty. Focusing on the subject of pee had been rather suggestive to her bladder, and the pee she’d had at home that morning now felt like it had been a little too long ago. Her bladder was tingling in a way that was both utterly annoying and completely impossible to ignore. This was not an emergency, she could definitely hold it in for a bit longer, but now that she’d NOTICED the growing pressure it became the only thing she could feel. She shifted slightly, adjusting her position in an attempt to shift the weight within her bladder. The tingling faded away for a second, but then came back just as strong as before. “How long have we been driving?” She asked. The drive was supposed to be around four hours. Nova looked at her watch. “About thirty minutes.” Shelby frowned, unsure if her bladder would be willing to tolerate it for that long. Her need to empty it was only going to increase with time. It WAS only increasing now. She swore the severity felt worse than it had a couple minutes ago. “O—Okay,” she said. It was a long drive and, she knew that by the end of it she wouldn’t be the ONLY one in need of a toilet break. Maybe they’d even stop somewhere once they got to the half-way point. Once EVERYONE needed to go, it would only make sense. Beside her, Nova was looking at her watch in dismay. To her, it had felt like they’d been in this car WAY longer than just thirty minutes. But, that was probably just because time was moving at a snail’s pace for her, each minute stretching itself out to an absurd degree. All thanks to a very stupid mistake Nova had made earlier that morning. Namely, she’d forgotten to pee before leaving her house, and then she hadn’t had time to use the bathroom at school before she had to get into this car. Which meant she was now holding in everything that had accumulated in her bladder during the night, which she was beginning to realize was an awful lot. It was so much that she didn’t understand how she could have neglected the toilet while she’d been getting ready for school. She’d been sitting with her legs crossed ever since the drive had begun, doing her best to simply squeeze them together rather than bounce them around and make her problem obvious. It was sort of working, but now one of her feet was beginning to go numb from the lack of circulation. What Nova really wanted was to ask for a stop, but she knew it hadn’t been long enough yet. Doubtless, she was the only one that needed to pee yet, and she didn’t think many of the others would be willing to pull over just for her. She just had to hold off until more people needed to go. Which, she hoped, would be soon. As more time passed, and every bump in the road made Nova feel like her bladder was being impaled, she started to glance around the car for signs that someone else was starting to get desperate. She was pretty good at noticing Emmett’s ‘tells’, so she mostly focused on him. She waited for him to tug at his bangs, or tap his fingers against the tops of his knees. He ALWAYS did that when his bladder was getting full. He wasn’t now. Nova glanced at Shelby, but she wasn’t squirming, just staring ahead and occasionally sighing, most likely growing bored listening to Samantha and Jessica’s conversation. She didn’t appear to need the toilet either. Nova couldn’t get a very good view of Samantha and Jessica up ahead of her, but they didn’t seem to be fidgeting around, so Nova accepted that she was going to have to keep waiting. She seriously didn’t want to, however. Her lower stomach felt heavy and actually a little bit bloated. She thought that, if she were at home and experiencing this degree of need, it might be sort of fun in a way. She’d know that she could put a stop to her discomfort any time she wanted to, and that there was no real danger of having an accident. But, since she was actually just trapped somewhere without a toilet, this was all far more stressful. She didn’t KNOW how long she was going to have to wait, and if it turned out to be TOO long… She’d go right where she was sitting, pee soaking the back of her skirt and puddling in her seat. Shelby and Emmett would be nice about it, but the others wouldn’t. Samantha would mock her ruthlessly, and Jessica and her mom would likely BOTH freak out over the soiled seat. Nova couldn’t let that happen. She HAD to keep it in. The constant, tense squeezing of her legs seemed to be working to plug her closed so far, but with more liquid being pumped into her bladder every few minutes and every speed-bump causing her abdomen to cramp… She hoped the stop came soon… Shelby was struggling not to ask Nova for the time again. She doubted they were much closer yet, anyway. She was frustrated with how rapidly her bladder was filling up. Just, being stuck in a car with nowhere to go was making the need to go worse. The vehicle felt really constraining, like a prison. Being wedged in between two people didn’t help with that. Add onto that how taut her seatbelt was over her sore lower stomach and it was getting really hard not to squirm. She was so focused on the effort it took not to wriggle around that she failed to notice when the light they were approaching turned red. Jessica’s mom hit the brakes and Shelby’s seat-belt tightened up over her bladder, causing an uncomfortable jolt to shoot straight through it. Instinctively, she lifted one of her feet up into the seat with her, trying to calm her urgency down by pushing her knee to her chest and rocking against her heel. Ah, she was starting to get kinda desperate… She needed that stop to come really soon! Didn’t anyone else need to go yet? Shelby could barely find a comfortable position anymore, she kept yanking at her seat-belt and shifting, but none of it made her bladder feel any better. She glanced around, and was easily able to deduce that Emmett did NOT need to pee yet. She’d seen her brother desperate so many times that she knew exactly what to look for, so she was certain he was fine now. Nova looked a little tense. So, it was possible that SHE needed to go, but since she wasn’t moving around Shelby wasn’t sure. Samantha and Jessica were still chattering, nothing their voices denoted any discomfort. Shelby was on her own. She was going to need to wait this out a little longer. About an hour later, Nova was getting generally scared. The last speed-bump they’d hit had been absolute HELL on her. Her bladder had gotten bounced so violently that she swore the pee splashed up to her throat. She was squirming more obviously by then, she just couldn’t HELP it. Her options were to either wriggle around or have an accident and she KNEW which one she preferred. She’d even started to cup herself, hands pushed against her crotch, pressing into her skirt. Her urethra was aching with the need to just RELAX for a second. Just one second would be Heavenly. A few droplets of her burden being set free to make the rest of it a little easier to hang onto. But, she knew what would happen if she allowed ANY of it to come out. It would feel just TOO good, and she wouldn’t be able to resist letting the rest go. One drop, and her dam would collapse, drenching her panties, skirt and the leather seat underneath her. So, she just kept squirming and clutching, begging herself to please, please hang on. She accidentally kicked Shelby a couple times since they were so close together, and she hadn’t been able to help THAT either. She’d just apologized and tried to scoot further away. But, Shelby had kicked HER once as well, so they were even. After that, Shelby had just opted to pull both her feet up and squeeze them against her crotch. She was getting worried as well. Their destination was still so far away, and the road stretching out ahead of them seemed endless. She doubted she could make it to the end. Emmett was having trouble as well, his own bladder acting up and forcing him to move. His seat-belt was not helping at all. It wrapped around his bladder no matter which direction he squirmed in or how hard he tried to pull away from it. Ahead of them, Samantha and Jessica were both jiggling in place. Their conversation had dried up, which was the exact opposite of what had happened to their bladders. Jessica was being perhaps the most dramatic about it out of all of them— Even compared to Nova whom hadn’t peed a drop all day. Jessica was whimpering and moaning, hands digging between her quivering thighs as she writhed against them. According to her, she was going to pee her pants in about thirty seconds. But, she’d been saying that for about ten minutes now so it was difficult to believe her. “Calm down,” Samantha admonished her. She was gripping the edge of her seat, her feet tapping frantically and her teeth grinding. “I need to use the bathroom too, but I’m not flipping out over it.” “B—But, I need to go so bad…” Jessica said. She sort of sounded like she was about to cry. She sort of FELT like she was about to cry. She didn’t think she’d ever fantasized so much about simply being allowed to sit down on a toilet before. This was the emergency to end all emergencies. “I’ve never had to pee this bad!” “You say that every time you have to go,” Samantha rolled her eyes. She tugged at her seat-belt, trying to pry it away from her bladder to no avail. “Just be patient. I can wait just fine, so you can too.” She turned slightly to the three in the back. “ALL of you can.” Nova didn’t think she COULD. It had been WELL over half a day since she’d last relieved her bladder and it NEEDED to come out NOW. She’d been the first one to speak up about her need. She’d tried so hard NOT to be, but the pressure she was under was excruciatingly severe and she couldn’t stop herself. Even if she was the only one that needed to go, she needed to go SO bad that they just HAD to pull over for her! She’d felt like a fool when, immediately after she’d confessed her own need, Shelby did the same thing. “Yeah, I’m bursting too.” Followed by Jessica, crying out “Ah, finally! I didn’t wanna be the only one to ask!” Then Samantha, “I could use a stop…” Emmett HADN’T said anything, but his urgency had become clear enough when he’d started to mess with his hair and fight with his seat-belt. Nova wasn’t sure if his silence on the matter was due to his shyness, or because he just had no intention of using the bathroom at whatever grody gas station they happened to find. That was actually the crux of their current predicament; They couldn’t actually FIND anywhere to stop. Nova had picked the worst possible moment to finally voice her need, only doing so minutes before they suddenly found themselves caught in a traffic jam. Apparently, there had been a wreck— Nova tried to avoid thinking of it as an ‘accident’ lest she tempt fate too harshly— and they were going to be stuck for a while. Nova bounced her knees as they crawled forwards, straining to see any signs indicating an exit, indicating relief… She didn’t see anything, and she strained harder against her clenching hands, shifting her hips around before settling into a position where one of her knees was crossed over the other. Shelby was sure she had it the worst of all of them, if only because she had so little room to wriggle around in. Coiling up in her seat and rocking against her ankles was really ALL she could do. She couldn’t put her feet back down on the floor without them immediately flailing around and kicking both of the people beside her, and… From the looks of Nova, being kicked TOO hard would probably cause an accident— Possibly multiple if the sound of Nova’s spray proved to be too much for the rest of them to handle. Jessica’s mom was sympathetic, at least. Or, at any rate, she definitely didn’t want to deal with five wet car seats, anyway. She kept apologizing and encouraging them all to hang on, insisting that traffic would HAVE to clear up soon. But then, it seemed she was a bit TOO desperate to ensure at least ONE seat stayed dry, because she said “Emmett… It looks like you’re having an emergency too. If you want, you can just get out and go on the side of the road…” Jessica moaned that that was ‘sooooo unfair!’ And Samantha stated that it was both ‘unfair’ and ‘disgusting’. Shelby and Nova both stayed quiet. Shelby could do that too! She could do it almost as easily as Emmett could! If Samantha weren’t there, Shelby just knew she’d blurt out “M—Me too!” And then go to JOIN him! She doubted the strange nervousness could lock her bladder up NOW, not when she was THIS desperate to let it out! But Samantha WAS there, and if Shelby gave her irrefutable confirmation that she did, in fact, pee like a guy sometimes… Samantha would say something so cruel that it would stick in Shelby’s head forever. Nova also knew that SHE could join Emmett. At that point, she didn’t even think she CARED about exposing her ‘talent’ to a few new people. Even if they got weird about it, it was better than soaking herself. But, Emmett was shaking his head, biting his lip. “I— I don’t want to be mean to them…” he said. “I’ll just—“ “It’s okay!” Nova interrupted frantically. She… She was going to do this, but she wouldn’t do it alone. Going on the side of the road with no one there beside her would be frightening. If Emmett was there, she’d feel safe. She’d feel safe and, more importantly, she’d feel so fucking relieved… “It’s okay!” Emmett’s hands ceased tugging at his seat-belt and went instead to the latch. There was an uncharacteristic amount of eagerness in his expression, considering he was about to pee outdoors— Something he’d always considered unsanitary. He really DID need to— “No, it’s not!” Jessica exclaimed. “If I can’t pee, he shouldn’t get to go, either!” Emmett stopped what he was doing. “I— I’ll hold it…” He bounced his knees for a moment before rubbing his legs together. “I’ll—“ He shut his eyes, drumming his fingers against his thighs. “I— Ah! I can’t—“ He went back to the seat-belt latch and clicked it, one hand moving to his crotch immediately after as he grabbed the door with the other. “I’m sorry— I just—“ He scrambled out of the car. Nova pulled her OWN door open to follow him, ignoring Jessica’s shouts about ‘fairness’ and Samantha demanding “Where are you going, Nova?!” Ouch… Ouch… Ouuuuuch!! Nova had had her legs knotted together for SO long that her feet had gone totally numb. They were now stinging as though they were being swarmed by fire-ants, and standing up so suddenly had completely infuriated her bladder. It was throbbing and pulsing and just SEARING, her sphincter erupting with intense pain. She put her hands against herself a second too late, and a spurt of warmth soaked into her underwear against her will. She hobbled around the car beside Emmett, whom was just pacing back and forth with his hands against his zip. “Ahhh— Gotta— Need some kinda…” Nova realized what the problem was, the side of the road was nothing but bare grass, no bushes or trees for him to use for privacy. Nova hadn’t really been THINKING too much about what— if anything— she’d use for cover. She’d only been thinking about peeing! “It’s alright,” Nova told him. “Just try to pretend all the other cars aren’t there…” That was the only thing she could come up with. It was what SHE was planning to do anyway. She doubted her bladder cared too much about the audience at this point anyway. “Wha—What if there’s a cop car?” Emmett asked. Of course he’d jump straight to predicting the worst possible outcome… Nova scanned the road as best she could, bouncing on her heels, just wishing she could tug her panties and GO already… “There aren’t any.” “… What about UNDERCOVER cop cars?” “I— I think there might be some lenience if it was an emergency?” Nova suggested. “It’s fine.” “I don’t kn—“ Emmett’s eyes widened and he immediately turned to face the grass, yanking his zip down loudly. Nova could only assume he’d just sprung a leak, and she felt dangerously close to having another one of those herself, so she pushed down her underwear and lifted the front of her skirt, positioning her hands. It happened IMMEDIATELY, a strong blast of pee started to douse the grass and a hazy feeling overtook her as she finally relaxed her bladder for the first time all day. “Ahhh…” She enjoyed the bliss of relief for several seconds before realizing that hers was the only stream erupting. Beside her, Emmett was fidgeting between his feet and whining in the back of his throat, clearly suffering an awful case of ‘stage-fright’. “Come on… Come on… Come on…” “It’s okay, Emmett…” Nova breathed out, trying to reassure him. But, it didn’t work. Emmett was utterly unable to pee, just kept checking behind himself and squirming. Nova was sure the hiss of her own stream was only making him more desperate… Talk about unfair… Maybe if this was anyone else, Nova wouldn’t care that much. She’d perhaps NOTICE that the other person was getting pee-shy, but since that had no affect on her OWN ability to empty her bladder, it wouldn’t matter. Unfortunately, the person struggling just HAD to be the one she was in love with, and she felt like she was torturing him by doing the thing HE needed to do so badly right beside him, while he was incapable of resolving his own problem. She’d gotten SOME out… She clenched up, her hands moving away from the ‘aiming’ position to press against her opening instead, trying to weld it closed again. She felt her fingers getting slightly damp, both from the residual liquid and from a final, protesting spurt as her bladder spasmed violently, raging against having its relief cut short. She squeezed and squeezed and squeezed until she was certain she’d repaired her floodgate enough to release her hands and tug her panties back up. “N—Nova?” Emmett asked. “Uh, did you—“ “You okay?” Nova interrupted. “N—No, I can’t pee,” Emmett said. “And I really have to go… But, did you not fi—“ Nova shook her head. “I got a bit of stage-fright too once I realized what I was doing,” she lied. “I can probably make it to a gas station now, though.” Emmett cringed as he reluctantly zipped back up after not letting out even a drop. “H—Hope I can wait a bit longer…” They got back into the car and Nova noticed Emmett did NOT put his seat-belt back on. Hopefully he would when they started moving again, but she understood why he wasn’t in a hurry to put a strap around his bladder again. “Nova, what the Hell?!” Samantha blurted out in a pained grunt. “Did you just pee like a guy?!” Now that she was a little LESS out of her mind with desperation, Nova was better able to process what she’d just done, and it embarrassed her a lot more than she’d predicted it would. “No, of course not.” “Sure looked like it!” “N—No… I just… Since I’m wearing a skirt, I just… Moved my underwear outta the way and spread my legs apart so I could go without showing anything.” That was mostly true, hopefully Samantha hadn’t been able to see how her stream hard arced OUT and away from her instead of just gushing straight down. “Ughhh,” Jessica moaned. “I shoulda worn a skirt today, too!” Shelby was actually as surprised as Samantha. She’d… Honestly always thought that SHE was the braver one in their friendship. But, Shelby would NEVER be able to work up the nerve to do that in front of Samantha, much less brush aside all her questioning so easily! “Alright,” Samantha said. “I was just wondering, ‘cause I’ve heard your friend likes to pee like a boy. Guess you aren’t AS disgusting as her.” Shelby tried to ignore her. It was just a word, and not even a TRUE word. It wasn’t disgusting to pee standing up. Emmett was basically her metric for determining what activities counted as ‘hygienic’ and he NEVER sat down to pee since toilet seats were covered in germs. Therefor, standing to pee did not mean she was gross. Samantha adjusted her position again, and Shelby could tell she’d started to tug at her seatbelt. Her feet were tapping loudly against the floor. “I mean, I get she doesn’t have a mom, so she’s got no idea how being a girl is supposed to work… But, like, I’d hope she’d figure it out eventually!” “Samantha!” Jessica’s mom snapped. “That’s way too far.” “She knows I’m joking,” Samantha said. “And I’m just trying to keep everyone distracted until we get to a bathroom.” Shelby WAS certainly distracted now. Anger displaced desperation as her dominant emotion. Yes, she didn’t have a mother. Her mother was killed by a drunk driver when she was just trying to go to the store! What kind of person made fun of someone for THAT?! Samantha was… Shelby didn’t think she was just a ‘bully’, THAT was why her taunting hurt so much worse than anyone else’s. What she did went beyond bullying and crossed over into the realm of abuse. Abusers didn’t listen to reason. It took a lot more than just words to get one to understand that their victim was done putting up with their crap. It was time for Shelby to fight dirty, that was the only language Samantha would understand. She just wasn’t sure what to do yet… Trying to think of a way to get back at Samantha occupied Shelby’s mind for a little while, but when the traffic finally started to clear up and they were at last able to move again, the resulting jolt to her bladder drew all of her energy back towards IT instead. She really should have joined Nova and Emmett when they’d gotten out of the car, to Hell with what Samantha would say. It wouldn’t matter if she made fun of her. Samantha would have even MORE reason to tease Shelby if she wet her pants. And Shelby was starting to worry that that was a distinct possibility. There were constant pangs, and her bladder felt like it was cramping up every few seconds. Like, its walls were squeezing in on their own accord, body trying to push all of the liquid out regardless of if she wanted it to or not. The dam constructed by her quivering holding muscles felt unstable and likely to crumble. Jessica’s constant whining about how close she was to peeing in her seat didn’t help at all. Nor did Emmett’s fidgeting, which occasionally caused him to jostle Shelby a little. What was he flailing around for? He’d gotten to pee already! And why was Nova still sitting so stiffly? Yeah, she wasn’t trying to squirm out of her own skin anymore, but she still looked horridly uncomfortable. Had Samantha gotten to her after a— “D—Do you see any signs for gas stations yet?” Nova asked suddenly. “I’m looking,” Jessica’s mom promised. “But, there’s nothing yet.” Shelby cupped her hands against herself, squeezing her thighs together. “You just went,” she said. “I couldn’t finish,” Nova whispered. “And Emmett wasn’t able to pee at all.” Shelby tightened her hold on her crotch, crossing her legs back and forth as best she could in her cramped position. Well, at least now she knew why her brother was still jiggling around so much… If she hadn’t been so overwhelmed by her own desperation, she may have considered teasing him a little. Nothing mean… Just, some light jabs about how HE’D locked up trying to pee on the side of a road while a GIRL had at least managed to do it for a few seconds. Not that she’d have that much room to talk, anyway. She’d been too intimidated to even TRY. And it hadn’t even had anything to do with being seen by the occupants of other vehicles, only by one particular occupant of the one she’d just left. If she just hadn’t allowed Samantha to intimidate her, then she wouldn’t be in so much discomfort now. She was angry with Samantha, but also angry with herself. At long last, they finally pulled into a gas station. Everyone was in a major hurry to get out. Emmett threw open the door on his side and struggled to his feet, hands clenched between his thighs. Shelby strained to crawl out after him, which forced her to actually MOVE for the first time in over two hours. She was not prepared for what that would do to her. Her bladder seemed to spring awake, immediately becoming even more agitated than it had been just a second before. The cramping and squeezing intensified to such a severe degree that she didn’t even have a chance to react to it, to clench her thighs tighter, to dig her hands in more firmly. As she stood up beside the car, a warm trail was wetly gliding down her legs, and more felt like it was right there at the edge of bursting forth. Shelby did not wait for the others before hurrying to the restrooms. She yanked open the door to the women’s and hurried inside to be met with… An absolutely revolting scene. It was bad even by gas station bathroom standards. The stall doors were all rusted, one of the sink faucets had been broken, and the whole room was coated with a visible layer of grime. Her first thought was that, if the men’s room wasn’t any better off, her brother was probably going to just wet his pants instead of using it. Her next was that SHE would rather wet her pants than sit down on one of the toilets here. She hadn’t even yet entered a stall and seen what she was up against, but KNEW it was bound to be just as awful— if not even worse— than the rest of this disgusting room. She went to a stall and cautiously pulled its door open, hoping for some kind of a miracle. But, it was even worse than she’d been expecting. Shelby wasn’t squeamish normally— Emmett flipped out about uncleanliness enough for the both of them, after all. But, this? This was too much even for her. She didn’t want ANY part of her skin to come into contact with that seat. And she didn’t HAVE to. She COULD stand and pee, and not have to touch a THING in here. But… Samantha… Samantha WAS really desperate to pee, so maybe she’d be too focused on her OWN bladder to care how Shelby was emptying HERS. In the time it took her to work up the nerve to unzip, she heard the door being opened again, followed by Jessica groaning. “Ugh, it’s DISGUSTING in here!” “You’re right,” Samantha said. “Let’s just pee and get out of here…” She heard two stalls being opened, followed by Jessica shrieking and Samantha groaning. “Ew, ew, ewwww!” Jessica exclaimed. Shelby tried to ignore them as she positioned her hands. Nerves tingled in her chest, but the desperation flaring up inside her bladder was even more pressing. She felt the heavy weight of urine shifting almost immediately, and then a strong stream was gushing out into the bowl of the nauseatingly grimy toilet. Wow, much better! The drop in pressure was intense and immediate, her bladder no longer cramping and straining, but slowly shrinking instead. It felt so good that she sighed out a throaty moan, continuing to push in her eagerness to be rid of the watery torment. She was occasionally splashing the toilet seat, since she hadn’t wanted to grab hold of it to lift it up. She didn’t care very much though, the seat was already a horror-show, a few MORE droplets wouldn’t even make a difference. Jessica had never seen anything so gross before! It turned her stomach just looking at it! She was certain she’d catch some form of the bubonic plague if she sat on that toilet, but she was ALSO certain that she was going to soak her pants if she didn’t! She turned about, hoping that this place had a seat-cover dispenser somewhere, but she didn’t see one. And when she heard Shelby’s release starting to hiss into the bowl, her bladder spasmed so hard that what felt like an ENORMOUS spurt of liquid warmed the space between her trembling thighs. How could Shelby make herself use the bathroom here?! Wasn’t she disgusted by it? Was she THAT desperate that it didn’t matter— That couldn’t have been it. Jessica was exploding and it still mattered a LOT to h— She glanced down and could see which direction Shelby’s feet were pointing in. Wait… So, Samantha was right? Shelby COULD pee like a guy? How did she do that? Maybe some kind of a funnel thingy? Jessica wished SHE had a funnel thingy! As it was, her hands just kept alternating between hesitantly palming her zipper and cramming back between her legs. Drips were continually seeping out of her, but she did not have it in her to actually GO here, not if she had to sit! Maybe Shelby would let her borrow the funnel… That would be gross too, since she’d just USED it, but the residue of one girl’s pee wasn’t AS bad as everything that lurked on that seat. She’d… She’d wait for Shelby to finish, and then she’d ask. Shelby might say no… Jessica hadn’t ever been all that NICE to her, so why would she share something with her? Jessica hoped Shelby wouldn’t use this as an opportunity to get back at her. Samantha was in another stall, just as repulsed as Jessica. She needed to go so badly that the button on her shorts felt like having a push-pin jammed into her bladder. She unfastened it, savoring the small amount of relief that brought her, but that was as far as she could make herself go. Her hands refused to grip her zipper, refused to move her one step closer to the moment where her skin would have to come into contact with that seat. She could just hover, but that had never ended well for her in the past. A lot of it always ended up going down one of her legs no matter how hard she tried to prevent it. In spite of how unusable the toilet was to her, Samantha’s bladder still recognized it as a place for relief. It was doing flips inside her, taut holding muscles flaring and trying their hardest to go loose. Her body was CONVINCED release was on the horizon, yet she had NO intention of peeing here. She just… She COULDN’T. She opened the stall and hobbled out, bladder even more bloated than it had been when she’d gone in. As she prepared to leave altogether, hoping to God she could withstand her urge until they reached their destination, she noticed Shelby, her shoes pointing TOWARDS the toilet rather than away from it. She really DID pee like a boy… Samantha wished she could do that… Well. Her BLADDER did, anyway. The rest of her still thought it was the weirdest thing she’d ever seen and wondered why Shelby always had to be strange. *** When Nova had seen the state of the women’s room, she’d just immediately turned around and headed out. The disgusting scene wasn’t devastating to her, since she’d been planning to stand while she peed anyway, but she doubted the men’s room would be much better, and didn’t need to be psychic to predict what that meant for Emmett. No way was he going to stay in a room like that for longer than five seconds, and judging by all the squirming he’d been doing, he’d need WAY longer than that to empty his bladder. Sure enough, he was just waiting outside, bouncing on his feet and crossing his legs back and forth. It would have been utterly adorable had Nova not been trying so hard not to copy him. The small bits of her burden that she was able to expel earlier didn’t feel like much anymore. Mere drops of the roaring ocean she’d been holding onto all day. “I take it the men’s room is disgusting too?” Emmett nodded, running one hand against his upper thigh as the other squeezed away between his legs. “I— This is— I know it’s stupid. I mean, I’m about to… Have an accident, but I—“ “I—It’s okay,” Nova said. “You said your therapist wants you to make small steps, right? This ISN’T a ‘small step’, so it’s fine if you can’t do i—“ “I’m bursting,” Emmett interrupted. That much was obvious… Nova certainly didn’t mind hearing him say it out loud though. She appreciated that he was being more open about needing to pee with her, if only because he knew she liked it. He was so cute when his voice cracked with panic, it always made her want to take care of him. “I know. And if it makes you feel better, the women’s is too gross for ME to use. Let’s go over to the bushes instead.” Emmett nodded, shaking. “I hope it lets me pee this time…” Nova hoped so too. If he didn’t go, she was likely going to force herself to stop midstream again. She wasn’t sure if her bladder could handle that a second time. Her urethra still stung a little from the first. The bushes were located directly behind the gas station building— Way more secluded and private than the barren road they’d tried to use earlier. Emmett unzipped himself and Nova tugged down her panties and moved her hands into position. Emmett actually started to pee first, bringing both of them immense relief. Nova unclenched and at last allowed her interrupted stream to resume. It was as though she’d hit the pause button on it earlier, because there was no slow build-up, she was immediately spraying at full force, ensuring that NONE of the first dribbles went down her legs, every drop gushed out and away from her like she wanted. Her shoulders drooped slightly as a shudder of pleasure tore through her. Ever since she’d realized that peeing was interesting to her, THIS became one of her favorite feelings. Letting it go after hours of forced restraint was amazing, and having her hands where they were sometimes meant she could do things that made it feel even better. Once, she’d managed to orgasm WHILE peeing, and before then she hadn’t even known it was POSSIBLE to feel that good. She was… Excited by all of this. She hadn’t been PLANNING on getting extremely turned on during a school field trip, but so many buttons were being pressed for her that she couldn’t help it. Emmett was making all those adorable sighing sounds, and when she surreptitiously glanced at his face, his expression was seriously cute, eyes shut, mouth hanging open, so relaxed… And she was desperately relieving herself right beside him, pleasure flowing through her and out of her. It just… It WAS hot, there was no way to get around that. But she WAS aware that she was in public. In a pretty secluded area, sure, but still… She needed to use her hands JUST for aiming, not for anything else, even if her body WANTED something else really bad. She was able to resist the temptation until she was finished, and hoped she’d have an opportunity to take care of her NEW need soon. She pulled up her panties and waited for Emmett to finish. He wouldn’t appreciate being left alone with no one on the lookout for potential witnesses— And Nova certainly didn’t MIND standing there as he got the remainder of his liquid drained. Emmett finally finished and zipped back up, she immediately took hold of his wrist and pulled him into a hug. “Ah— H—Hang on,” Emmett stammered. “I— I still need to use some hand sanitiz—“ Nova silenced him with a kiss, “Feel better now?” “Y—Yeah,” he said. *** Shelby shivered as the last of her pee finally plinked into the bowl. Ahhhh… What a relief! She felt lighter, almost as though she could float away. She exited the stall and saw Jessica standing outside it, her legs still coiled together, hands still wedged in between them, face filled with painful amounts of desperation. “Do you use a funnel?” Jessica demanded through agonized, shallow breaths. “H—Huh?” “You pee like a guy, I saw you!” Jessica said. “So, you have a funnel, right? Can I please, please borrow it? I don’t want to pee my pants!” Shelby looked away. “Um, I don’t use a funnel…” “Then, what do you use?” Jessica asked. “Please, just let me borrow it, I promise I’ll never tease you ever again if you just—“ “I don’t have anything you can borrow,” Shelby told her. She didn’t have anything left to say to Jessica, so she just left the room. Samantha was right by the door, looking just as frantic and needful as Jessica had. Her legs were ankles were locked together, knees rubbing, hands squeezing with all their might against her crotch. “Shelby, how did you do that?” Samantha asked. “Do what?” Shelby asked, walking past her, trying to ignore her. She felt so good now that her bladder was squeezed dry that she wouldn’t allow Samantha to make fun of her over it. SHE’D gotten to relieve herself, that was all that mattered. “You really DID pee like a guy,” Samantha said. “How did— Wait, come back!” Shelby paused, but only for a second. “Teach me how!” Shelby turned back to face Samantha properly. “Yeah, sure. I was just thinking about how much I’d love to teach someone who makes fun of me for losing my mother how to pee standing up!” “Look, I’m sorry—“ “No, you’re not,” Shelby said simply. “And, what? After saying crap about me for standing to pee, all of the sudden you want to do it too?” “I d—don’t want to sit down h—“ “Figure it out yourself,” Shelby said. “But—“ “If our situations were reversed, would you help ME?” Shelby asked. When Samantha didn’t respond, she spat, “Yeah. That’s what I figured.” She didn’t even feel like she was being mean to Samantha, there was no guilt in ignoring her request. Samantha had brought this upon herself, and Shelby was under no obligation to offer any assistance. She’d taught Nova how to aim because Nova wasn’t an asshole to her all of the time. Samantha WAS, so now she got to stew with her OWN options. She could sit down on one of the nauseating toilet seats, try to figure out another way to pee HERSELF, or have an accident. Those were the choices. Shelby didn’t HAVE to give a different one. Besides, Samantha was the one who said standing to pee made someone less of a girl. She shouldn’t WANT to do it. Shelby went back to the car. Nova and Emmett were already there, both looking way more relaxed… Save for the massive blush on Nova’s face. “What happened?” Shelby asked, glancing surreptitiously down at her friend’s lap, searching for wet spots. Nova didn’t appear to have leaked visibly, though. *** Jessica kept standing in the women’s room, bouncing up and down in frantic indecision. She couldn’t stand like Shelby, and she couldn’t sit down and, above all, she couldn’t HOLD it anymore! She needed SOME way to get all this pee out! She supposed she could just hover, but that usually got messy, and she was scared about splash-back from the disgusting toilet. What other choices did she even HAVE, though?! Shelby’s brother was, like, a really major germaphobe. Jessica hadn’t ever talked to him that much, but he seemed to just always have hand sanitizer with him, and he’d practically had a heart attack when he was supposed to dissect a frog in class once. Samantha talked about it sometimes, she said he was a “complete head-case” and needed to “spend a few months in a padded cell until he learns how to be normal”. Jessica didn’t think it was as bad as all THAT, but probably bad ENOUGH that he wouldn’t be able to use the toilet here— Even though he COULD stand up! And he’d been willing to at least TRY to go on the side of the road. So, if he wasn’t STILL holding it, then he’d probably peed outside. Could Jessica do THAT? She never had before. If there wasn’t a toilet, she always held it in even when she was bursting. Someone might see— Samantha might see! Samantha would do that thing where she wrinkled up her nose and told Jessica she was immature, wondering aloud why they even hung out together. If… If Jessica could find a way to do it secretly, without Samantha noticing, then… Ohhh, she needed to just go outside! She limped out of the restroom, her bladder furiously protesting against every step. She saw Samantha pacing back and forth to the side of the gas station. Samantha’s eyes met hers and Jessica tried to straighten herself out. If she made it look like she’d just peed in the bathroom, Samantha would have no reason to think she was going to pee outdoors. She still needed some kind of excuse, though. Some explanation for why she wasn’t going back to the car. “I— Uh— I have a rock in my shoe,” she said, and it sounded lame to her own ears, but Samantha barely gave her a second glance, instead continuing to hobble back and forth, taking the smallest steps imaginable. “G—Gotta get it out.” Jessica hurried back behind the building where, to her GREAT relief, she found a smattering of bushes, if she went behind them and crouched down, she’d basically be invisible! Jessica worked her button and zip with a flurry of movement, then eased herself into the foliage. At last, she shoved her pants down and squatted. Right away, a stream of pure bliss erupted forth from her, the heavy stream cutting into the dirt. Her release spattered and hissed and she had to try very hard not to moan or sigh at the deliriously good feeling. Samantha might hear that, after all. *** Jessica returned to the car a few minutes later, finally tapped out. When her Mom got back from paying for gas and Samantha climbed back in, they were off again. Everyone was feeling much, muuuuch better. Save for one girl, anyway. Samantha hadn’t been able to bring herself to use the bathroom there. The idea of going in the bushes was so mortifying that it had barely even crossed her mind. After several minutes of restless pacing in front of the restrooms, she’d finally gone back in and claimed a stall, deciding that she could figure out how to use the toilet standing up by HERSELF. So, she’d yanked her shorts and panties down and let them bunch up around her ankles, then she’d just… Stood there, trembling with desperation, and no fucking CLUE of how she might alleviate it. Samantha had several brothers, and she’d seen quite a few of them stand to pee before. It looked REALLY simple when they did it. No need for any kind of instruction, just point and shoot. How the Hell was she supposed to do this when she didn’t have anything to grab onto and aim?! If she hadn’t SEEN Shelby doing it, she wouldn’t think it was even possible. But, clearly it WAS possible, and the only problem was that she didn’t know HOW. She wondered if she was just supposed to… Like… Straddle the toilet, one foot planted on either side of the bowl. But then her legs would be right up against the gross thing, and Shelby hadn’t been doing it that way. Samantha had seen where her feet were, they were in FRONT of the toilet, about where she’d figure a guy’s feet would be. So, that wasn’t it. There must have been some way she could hold onto the spot where her pee came out of that would allow her to aim it. Struggling, completely out of her depth, she put a hand against her labia and spread them slightly. She did not feel confident at all, but she did feel extremely close to urinating all over the place if she didn’t at least TRY to get it into the toilet. Hoping for the best, she told her body it was time to open the floodgate. It stayed shut for a few seconds, she was most definitely NOT used to allowing her pee to gush out in this position. She was bursting though, so it didn’t take TOO long for it to finally start. And, when it started, rather than liquid spraying out and into the toilet, warmth trickled down her legs. There was zero arc to her stream, every drop rushing straight downwards. Immediately, Samantha panicked, and she kept adjusting her grip on herself, trying to yank or pull somewhere that would change the angle of her release, but nothing she did helped. So, instead she had to direct all her energy into just making it STOP. She grabbed her crotch firmly with both hands, bending forwards, wriggling from side to side and bouncing. Now that she’d consciously TOLD her bladder that it could finally empty, it protested as hard as it could as she tried to rip its relief back away. She barely managed to cork herself shut again, and then just stood there, trembling, unwilling to move to pull her shorts back up. When she’d finally recovered enough to make herself presentable again, she shuddered when she zipped up, the sound had a gruesome finality to it. She was going to have to hold it for the rest of the drive. It was all Shelby’s fault, too. So, that was why she was now back in the car, honestly feeling even MORE desperate than she would have felt if she hadn’t peed at all! She had NEVER stopped midstream before, and had had NO idea that it hurt so damn badly! Her middle was still spasming with displeasure, the bumps in the road adding to the pressure. It felt like her bladder was getting around. She turned to Jessica, who looked so aggravatingly COMFORTABLE. “I can not BELIEVE you actually peed there.” “I— I really had to go…” Jessica mumbled. Samantha hadn’t caught her watering the bushes, but was apparently going to shame her anyway. “So do I!” Samantha said. “But, I’m HOLDING it until I find a PROPER place.” She groaned, yanking hard on her seat-belt. “Aren’t we there YET?” “About one more hour,” Jessica’s mom called. She didn’t sound very sympathetic. SHE’D said that Samantha should have just used the bathroom if she’d needed it that badly. Samantha was in an atrocious mood now, lashing out at EVERYONE regardless of if they spoke to her or not. She was most furious at Shelby of course. It was because of HER that she was still waiting. “See if I ever do YOU a favor again…” “You’ve never done me a favor BEFORE,” Shelby said. “Shut up,” Samantha grouched. She was bucking against her clenched hands, trying to ignore how horridly damp her shorts felt. It was just sweat, she told herself. Nothing but sweat. “Ah— How much longer!?” “Samantha, you should have just used the toilet,” Jessica said timidly. “E—Even Emmett did it, and he’s—“ “Easy for HIM, he can just STAND!” “A—Actually, he flipped out and pissed on a bush,” Shelby corrected. “I didn’t ‘flip out’!” Emmett said. “I walked in, saw the place was a trashfire, and left.” “Shut up!” Samantha yelled. Everyone was getting on her nerves, she didn’t want to hear anyone’s voices. It was too distracting! She needed to focus everything she had on the simple task of not peeing… Please, please, just don’t pee! “Going in the bushes is easier for him, too!” “Samantha,” Jessica’s mom admonished. “Stop shouting at everyone. It was your decision not to go at the gas station, that’s no one else’s fault.” Oh, but it WAS. It was Shelby’s fault. Shelby could have easily just TOLD her how to stand, and none of this would be happening. Her fault. HER fault! The next several minutes were Hell. Samantha was grinding into her seat, rocking against her hands and clenching her eyes closed. She could not BELIEVE she needed to go to the bathroom this badly! She’d had emergencies in the past— Two bathrooms shared between herself and all her siblings meant long lines were inevitable— but she’d never endured anything as extreme as this. It had been YEARS since she’d last honestly thought she could have an accident, and today she was feeling like it could happen at any second. They continued to drive, Samantha whimpering and fidgeting and occasionally even leaking. She was mortified when she felt wet heat gush into her palms, but she couldn’t stop it from happening. She just had to do whatever it took to avoid a full-blown soaking, and she was rapidly running out of things she COULD do to prevent it. All her squirming and writhing was barely having an effect, all her clenching and squeezing hardly did anything! Her bladder was as full as full could get. At one point, she’d just unbuttoned her shorts since the thing was digging into her too much, and when she did THAT she was able to feel how brutally hard her lower stomach had gotten. It was like it was made of stone, and when she looked at it she swore it was curving a little too. She was so desperate that it was making her look distended. Even as Samantha moaned and frantically moved around in an attempt to stave off her flood, Shelby couldn’t feel much sympathy. She supposed she’d feel bad for Jessica’s mom if the car seat got drenched, but Samantha? She had brought this on herself. Maybe Shelby would be able to dig up SOME empathy for her if there had been zero opportunities for relief during the entire trip, but since there HAD been one and Samantha had opted not to take advantage of it, there was really ZERO reason to pity her. Samantha had been nothing but a jerk to Shelby since the day they’d met, so if anything Shelby felt somewhat entertained by the spectacle she’d allowed herself to become. And then, Samantha informed Shelby that, actually, this was HER fault. Shelby stifled a laugh. “I forgot that I forced you back into the car before you could use the toilet.” “You KNOW that’s not what I meant…” Shelby rolled her eyes. If Samantha had been nicer to her in the past, then she really WOULD have taught her to go standing. Or at least TRIED to. But, instead Samantha had made fun of her for losing a parent, and said that it was why she was ‘bad’ at being a girl. It was sort of mind-boggling that Samantha wasn’t able to figure out simple cause-and-effect. Samantha twisted and turned, bouncing up and down, straining every muscle she had as she groaned. “Ohhh, aren’t we there YET?” “I’ll TELL you when we’re there,” Jessica’s mom said. “I understand you need the girls’ room very badly, but I’m getting you there as fast as I can.” “Hurryyyy…” Samantha begged. This was so embarrassing, letting everyone in the car know that she was close to peeing her pants. But, the only thing WORSE would be actually peeing her pants in front of everyone, so BEGGING it was. Jessica’s mom sighed again. “If you can’t hold it, then—“ “I’m not gonna have an accident!” “I wasn’t suggesting that… Jessica, look around and see if you can find Samantha something she can go in, alright?” “WHAT?!” Samantha shrieked. She couldn’t be serious! How would that even work! She couldn’t USE a bottle, and there was a GUY here, and— And she was trickling into her panties, wetting herself, but not at the full-force she NEEDED to. “J—Jessica, please hurry!” Jessica glanced down at her feet. There was a bag there, containing snacks her mom had packed for the trip. There were plastic bowls in there, and if she took the food out of one then IT could be useful. Samantha wasn’t gonna like it, though… Jessica reached into the bag and grabbed one of the bowls. She peeled off the lid and removed the grapes stored there, just tossing them back into the bag on their own. “Here,” she thrust the bowl at Samantha. Samantha’s eyes widened at the sight of it. She was not going to pee in a plastic Tupperware container, she was NOT. A long spurt hissed out, warning her that she could either pee in the bowl or pee in her pants. “Give it!” Samantha tore one hand away from her groin and gripped the bowl. She unlatched her seat-belt, immediately feeling a slight taste of relief that made her want more. She stood up as best she could and reached for her zipper. “Nnnnhhh…” her hand froze. “Nobody look!” Shelby could barely believe what was happening. Prim, prissy Samantha was about to take a leak in the car! Talk about ‘unladylike’! She’d been amused by seeing her bully face SOME form of comeuppance, and she thought this might even be more ‘humbling’ for her than a full-on accident! “Don’t look!” Samantha repeated. “ESPECIALLY you, Emmett!” “Why WOULD I?” Emmett asked. “I HAVE a girlf—“ “Nova, cover his eyes!” Samantha barked. Nova sighed, “They’re already shut—“ “COVER THEM.” “Fine…” Samantha finally unzipped and pulled down her shorts, then cautiously sat over the bowl. She expected to have a little trouble getting started, given the circumstances, but the instant she felt the bowl beneath her, she was gushing a strong, violent stream. It rattled loudly against the plastic, both notifying her that she was hitting her target AND humiliating her since she knew everyone else could hear the hiss as clearly as she could. She felt equal parts mortification and relief. Her bloated bladder was loving every second of this, but the rest of her was so ashamed that she could hardly think. Again, she mentally cursed Shelby. This was her doing, if she’d simply done as she’d been asked, none of this would have ever come to pass. Samantha WOULDN’T be hovering over a bowl, unleashing a tidal wave in front of everyone. When she finally finished, more than a minute later, she was appalled by how much she’d filled the bowl. She’d nearly overflowed it, pale yellow liquid brimming around the top. Jessica, still not facing her, stuck out a hand containing the bowl’s lid. Samantha hurriedly latched it on, shuddering at the thought that she’d need to empty it out somewhere later. She stood, pulled her pants back up, then shamefully notified everyone that she was done. She then proceeded to spend the remainder of the ride trying to think of how to get back at Shelby.

(This one was commissioned. If you'd like a story of your own, feel free to DM me.) *** The teacher leading this overnight field trip had claimed that he selected the groups based on how well he’d noticed students getting along during school hours. But, Shelby wasn’t that sure she believed him. Because, while Nova WAS her best friend and she DID love her brother, the other two members of her group were the last people she’d EVER want to spend time with. The feeling was more than mutual, of course. Samantha and Jessica didn’t like being around Shelby any more than Shelby liked being around them. Unfortunately, they were now about to spend several hours trapped in a car together. Jessica’s mom was one of the chaperones for this trip, and had agreed to drive the students whom were part of Jessica’s group in order to free up space on the bus. Shelby thought she’d prefer the noisy bus to being stuck in a confined space with Samantha and Jessica. Not that she could actually SAY that in front of one of their mothers. At least Nova and Emmett were going to be with her as well. That DID mean the car was sort of crowded, though. Shelby was wedged between Emmett and Nova in the very back seat, while Samantha and Jessica had plenty of room to themselves in the middle. It wouldn’t have been that terrible, but any time Shelby tried to speak to HER friends, Samantha would turn around to glare at her. “Jessica and I are having a conversation, could you please stop talking with your annoying voice?” That was one of Samantha’s favorite things to say, she HATED Shelby’s voice for whatever reason. Shelby didn’t really understand why. In fact, she USED to think her voice was nice since she’d always gotten picked to sing in school plays back during elementary school. To her, it didn’t sound like her voice had changed THAT significantly as she’d gotten older, but maybe it had. She was sort of irritated with herself for even THINKING about that so much to begin with. She had no idea why, but Samantha had a way of SERIOUSLY getting into her head. Not many people could do that. She’d been insulted and called mean things by bullies in the past, and Samantha was the only one who’d ever been able to cut her deeply and make her feel like shit. Maybe that was because Samantha was a girl? Everyone else who’d ever picked on her had been a guy. Shelby knew how to handle guys. She knew what retorts to use against them to make them knock it off. Shelby had a suspicion that tiny dick jokes weren’t going to faze Samantha very much. The WAY Samantha picked on her differed from what guys tended to do as well. Samantha was more… meticulous. She zeroed in on anything she noticed that could be hurtful to Shelby and then refuse to let up about it for weeks at a time. And, sometimes what she said wouldn’t even be a blunt insult, but something more coded. She’d often make a comment that sounded almost NICE, the real intent only noticeable by Shelby herself and not by anyone else who’d overheard. Things like “Hey, your hair actually looks good today for once!” Whatever the reason, Samantha’s taunts tended to stick with Shelby even when she knew that they shouldn’t. They made her second-guess herself, and sometimes even feel ashamed of things that had once been a source of pride for her. Like that day in the restroom… Shelby had never wanted any of her classmates to find out that she peed standing up, she knew a lot of them would think it was weird. But, the things Samantha had said about it, and then bringing her mother into it to explain that she just didn’t know ‘how’ to be a girl… To her complete dismay, Shelby had been having trouble standing to pee lately. She hadn’t forgotten HOW or anything, when she did it, it worked as well as it ever had. But, she felt… Off about it, like this act of ‘rebellion’ was supposed to be off limits to her for a REASON. Like she wasn’t just going against the grain and doing her own thing, but instead doing something really wrong. She was aware that was idiotic, particularly since she couldn’t put into words WHY it would be ‘wrong’, and was merely repeating Samantha’s statements to herself— Statements that she knew she shouldn’t even give a second’s thought to. If Samantha hadn’t brought up Mom, Shelby was sure she wouldn’t have dwelled on it so much. But, since Samantha HAD done that, Shelby couldn’t stop thinking about it, and if Mom would be disturbed by Shelby’s ‘talent’ if she’d been around to find out about it. It was that asinine worry which had been causing Shelby to struggle. She’d head to the toilet and get ready to pee standing up, and have a very difficult time relaxing her body enough to actually GO. She still managed to get the flow started sometimes, but far more often she’d be forced to give up and just sit down instead. The most annoying bathroom trips were the ones in which she was able to START peeing standing up, only for the stream to randomly cut off before she was done when she began to stress out again. That always really hurt! Her bladder would roll over inside her, and her holding muscles would basically catch fire. Even if she hadn’t been desperate before, if her relief was interrupted, she’d suddenly feel as though she was about to pop, scrambling to sit down so that she could hopefully finish up. Shelby wished she could just FORGET about Samantha’s stupid comments. Samantha’s only goal in life was, as far as Shelby could tell, just to make other people feel bad. As many as she possibly could. She was just mean for the sake of being mean, and Shelby shouldn’t let that get to her! She certainly shouldn’t let it make it hard to pee! She also shouldn’t just follow Samantha’s order to stay quiet through the entirety of this car ride. In fact, she should talk LOUDER just to spite her! Shelby tried to think of something to talk about and, unfortunately, only one topic came to mind right away. Perhaps she shouldn’t have spent the last few minutes thinking about her newfound urinary difficulty. Focusing on the subject of pee had been rather suggestive to her bladder, and the pee she’d had at home that morning now felt like it had been a little too long ago. Her bladder was tingling in a way that was both utterly annoying and completely impossible to ignore. This was not an emergency, she could definitely hold it in for a bit longer, but now that she’d NOTICED the growing pressure it became the only thing she could feel. She shifted slightly, adjusting her position in an attempt to shift the weight within her bladder. The tingling faded away for a second, but then came back just as strong as before. “How long have we been driving?” She asked. The drive was supposed to be around four hours. Nova looked at her watch. “About thirty minutes.” Shelby frowned, unsure if her bladder would be willing to tolerate it for that long. Her need to empty it was only going to increase with time. It WAS only increasing now. She swore the severity felt worse than it had a couple minutes ago. “O—Okay,” she said. It was a long drive and, she knew that by the end of it she wouldn’t be the ONLY one in need of a toilet break. Maybe they’d even stop somewhere once they got to the half-way point. Once EVERYONE needed to go, it would only make sense. Beside her, Nova was looking at her watch in dismay. To her, it had felt like they’d been in this car WAY longer than just thirty minutes. But, that was probably just because time was moving at a snail’s pace for her, each minute stretching itself out to an absurd degree. All thanks to a very stupid mistake Nova had made earlier that morning. Namely, she’d forgotten to pee before leaving her house, and then she hadn’t had time to use the bathroom at school before she had to get into this car. Which meant she was now holding in everything that had accumulated in her bladder during the night, which she was beginning to realize was an awful lot. It was so much that she didn’t understand how she could have neglected the toilet while she’d been getting ready for school. She’d been sitting with her legs crossed ever since the drive had begun, doing her best to simply squeeze them together rather than bounce them around and make her problem obvious. It was sort of working, but now one of her feet was beginning to go numb from the lack of circulation. What Nova really wanted was to ask for a stop, but she knew it hadn’t been long enough yet. Doubtless, she was the only one that needed to pee yet, and she didn’t think many of the others would be willing to pull over just for her. She just had to hold off until more people needed to go. Which, she hoped, would be soon. As more time passed, and every bump in the road made Nova feel like her bladder was being impaled, she started to glance around the car for signs that someone else was starting to get desperate. She was pretty good at noticing Emmett’s ‘tells’, so she mostly focused on him. She waited for him to tug at his bangs, or tap his fingers against the tops of his knees. He ALWAYS did that when his bladder was getting full. He wasn’t now. Nova glanced at Shelby, but she wasn’t squirming, just staring ahead and occasionally sighing, most likely growing bored listening to Samantha and Jessica’s conversation. She didn’t appear to need the toilet either. Nova couldn’t get a very good view of Samantha and Jessica up ahead of her, but they didn’t seem to be fidgeting around, so Nova accepted that she was going to have to keep waiting. She seriously didn’t want to, however. Her lower stomach felt heavy and actually a little bit bloated. She thought that, if she were at home and experiencing this degree of need, it might be sort of fun in a way. She’d know that she could put a stop to her discomfort any time she wanted to, and that there was no real danger of having an accident. But, since she was actually just trapped somewhere without a toilet, this was all far more stressful. She didn’t KNOW how long she was going to have to wait, and if it turned out to be TOO long… She’d go right where she was sitting, pee soaking the back of her skirt and puddling in her seat. Shelby and Emmett would be nice about it, but the others wouldn’t. Samantha would mock her ruthlessly, and Jessica and her mom would likely BOTH freak out over the soiled seat. Nova couldn’t let that happen. She HAD to keep it in. The constant, tense squeezing of her legs seemed to be working to plug her closed so far, but with more liquid being pumped into her bladder every few minutes and every speed-bump causing her abdomen to cramp… She hoped the stop came soon… Shelby was struggling not to ask Nova for the time again. She doubted they were much closer yet, anyway. She was frustrated with how rapidly her bladder was filling up. Just, being stuck in a car with nowhere to go was making the need to go worse. The vehicle felt really constraining, like a prison. Being wedged in between two people didn’t help with that. Add onto that how taut her seatbelt was over her sore lower stomach and it was getting really hard not to squirm. She was so focused on the effort it took not to wriggle around that she failed to notice when the light they were approaching turned red. Jessica’s mom hit the brakes and Shelby’s seat-belt tightened up over her bladder, causing an uncomfortable jolt to shoot straight through it. Instinctively, she lifted one of her feet up into the seat with her, trying to calm her urgency down by pushing her knee to her chest and rocking against her heel. Ah, she was starting to get kinda desperate… She needed that stop to come really soon! Didn’t anyone else need to go yet? Shelby could barely find a comfortable position anymore, she kept yanking at her seat-belt and shifting, but none of it made her bladder feel any better. She glanced around, and was easily able to deduce that Emmett did NOT need to pee yet. She’d seen her brother desperate so many times that she knew exactly what to look for, so she was certain he was fine now. Nova looked a little tense. So, it was possible that SHE needed to go, but since she wasn’t moving around Shelby wasn’t sure. Samantha and Jessica were still chattering, nothing their voices denoted any discomfort. Shelby was on her own. She was going to need to wait this out a little longer. About an hour later, Nova was getting generally scared. The last speed-bump they’d hit had been absolute HELL on her. Her bladder had gotten bounced so violently that she swore the pee splashed up to her throat. She was squirming more obviously by then, she just couldn’t HELP it. Her options were to either wriggle around or have an accident and she KNEW which one she preferred. She’d even started to cup herself, hands pushed against her crotch, pressing into her skirt. Her urethra was aching with the need to just RELAX for a second. Just one second would be Heavenly. A few droplets of her burden being set free to make the rest of it a little easier to hang onto. But, she knew what would happen if she allowed ANY of it to come out. It would feel just TOO good, and she wouldn’t be able to resist letting the rest go. One drop, and her dam would collapse, drenching her panties, skirt and the leather seat underneath her. So, she just kept squirming and clutching, begging herself to please, please hang on. She accidentally kicked Shelby a couple times since they were so close together, and she hadn’t been able to help THAT either. She’d just apologized and tried to scoot further away. But, Shelby had kicked HER once as well, so they were even. After that, Shelby had just opted to pull both her feet up and squeeze them against her crotch. She was getting worried as well. Their destination was still so far away, and the road stretching out ahead of them seemed endless. She doubted she could make it to the end. Emmett was having trouble as well, his own bladder acting up and forcing him to move. His seat-belt was not helping at all. It wrapped around his bladder no matter which direction he squirmed in or how hard he tried to pull away from it. Ahead of them, Samantha and Jessica were both jiggling in place. Their conversation had dried up, which was the exact opposite of what had happened to their bladders. Jessica was being perhaps the most dramatic about it out of all of them— Even compared to Nova whom hadn’t peed a drop all day. Jessica was whimpering and moaning, hands digging between her quivering thighs as she writhed against them. According to her, she was going to pee her pants in about thirty seconds. But, she’d been saying that for about ten minutes now so it was difficult to believe her. “Calm down,” Samantha admonished her. She was gripping the edge of her seat, her feet tapping frantically and her teeth grinding. “I need to use the bathroom too, but I’m not flipping out over it.” “B—But, I need to go so bad…” Jessica said. She sort of sounded like she was about to cry. She sort of FELT like she was about to cry. She didn’t think she’d ever fantasized so much about simply being allowed to sit down on a toilet before. This was the emergency to end all emergencies. “I’ve never had to pee this bad!” “You say that every time you have to go,” Samantha rolled her eyes. She tugged at her seat-belt, trying to pry it away from her bladder to no avail. “Just be patient. I can wait just fine, so you can too.” She turned slightly to the three in the back. “ALL of you can.” Nova didn’t think she COULD. It had been WELL over half a day since she’d last relieved her bladder and it NEEDED to come out NOW. She’d been the first one to speak up about her need. She’d tried so hard NOT to be, but the pressure she was under was excruciatingly severe and she couldn’t stop herself. Even if she was the only one that needed to go, she needed to go SO bad that they just HAD to pull over for her! She’d felt like a fool when, immediately after she’d confessed her own need, Shelby did the same thing. “Yeah, I’m bursting too.” Followed by Jessica, crying out “Ah, finally! I didn’t wanna be the only one to ask!” Then Samantha, “I could use a stop…” Emmett HADN’T said anything, but his urgency had become clear enough when he’d started to mess with his hair and fight with his seat-belt. Nova wasn’t sure if his silence on the matter was due to his shyness, or because he just had no intention of using the bathroom at whatever grody gas station they happened to find. That was actually the crux of their current predicament; They couldn’t actually FIND anywhere to stop. Nova had picked the worst possible moment to finally voice her need, only doing so minutes before they suddenly found themselves caught in a traffic jam. Apparently, there had been a wreck— Nova tried to avoid thinking of it as an ‘accident’ lest she tempt fate too harshly— and they were going to be stuck for a while. Nova bounced her knees as they crawled forwards, straining to see any signs indicating an exit, indicating relief… She didn’t see anything, and she strained harder against her clenching hands, shifting her hips around before settling into a position where one of her knees was crossed over the other. Shelby was sure she had it the worst of all of them, if only because she had so little room to wriggle around in. Coiling up in her seat and rocking against her ankles was really ALL she could do. She couldn’t put her feet back down on the floor without them immediately flailing around and kicking both of the people beside her, and… From the looks of Nova, being kicked TOO hard would probably cause an accident— Possibly multiple if the sound of Nova’s spray proved to be too much for the rest of them to handle. Jessica’s mom was sympathetic, at least. Or, at any rate, she definitely didn’t want to deal with five wet car seats, anyway. She kept apologizing and encouraging them all to hang on, insisting that traffic would HAVE to clear up soon. But then, it seemed she was a bit TOO desperate to ensure at least ONE seat stayed dry, because she said “Emmett… It looks like you’re having an emergency too. If you want, you can just get out and go on the side of the road…” Jessica moaned that that was ‘sooooo unfair!’ And Samantha stated that it was both ‘unfair’ and ‘disgusting’. Shelby and Nova both stayed quiet. Shelby could do that too! She could do it almost as easily as Emmett could! If Samantha weren’t there, Shelby just knew she’d blurt out “M—Me too!” And then go to JOIN him! She doubted the strange nervousness could lock her bladder up NOW, not when she was THIS desperate to let it out! But Samantha WAS there, and if Shelby gave her irrefutable confirmation that she did, in fact, pee like a guy sometimes… Samantha would say something so cruel that it would stick in Shelby’s head forever. Nova also knew that SHE could join Emmett. At that point, she didn’t even think she CARED about exposing her ‘talent’ to a few new people. Even if they got weird about it, it was better than soaking herself. But, Emmett was shaking his head, biting his lip. “I— I don’t want to be mean to them…” he said. “I’ll just—“ “It’s okay!” Nova interrupted frantically. She… She was going to do this, but she wouldn’t do it alone. Going on the side of the road with no one there beside her would be frightening. If Emmett was there, she’d feel safe. She’d feel safe and, more importantly, she’d feel so fucking relieved… “It’s okay!” Emmett’s hands ceased tugging at his seat-belt and went instead to the latch. There was an uncharacteristic amount of eagerness in his expression, considering he was about to pee outdoors— Something he’d always considered unsanitary. He really DID need to— “No, it’s not!” Jessica exclaimed. “If I can’t pee, he shouldn’t get to go, either!” Emmett stopped what he was doing. “I— I’ll hold it…” He bounced his knees for a moment before rubbing his legs together. “I’ll—“ He shut his eyes, drumming his fingers against his thighs. “I— Ah! I can’t—“ He went back to the seat-belt latch and clicked it, one hand moving to his crotch immediately after as he grabbed the door with the other. “I’m sorry— I just—“ He scrambled out of the car. Nova pulled her OWN door open to follow him, ignoring Jessica’s shouts about ‘fairness’ and Samantha demanding “Where are you going, Nova?!” Ouch… Ouch… Ouuuuuch!! Nova had had her legs knotted together for SO long that her feet had gone totally numb. They were now stinging as though they were being swarmed by fire-ants, and standing up so suddenly had completely infuriated her bladder. It was throbbing and pulsing and just SEARING, her sphincter erupting with intense pain. She put her hands against herself a second too late, and a spurt of warmth soaked into her underwear against her will. She hobbled around the car beside Emmett, whom was just pacing back and forth with his hands against his zip. “Ahhh— Gotta— Need some kinda…” Nova realized what the problem was, the side of the road was nothing but bare grass, no bushes or trees for him to use for privacy. Nova hadn’t really been THINKING too much about what— if anything— she’d use for cover. She’d only been thinking about peeing! “It’s alright,” Nova told him. “Just try to pretend all the other cars aren’t there…” That was the only thing she could come up with. It was what SHE was planning to do anyway. She doubted her bladder cared too much about the audience at this point anyway. “Wha—What if there’s a cop car?” Emmett asked. Of course he’d jump straight to predicting the worst possible outcome… Nova scanned the road as best she could, bouncing on her heels, just wishing she could tug her panties and GO already… “There aren’t any.” “… What about UNDERCOVER cop cars?” “I— I think there might be some lenience if it was an emergency?” Nova suggested. “It’s fine.” “I don’t kn—“ Emmett’s eyes widened and he immediately turned to face the grass, yanking his zip down loudly. Nova could only assume he’d just sprung a leak, and she felt dangerously close to having another one of those herself, so she pushed down her underwear and lifted the front of her skirt, positioning her hands. It happened IMMEDIATELY, a strong blast of pee started to douse the grass and a hazy feeling overtook her as she finally relaxed her bladder for the first time all day. “Ahhh…” She enjoyed the bliss of relief for several seconds before realizing that hers was the only stream erupting. Beside her, Emmett was fidgeting between his feet and whining in the back of his throat, clearly suffering an awful case of ‘stage-fright’. “Come on… Come on… Come on…” “It’s okay, Emmett…” Nova breathed out, trying to reassure him. But, it didn’t work. Emmett was utterly unable to pee, just kept checking behind himself and squirming. Nova was sure the hiss of her own stream was only making him more desperate… Talk about unfair… Maybe if this was anyone else, Nova wouldn’t care that much. She’d perhaps NOTICE that the other person was getting pee-shy, but since that had no affect on her OWN ability to empty her bladder, it wouldn’t matter. Unfortunately, the person struggling just HAD to be the one she was in love with, and she felt like she was torturing him by doing the thing HE needed to do so badly right beside him, while he was incapable of resolving his own problem. She’d gotten SOME out… She clenched up, her hands moving away from the ‘aiming’ position to press against her opening instead, trying to weld it closed again. She felt her fingers getting slightly damp, both from the residual liquid and from a final, protesting spurt as her bladder spasmed violently, raging against having its relief cut short. She squeezed and squeezed and squeezed until she was certain she’d repaired her floodgate enough to release her hands and tug her panties back up. “N—Nova?” Emmett asked. “Uh, did you—“ “You okay?” Nova interrupted. “N—No, I can’t pee,” Emmett said. “And I really have to go… But, did you not fi—“ Nova shook her head. “I got a bit of stage-fright too once I realized what I was doing,” she lied. “I can probably make it to a gas station now, though.” Emmett cringed as he reluctantly zipped back up after not letting out even a drop. “H—Hope I can wait a bit longer…” They got back into the car and Nova noticed Emmett did NOT put his seat-belt back on. Hopefully he would when they started moving again, but she understood why he wasn’t in a hurry to put a strap around his bladder again. “Nova, what the Hell?!” Samantha blurted out in a pained grunt. “Did you just pee like a guy?!” Now that she was a little LESS out of her mind with desperation, Nova was better able to process what she’d just done, and it embarrassed her a lot more than she’d predicted it would. “No, of course not.” “Sure looked like it!” “N—No… I just… Since I’m wearing a skirt, I just… Moved my underwear outta the way and spread my legs apart so I could go without showing anything.” That was mostly true, hopefully Samantha hadn’t been able to see how her stream hard arced OUT and away from her instead of just gushing straight down. “Ughhh,” Jessica moaned. “I shoulda worn a skirt today, too!” Shelby was actually as surprised as Samantha. She’d… Honestly always thought that SHE was the braver one in their friendship. But, Shelby would NEVER be able to work up the nerve to do that in front of Samantha, much less brush aside all her questioning so easily! “Alright,” Samantha said. “I was just wondering, ‘cause I’ve heard your friend likes to pee like a boy. Guess you aren’t AS disgusting as her.” Shelby tried to ignore her. It was just a word, and not even a TRUE word. It wasn’t disgusting to pee standing up. Emmett was basically her metric for determining what activities counted as ‘hygienic’ and he NEVER sat down to pee since toilet seats were covered in germs. Therefor, standing to pee did not mean she was gross. Samantha adjusted her position again, and Shelby could tell she’d started to tug at her seatbelt. Her feet were tapping loudly against the floor. “I mean, I get she doesn’t have a mom, so she’s got no idea how being a girl is supposed to work… But, like, I’d hope she’d figure it out eventually!” “Samantha!” Jessica’s mom snapped. “That’s way too far.” “She knows I’m joking,” Samantha said. “And I’m just trying to keep everyone distracted until we get to a bathroom.” Shelby WAS certainly distracted now. Anger displaced desperation as her dominant emotion. Yes, she didn’t have a mother. Her mother was killed by a drunk driver when she was just trying to go to the store! What kind of person made fun of someone for THAT?! Samantha was… Shelby didn’t think she was just a ‘bully’, THAT was why her taunting hurt so much worse than anyone else’s. What she did went beyond bullying and crossed over into the realm of abuse. Abusers didn’t listen to reason. It took a lot more than just words to get one to understand that their victim was done putting up with their crap. It was time for Shelby to fight dirty, that was the only language Samantha would understand. She just wasn’t sure what to do yet… Trying to think of a way to get back at Samantha occupied Shelby’s mind for a little while, but when the traffic finally started to clear up and they were at last able to move again, the resulting jolt to her bladder drew all of her energy back towards IT instead. She really should have joined Nova and Emmett when they’d gotten out of the car, to Hell with what Samantha would say. It wouldn’t matter if she made fun of her. Samantha would have even MORE reason to tease Shelby if she wet her pants. And Shelby was starting to worry that that was a distinct possibility. There were constant pangs, and her bladder felt like it was cramping up every few seconds. Like, its walls were squeezing in on their own accord, body trying to push all of the liquid out regardless of if she wanted it to or not. The dam constructed by her quivering holding muscles felt unstable and likely to crumble. Jessica’s constant whining about how close she was to peeing in her seat didn’t help at all. Nor did Emmett’s fidgeting, which occasionally caused him to jostle Shelby a little. What was he flailing around for? He’d gotten to pee already! And why was Nova still sitting so stiffly? Yeah, she wasn’t trying to squirm out of her own skin anymore, but she still looked horridly uncomfortable. Had Samantha gotten to her after a— “D—Do you see any signs for gas stations yet?” Nova asked suddenly. “I’m looking,” Jessica’s mom promised. “But, there’s nothing yet.” Shelby cupped her hands against herself, squeezing her thighs together. “You just went,” she said. “I couldn’t finish,” Nova whispered. “And Emmett wasn’t able to pee at all.” Shelby tightened her hold on her crotch, crossing her legs back and forth as best she could in her cramped position. Well, at least now she knew why her brother was still jiggling around so much… If she hadn’t been so overwhelmed by her own desperation, she may have considered teasing him a little. Nothing mean… Just, some light jabs about how HE’D locked up trying to pee on the side of a road while a GIRL had at least managed to do it for a few seconds. Not that she’d have that much room to talk, anyway. She’d been too intimidated to even TRY. And it hadn’t even had anything to do with being seen by the occupants of other vehicles, only by one particular occupant of the one she’d just left. If she just hadn’t allowed Samantha to intimidate her, then she wouldn’t be in so much discomfort now. She was angry with Samantha, but also angry with herself. At long last, they finally pulled into a gas station. Everyone was in a major hurry to get out. Emmett threw open the door on his side and struggled to his feet, hands clenched between his thighs. Shelby strained to crawl out after him, which forced her to actually MOVE for the first time in over two hours. She was not prepared for what that would do to her. Her bladder seemed to spring awake, immediately becoming even more agitated than it had been just a second before. The cramping and squeezing intensified to such a severe degree that she didn’t even have a chance to react to it, to clench her thighs tighter, to dig her hands in more firmly. As she stood up beside the car, a warm trail was wetly gliding down her legs, and more felt like it was right there at the edge of bursting forth. Shelby did not wait for the others before hurrying to the restrooms. She yanked open the door to the women’s and hurried inside to be met with… An absolutely revolting scene. It was bad even by gas station bathroom standards. The stall doors were all rusted, one of the sink faucets had been broken, and the whole room was coated with a visible layer of grime. Her first thought was that, if the men’s room wasn’t any better off, her brother was probably going to just wet his pants instead of using it. Her next was that SHE would rather wet her pants than sit down on one of the toilets here. She hadn’t even yet entered a stall and seen what she was up against, but KNEW it was bound to be just as awful— if not even worse— than the rest of this disgusting room. She went to a stall and cautiously pulled its door open, hoping for some kind of a miracle. But, it was even worse than she’d been expecting. Shelby wasn’t squeamish normally— Emmett flipped out about uncleanliness enough for the both of them, after all. But, this? This was too much even for her. She didn’t want ANY part of her skin to come into contact with that seat. And she didn’t HAVE to. She COULD stand and pee, and not have to touch a THING in here. But… Samantha… Samantha WAS really desperate to pee, so maybe she’d be too focused on her OWN bladder to care how Shelby was emptying HERS. In the time it took her to work up the nerve to unzip, she heard the door being opened again, followed by Jessica groaning. “Ugh, it’s DISGUSTING in here!” “You’re right,” Samantha said. “Let’s just pee and get out of here…” She heard two stalls being opened, followed by Jessica shrieking and Samantha groaning. “Ew, ew, ewwww!” Jessica exclaimed. Shelby tried to ignore them as she positioned her hands. Nerves tingled in her chest, but the desperation flaring up inside her bladder was even more pressing. She felt the heavy weight of urine shifting almost immediately, and then a strong stream was gushing out into the bowl of the nauseatingly grimy toilet. Wow, much better! The drop in pressure was intense and immediate, her bladder no longer cramping and straining, but slowly shrinking instead. It felt so good that she sighed out a throaty moan, continuing to push in her eagerness to be rid of the watery torment. She was occasionally splashing the toilet seat, since she hadn’t wanted to grab hold of it to lift it up. She didn’t care very much though, the seat was already a horror-show, a few MORE droplets wouldn’t even make a difference. Jessica had never seen anything so gross before! It turned her stomach just looking at it! She was certain she’d catch some form of the bubonic plague if she sat on that toilet, but she was ALSO certain that she was going to soak her pants if she didn’t! She turned about, hoping that this place had a seat-cover dispenser somewhere, but she didn’t see one. And when she heard Shelby’s release starting to hiss into the bowl, her bladder spasmed so hard that what felt like an ENORMOUS spurt of liquid warmed the space between her trembling thighs. How could Shelby make herself use the bathroom here?! Wasn’t she disgusted by it? Was she THAT desperate that it didn’t matter— That couldn’t have been it. Jessica was exploding and it still mattered a LOT to h— She glanced down and could see which direction Shelby’s feet were pointing in. Wait… So, Samantha was right? Shelby COULD pee like a guy? How did she do that? Maybe some kind of a funnel thingy? Jessica wished SHE had a funnel thingy! As it was, her hands just kept alternating between hesitantly palming her zipper and cramming back between her legs. Drips were continually seeping out of her, but she did not have it in her to actually GO here, not if she had to sit! Maybe Shelby would let her borrow the funnel… That would be gross too, since she’d just USED it, but the residue of one girl’s pee wasn’t AS bad as everything that lurked on that seat. She’d… She’d wait for Shelby to finish, and then she’d ask. Shelby might say no… Jessica hadn’t ever been all that NICE to her, so why would she share something with her? Jessica hoped Shelby wouldn’t use this as an opportunity to get back at her. Samantha was in another stall, just as repulsed as Jessica. She needed to go so badly that the button on her shorts felt like having a push-pin jammed into her bladder. She unfastened it, savoring the small amount of relief that brought her, but that was as far as she could make herself go. Her hands refused to grip her zipper, refused to move her one step closer to the moment where her skin would have to come into contact with that seat. She could just hover, but that had never ended well for her in the past. A lot of it always ended up going down one of her legs no matter how hard she tried to prevent it. In spite of how unusable the toilet was to her, Samantha’s bladder still recognized it as a place for relief. It was doing flips inside her, taut holding muscles flaring and trying their hardest to go loose. Her body was CONVINCED release was on the horizon, yet she had NO intention of peeing here. She just… She COULDN’T. She opened the stall and hobbled out, bladder even more bloated than it had been when she’d gone in. As she prepared to leave altogether, hoping to God she could withstand her urge until they reached their destination, she noticed Shelby, her shoes pointing TOWARDS the toilet rather than away from it. She really DID pee like a boy… Samantha wished she could do that… Well. Her BLADDER did, anyway. The rest of her still thought it was the weirdest thing she’d ever seen and wondered why Shelby always had to be strange. *** When Nova had seen the state of the women’s room, she’d just immediately turned around and headed out. The disgusting scene wasn’t devastating to her, since she’d been planning to stand while she peed anyway, but she doubted the men’s room would be much better, and didn’t need to be psychic to predict what that meant for Emmett. No way was he going to stay in a room like that for longer than five seconds, and judging by all the squirming he’d been doing, he’d need WAY longer than that to empty his bladder. Sure enough, he was just waiting outside, bouncing on his feet and crossing his legs back and forth. It would have been utterly adorable had Nova not been trying so hard not to copy him. The small bits of her burden that she was able to expel earlier didn’t feel like much anymore. Mere drops of the roaring ocean she’d been holding onto all day. “I take it the men’s room is disgusting too?” Emmett nodded, running one hand against his upper thigh as the other squeezed away between his legs. “I— This is— I know it’s stupid. I mean, I’m about to… Have an accident, but I—“ “I—It’s okay,” Nova said. “You said your therapist wants you to make small steps, right? This ISN’T a ‘small step’, so it’s fine if you can’t do i—“ “I’m bursting,” Emmett interrupted. That much was obvious… Nova certainly didn’t mind hearing him say it out loud though. She appreciated that he was being more open about needing to pee with her, if only because he knew she liked it. He was so cute when his voice cracked with panic, it always made her want to take care of him. “I know. And if it makes you feel better, the women’s is too gross for ME to use. Let’s go over to the bushes instead.” Emmett nodded, shaking. “I hope it lets me pee this time…” Nova hoped so too. If he didn’t go, she was likely going to force herself to stop midstream again. She wasn’t sure if her bladder could handle that a second time. Her urethra still stung a little from the first. The bushes were located directly behind the gas station building— Way more secluded and private than the barren road they’d tried to use earlier. Emmett unzipped himself and Nova tugged down her panties and moved her hands into position. Emmett actually started to pee first, bringing both of them immense relief. Nova unclenched and at last allowed her interrupted stream to resume. It was as though she’d hit the pause button on it earlier, because there was no slow build-up, she was immediately spraying at full force, ensuring that NONE of the first dribbles went down her legs, every drop gushed out and away from her like she wanted. Her shoulders drooped slightly as a shudder of pleasure tore through her. Ever since she’d realized that peeing was interesting to her, THIS became one of her favorite feelings. Letting it go after hours of forced restraint was amazing, and having her hands where they were sometimes meant she could do things that made it feel even better. Once, she’d managed to orgasm WHILE peeing, and before then she hadn’t even known it was POSSIBLE to feel that good. She was… Excited by all of this. She hadn’t been PLANNING on getting extremely turned on during a school field trip, but so many buttons were being pressed for her that she couldn’t help it. Emmett was making all those adorable sighing sounds, and when she surreptitiously glanced at his face, his expression was seriously cute, eyes shut, mouth hanging open, so relaxed… And she was desperately relieving herself right beside him, pleasure flowing through her and out of her. It just… It WAS hot, there was no way to get around that. But she WAS aware that she was in public. In a pretty secluded area, sure, but still… She needed to use her hands JUST for aiming, not for anything else, even if her body WANTED something else really bad. She was able to resist the temptation until she was finished, and hoped she’d have an opportunity to take care of her NEW need soon. She pulled up her panties and waited for Emmett to finish. He wouldn’t appreciate being left alone with no one on the lookout for potential witnesses— And Nova certainly didn’t MIND standing there as he got the remainder of his liquid drained. Emmett finally finished and zipped back up, she immediately took hold of his wrist and pulled him into a hug. “Ah— H—Hang on,” Emmett stammered. “I— I still need to use some hand sanitiz—“ Nova silenced him with a kiss, “Feel better now?” “Y—Yeah,” he said. *** Shelby shivered as the last of her pee finally plinked into the bowl. Ahhhh… What a relief! She felt lighter, almost as though she could float away. She exited the stall and saw Jessica standing outside it, her legs still coiled together, hands still wedged in between them, face filled with painful amounts of desperation. “Do you use a funnel?” Jessica demanded through agonized, shallow breaths. “H—Huh?” “You pee like a guy, I saw you!” Jessica said. “So, you have a funnel, right? Can I please, please borrow it? I don’t want to pee my pants!” Shelby looked away. “Um, I don’t use a funnel…” “Then, what do you use?” Jessica asked. “Please, just let me borrow it, I promise I’ll never tease you ever again if you just—“ “I don’t have anything you can borrow,” Shelby told her. She didn’t have anything left to say to Jessica, so she just left the room. Samantha was right by the door, looking just as frantic and needful as Jessica had. Her legs were ankles were locked together, knees rubbing, hands squeezing with all their might against her crotch. “Shelby, how did you do that?” Samantha asked. “Do what?” Shelby asked, walking past her, trying to ignore her. She felt so good now that her bladder was squeezed dry that she wouldn’t allow Samantha to make fun of her over it. SHE’D gotten to relieve herself, that was all that mattered. “You really DID pee like a guy,” Samantha said. “How did— Wait, come back!” Shelby paused, but only for a second. “Teach me how!” Shelby turned back to face Samantha properly. “Yeah, sure. I was just thinking about how much I’d love to teach someone who makes fun of me for losing my mother how to pee standing up!” “Look, I’m sorry—“ “No, you’re not,” Shelby said simply. “And, what? After saying crap about me for standing to pee, all of the sudden you want to do it too?” “I d—don’t want to sit down h—“ “Figure it out yourself,” Shelby said. “But—“ “If our situations were reversed, would you help ME?” Shelby asked. When Samantha didn’t respond, she spat, “Yeah. That’s what I figured.” She didn’t even feel like she was being mean to Samantha, there was no guilt in ignoring her request. Samantha had brought this upon herself, and Shelby was under no obligation to offer any assistance. She’d taught Nova how to aim because Nova wasn’t an asshole to her all of the time. Samantha WAS, so now she got to stew with her OWN options. She could sit down on one of the nauseating toilet seats, try to figure out another way to pee HERSELF, or have an accident. Those were the choices. Shelby didn’t HAVE to give a different one. Besides, Samantha was the one who said standing to pee made someone less of a girl. She shouldn’t WANT to do it. Shelby went back to the car. Nova and Emmett were already there, both looking way more relaxed… Save for the massive blush on Nova’s face. “What happened?” Shelby asked, glancing surreptitiously down at her friend’s lap, searching for wet spots. Nova didn’t appear to have leaked visibly, though. *** Jessica kept standing in the women’s room, bouncing up and down in frantic indecision. She couldn’t stand like Shelby, and she couldn’t sit down and, above all, she couldn’t HOLD it anymore! She needed SOME way to get all this pee out! She supposed she could just hover, but that usually got messy, and she was scared about splash-back from the disgusting toilet. What other choices did she even HAVE, though?! Shelby’s brother was, like, a really major germaphobe. Jessica hadn’t ever talked to him that much, but he seemed to just always have hand sanitizer with him, and he’d practically had a heart attack when he was supposed to dissect a frog in class once. Samantha talked about it sometimes, she said he was a “complete head-case” and needed to “spend a few months in a padded cell until he learns how to be normal”. Jessica didn’t think it was as bad as all THAT, but probably bad ENOUGH that he wouldn’t be able to use the toilet here— Even though he COULD stand up! And he’d been willing to at least TRY to go on the side of the road. So, if he wasn’t STILL holding it, then he’d probably peed outside. Could Jessica do THAT? She never had before. If there wasn’t a toilet, she always held it in even when she was bursting. Someone might see— Samantha might see! Samantha would do that thing where she wrinkled up her nose and told Jessica she was immature, wondering aloud why they even hung out together. If… If Jessica could find a way to do it secretly, without Samantha noticing, then… Ohhh, she needed to just go outside! She limped out of the restroom, her bladder furiously protesting against every step. She saw Samantha pacing back and forth to the side of the gas station. Samantha’s eyes met hers and Jessica tried to straighten herself out. If she made it look like she’d just peed in the bathroom, Samantha would have no reason to think she was going to pee outdoors. She still needed some kind of excuse, though. Some explanation for why she wasn’t going back to the car. “I— Uh— I have a rock in my shoe,” she said, and it sounded lame to her own ears, but Samantha barely gave her a second glance, instead continuing to hobble back and forth, taking the smallest steps imaginable. “G—Gotta get it out.” Jessica hurried back behind the building where, to her GREAT relief, she found a smattering of bushes, if she went behind them and crouched down, she’d basically be invisible! Jessica worked her button and zip with a flurry of movement, then eased herself into the foliage. At last, she shoved her pants down and squatted. Right away, a stream of pure bliss erupted forth from her, the heavy stream cutting into the dirt. Her release spattered and hissed and she had to try very hard not to moan or sigh at the deliriously good feeling. Samantha might hear that, after all. *** Jessica returned to the car a few minutes later, finally tapped out. When her Mom got back from paying for gas and Samantha climbed back in, they were off again. Everyone was feeling much, muuuuch better. Save for one girl, anyway. Samantha hadn’t been able to bring herself to use the bathroom there. The idea of going in the bushes was so mortifying that it had barely even crossed her mind. After several minutes of restless pacing in front of the restrooms, she’d finally gone back in and claimed a stall, deciding that she could figure out how to use the toilet standing up by HERSELF. So, she’d yanked her shorts and panties down and let them bunch up around her ankles, then she’d just… Stood there, trembling with desperation, and no fucking CLUE of how she might alleviate it. Samantha had several brothers, and she’d seen quite a few of them stand to pee before. It looked REALLY simple when they did it. No need for any kind of instruction, just point and shoot. How the Hell was she supposed to do this when she didn’t have anything to grab onto and aim?! If she hadn’t SEEN Shelby doing it, she wouldn’t think it was even possible. But, clearly it WAS possible, and the only problem was that she didn’t know HOW. She wondered if she was just supposed to… Like… Straddle the toilet, one foot planted on either side of the bowl. But then her legs would be right up against the gross thing, and Shelby hadn’t been doing it that way. Samantha had seen where her feet were, they were in FRONT of the toilet, about where she’d figure a guy’s feet would be. So, that wasn’t it. There must have been some way she could hold onto the spot where her pee came out of that would allow her to aim it. Struggling, completely out of her depth, she put a hand against her labia and spread them slightly. She did not feel confident at all, but she did feel extremely close to urinating all over the place if she didn’t at least TRY to get it into the toilet. Hoping for the best, she told her body it was time to open the floodgate. It stayed shut for a few seconds, she was most definitely NOT used to allowing her pee to gush out in this position. She was bursting though, so it didn’t take TOO long for it to finally start. And, when it started, rather than liquid spraying out and into the toilet, warmth trickled down her legs. There was zero arc to her stream, every drop rushing straight downwards. Immediately, Samantha panicked, and she kept adjusting her grip on herself, trying to yank or pull somewhere that would change the angle of her release, but nothing she did helped. So, instead she had to direct all her energy into just making it STOP. She grabbed her crotch firmly with both hands, bending forwards, wriggling from side to side and bouncing. Now that she’d consciously TOLD her bladder that it could finally empty, it protested as hard as it could as she tried to rip its relief back away. She barely managed to cork herself shut again, and then just stood there, trembling, unwilling to move to pull her shorts back up. When she’d finally recovered enough to make herself presentable again, she shuddered when she zipped up, the sound had a gruesome finality to it. She was going to have to hold it for the rest of the drive. It was all Shelby’s fault, too. So, that was why she was now back in the car, honestly feeling even MORE desperate than she would have felt if she hadn’t peed at all! She had NEVER stopped midstream before, and had had NO idea that it hurt so damn badly! Her middle was still spasming with displeasure, the bumps in the road adding to the pressure. It felt like her bladder was getting around. She turned to Jessica, who looked so aggravatingly COMFORTABLE. “I can not BELIEVE you actually peed there.” “I— I really had to go…” Jessica mumbled. Samantha hadn’t caught her watering the bushes, but was apparently going to shame her anyway. “So do I!” Samantha said. “But, I’m HOLDING it until I find a PROPER place.” She groaned, yanking hard on her seat-belt. “Aren’t we there YET?” “About one more hour,” Jessica’s mom called. She didn’t sound very sympathetic. SHE’D said that Samantha should have just used the bathroom if she’d needed it that badly. Samantha was in an atrocious mood now, lashing out at EVERYONE regardless of if they spoke to her or not. She was most furious at Shelby of course. It was because of HER that she was still waiting. “See if I ever do YOU a favor again…” “You’ve never done me a favor BEFORE,” Shelby said. “Shut up,” Samantha grouched. She was bucking against her clenched hands, trying to ignore how horridly damp her shorts felt. It was just sweat, she told herself. Nothing but sweat. “Ah— How much longer!?” “Samantha, you should have just used the toilet,” Jessica said timidly. “E—Even Emmett did it, and he’s—“ “Easy for HIM, he can just STAND!” “A—Actually, he flipped out and pissed on a bush,” Shelby corrected. “I didn’t ‘flip out’!” Emmett said. “I walked in, saw the place was a trashfire, and left.” “Shut up!” Samantha yelled. Everyone was getting on her nerves, she didn’t want to hear anyone’s voices. It was too distracting! She needed to focus everything she had on the simple task of not peeing… Please, please, just don’t pee! “Going in the bushes is easier for him, too!” “Samantha,” Jessica’s mom admonished. “Stop shouting at everyone. It was your decision not to go at the gas station, that’s no one else’s fault.” Oh, but it WAS. It was Shelby’s fault. Shelby could have easily just TOLD her how to stand, and none of this would be happening. Her fault. HER fault! The next several minutes were Hell. Samantha was grinding into her seat, rocking against her hands and clenching her eyes closed. She could not BELIEVE she needed to go to the bathroom this badly! She’d had emergencies in the past— Two bathrooms shared between herself and all her siblings meant long lines were inevitable— but she’d never endured anything as extreme as this. It had been YEARS since she’d last honestly thought she could have an accident, and today she was feeling like it could happen at any second. They continued to drive, Samantha whimpering and fidgeting and occasionally even leaking. She was mortified when she felt wet heat gush into her palms, but she couldn’t stop it from happening. She just had to do whatever it took to avoid a full-blown soaking, and she was rapidly running out of things she COULD do to prevent it. All her squirming and writhing was barely having an effect, all her clenching and squeezing hardly did anything! Her bladder was as full as full could get. At one point, she’d just unbuttoned her shorts since the thing was digging into her too much, and when she did THAT she was able to feel how brutally hard her lower stomach had gotten. It was like it was made of stone, and when she looked at it she swore it was curving a little too. She was so desperate that it was making her look distended. Even as Samantha moaned and frantically moved around in an attempt to stave off her flood, Shelby couldn’t feel much sympathy. She supposed she’d feel bad for Jessica’s mom if the car seat got drenched, but Samantha? She had brought this on herself. Maybe Shelby would be able to dig up SOME empathy for her if there had been zero opportunities for relief during the entire trip, but since there HAD been one and Samantha had opted not to take advantage of it, there was really ZERO reason to pity her. Samantha had been nothing but a jerk to Shelby since the day they’d met, so if anything Shelby felt somewhat entertained by the spectacle she’d allowed herself to become. And then, Samantha informed Shelby that, actually, this was HER fault. Shelby stifled a laugh. “I forgot that I forced you back into the car before you could use the toilet.” “You KNOW that’s not what I meant…” Shelby rolled her eyes. If Samantha had been nicer to her in the past, then she really WOULD have taught her to go standing. Or at least TRIED to. But, instead Samantha had made fun of her for losing a parent, and said that it was why she was ‘bad’ at being a girl. It was sort of mind-boggling that Samantha wasn’t able to figure out simple cause-and-effect. Samantha twisted and turned, bouncing up and down, straining every muscle she had as she groaned. “Ohhh, aren’t we there YET?” “I’ll TELL you when we’re there,” Jessica’s mom said. “I understand you need the girls’ room very badly, but I’m getting you there as fast as I can.” “Hurryyyy…” Samantha begged. This was so embarrassing, letting everyone in the car know that she was close to peeing her pants. But, the only thing WORSE would be actually peeing her pants in front of everyone, so BEGGING it was. Jessica’s mom sighed again. “If you can’t hold it, then—“ “I’m not gonna have an accident!” “I wasn’t suggesting that… Jessica, look around and see if you can find Samantha something she can go in, alright?” “WHAT?!” Samantha shrieked. She couldn’t be serious! How would that even work! She couldn’t USE a bottle, and there was a GUY here, and— And she was trickling into her panties, wetting herself, but not at the full-force she NEEDED to. “J—Jessica, please hurry!” Jessica glanced down at her feet. There was a bag there, containing snacks her mom had packed for the trip. There were plastic bowls in there, and if she took the food out of one then IT could be useful. Samantha wasn’t gonna like it, though… Jessica reached into the bag and grabbed one of the bowls. She peeled off the lid and removed the grapes stored there, just tossing them back into the bag on their own. “Here,” she thrust the bowl at Samantha. Samantha’s eyes widened at the sight of it. She was not going to pee in a plastic Tupperware container, she was NOT. A long spurt hissed out, warning her that she could either pee in the bowl or pee in her pants. “Give it!” Samantha tore one hand away from her groin and gripped the bowl. She unlatched her seat-belt, immediately feeling a slight taste of relief that made her want more. She stood up as best she could and reached for her zipper. “Nnnnhhh…” her hand froze. “Nobody look!” Shelby could barely believe what was happening. Prim, prissy Samantha was about to take a leak in the car! Talk about ‘unladylike’! She’d been amused by seeing her bully face SOME form of comeuppance, and she thought this might even be more ‘humbling’ for her than a full-on accident! “Don’t look!” Samantha repeated. “ESPECIALLY you, Emmett!” “Why WOULD I?” Emmett asked. “I HAVE a girlf—“ “Nova, cover his eyes!” Samantha barked. Nova sighed, “They’re already shut—“ “COVER THEM.” “Fine…” Samantha finally unzipped and pulled down her shorts, then cautiously sat over the bowl. She expected to have a little trouble getting started, given the circumstances, but the instant she felt the bowl beneath her, she was gushing a strong, violent stream. It rattled loudly against the plastic, both notifying her that she was hitting her target AND humiliating her since she knew everyone else could hear the hiss as clearly as she could. She felt equal parts mortification and relief. Her bloated bladder was loving every second of this, but the rest of her was so ashamed that she could hardly think. Again, she mentally cursed Shelby. This was her doing, if she’d simply done as she’d been asked, none of this would have ever come to pass. Samantha WOULDN’T be hovering over a bowl, unleashing a tidal wave in front of everyone. When she finally finished, more than a minute later, she was appalled by how much she’d filled the bowl. She’d nearly overflowed it, pale yellow liquid brimming around the top. Jessica, still not facing her, stuck out a hand containing the bowl’s lid. Samantha hurriedly latched it on, shuddering at the thought that she’d need to empty it out somewhere later. She stood, pulled her pants back up, then shamefully notified everyone that she was done. She then proceeded to spend the remainder of the ride trying to think of how to get back at Shelby.

(This one is part of my series "Firsts".) *** Adam fought to keep his gaze AWAY from the sign he could see on the other side of the store. It was too tempting to look at. If he even allowed himself to GLANCE at it too many times, he didn’t think he’d be able to stop himself from going towards it. Instead, he squeezed his eyes closed for a minute, trying to exorcise all images of urinals, toilets and running sinks from his brain. He ESPECIALLY tried to forget the sight, sound and FEELING of releasing an urgent stream. He tried not to think about how much he wanted to release one right now. He tried not to think about how he may end up spilling one down his legs soon. He was going to explode. He needed to pee so bad that he could barely breathe. He was shifting from side to side, only managing to shake up the waves of urine crashing inside him, but unable to stop. And there was a restroom that was just a two minute walk from his current position. If he sprinted, hands buried between his legs, he could probably make it in one and finally let go. But, he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t leave Alex alone for this. He hadn’t expected this to be difficult for him, but it clearly WAS, and Alex definitely wouldn’t feel safe by himself. So, Adam would hold it. This shouldn’t take too long. Alex squirmed uncomfortably. He was excited to get a nice, fancy suit for his wedding, but he hadn’t known what exactly that would entail. He had a suit for church, and his Mom had bought him that one. It mostly fit him, though the sleeves were kind of long for his arms. He wanted something a little more fancy for what was going to be the most important day of his life. He hadn’t realized that getting a new suit that went over his body PERFECTLY would involve so much… Touching. Alex hadn’t even realized it until just this very moment, but he didn’t like anyone’s hands on him aside from Adam’s. The man measuring him wasn’t doing anything objectionable, but Alex still didn’t like how this felt. It was really unsettling to have a stranger pay so much attention to his body, even in a professional setting like this. Alex kept feeling himself going tense, and then he’d be told to relax so that the measurements would be more accurate. The first time he flinched was when the tape measure was stretched across his chest. He didn’t know if he’d ever stop feeling anxious when a stranger got too close to that area. He knew there was nothing there to BE worried about anymore. If somebody touched his chest, they wouldn’t feel any lumpiness, their expression wouldn’t change to one of distrust or anger. But, Alex still always FELT like it would. Like, they’d somehow be able to feel just his SCARS through his shirt and the result would be the same. That wariness had actually gotten a bit worse after the day at the store where Papa had pulled his shirt off and said all of those horrid things to him, told him he was disgusting… Was that what EVERYONE would think if they saw his scars? When the tailor’s knuckles brushed up against his chest, Alex inhaled sharply and ducked backwards without meaning to. “I need you to hold still,” the tailor reminded. “S—Sorry,” Alex said. “H—He’s never done anything like this before,” Adam said, swaying and checking his watch, probably anxious for someone to begin taking HIS measurements. “He’s a little anxious.” Alex was more than a little anxious. He, for some reason, felt like he was naked. The amount of attention being placed onto him was setting him so on edge that his skin was tingling. He tried his best NOT to feel so stressed out, he knew this was what everyone did to make sure their clothes fit them perfectly. The tailor hadn’t said or done anything he shouldn’t have, he really was just doing his job. But, Alex couldn’t get over the discomfort. He was completely out of his element. Growing up, he’d done everything he could to avoid attracting the attention of strangers. Papa said they were all outsiders, that they couldn’t be trusted, that they were dangerous. Papa said that children like Alex were meant to be seen, and never heard. Papa said that garnering too much notice would only lead to trouble. Then, when he grew up and got AWAY from Papa, he STILL didn’t want to be noticed. He was so much happier, but all the things that had MADE him happier felt dangerous. Everything that had made him happier were things Papa had told him over and over would condemn him to Hell, and that Adam had explained could make some people needlessly angry. “It’s nothing you’re doing wrong,” Adam assured him always. “If anyone’s mean to you, they’re the ones choosing to do it. But, it might happen, and I want you to stay safe, so be careful around anyone you don’t know very well.” And, Alex HAD been careful. He usually let Adam do all the talking for both of them, because Alex was sure his own voice was too light and obvious. Adam’s was deeper. He dressed in plain, dull colors that wouldn’t catch many people’s eyes. Part of the reason he continued to keep his hair long was so he could hide his face better. Alex didn’t like being the focus of a stranger’s attention. Attention felt unsafe. “You’re okay, Alex,” Adam encouraged. The tailor started to measure Alex’s chest again. Alex tried to remember to breathe. After conditioning himself for so long that anyone accidentally brushing against his chest would inevitably lead to something horrible, it was SO hard to train himself out of those thoughts. He needed something else to focus on until this was over. That was easy for him to do for a bit. He and Adam were getting married, after all. That had practically been the ONLY thing on Alex’s mind for a while! He wondered if spending time with him would start to feel different afterwards. Some things ALREADY felt different. Alex never had those anxious, nonsensical thoughts that he wasn’t ‘cool’ enough to be with Adam, and that he’d leave as soon as he found someone more exciting. Adam was always going to be there, he was fully committed. Alex’s concerns to the contrary really HAD been silly. The ceremony was going to be so much fun, too. Adam’s family would be there, and some of Alex’s, too, and Camille. It would be the first really big party Alex had ever attended. They’d exchange their vows, and everyone would celebrate, and then afterwards Alex could use the restroom! Uh… Oh. Before they’d come here to get fitted, they’d had lunch at a small restaurant. Alex had finished two big glasses of lemonade, and he’d been pretty focused on getting THIS done, so he hadn’t even THOUGHT about using the toilet first. Hadn’t even noticed that, actually, he needed to go pretty badly. There was an acute, sharp pressure right at his opening, and he realized his thighs had been pushing together for quite some time now. Now that he’d actively ACKNOWLEDGED his bladder, it became the only thing he could think about! He wasn’t having an emergency yet, but his urge was deeply uncomfortable. His bladder was constantly throbbing with a tingling tension, and now the requirement that he ‘stay still’ felt more insurmountable than ever. Was it okay to ask for a break? Alex had already kind of given the tailor a hard time with all his fidgeting. He probably had other appointments to get to. He probably didn’t have TIME for Alex to pee in the middle of this. Alex wouldn’t ask— He didn’t even need to go THAT badly. It was just his inability to squirm that was making it feel so pressing. Alex didn’t get anxious while his shoulders were being measured, just focused as much as he could on not bouncing. His body REALLY wanted him to move around a bit, like he could somehow shift the contents of his expanding bladder so it wasn’t all resting right at the exit, pushing forcefully into it. All he could do was squeeze his thighs, though. Was it okay to just tell the tailor to hurry? That would be rude, wouldn’t it? Alex wished he could ask Adam what to do… It would be too embarrassing to blurt out that he had to pee, though. Instead, Alex focused on Adam and tried widening his eyes, an attempt to convey that there was something he needed. Adam smiled back at him, “You’re doing good, Alex,” he said. “Just stay still.” He was leaning against the wall now, one leg crossed casually over the other. “They should be almost done.” Alex hoped that was true, his middle was starting to really ache… Except, then the tailor knelt down and was wrapping the tape-measure around Alex’s waist, hands coming really close to his prosthetic. Alex tensed again, accidentally jolting the walls of his bladder and making them buzz with a much more anxious fervor. Adam had told him before that, if someone ever accidentally touched him there and felt the prosthetic, it would be fine. Unless that person was REALLY feeling him up— In which case, Adam was liable to forget the meaning of pacifism for a moment— then it would feel realistic enough. The prosthetic was just a bit firmer than a cis guy’s penis, so in the worst case scenario it would just feel like Alex was hard. Alex didn’t want the tailor to think he’d gotten hard, OR that his penis was a prosthetic… He wriggled, anxious that even the slightest knuckle graze would be too much. That small movement made Alex’s urethra stop stinging for a second, bringing a little taste of relief to his bladder, and tempting him to fidget around even MORE, just until his body had calmed down a bit. “Stay still,” the tailor repeated, stopping Alex’s train of thought. But, now that he’d BEGUN to squirm, the desire to continue was intense. His bladder fizzed and boiled within him, thighs clenching until he felt them beginning to cramp. ‘Oh, please hurry,’ he thought. ‘It’s starting to get bad!’ Alex did his best not to move around anymore. He knew it would take so much longer if he squirmed and messed up the measurements. But, now the tailor was pulling the tape measure kind of TIGHT around Alex’s midsection, right over his bladder, squishing it just slightly, just enough to make Alex’s opening burn and prompt a needy whine from the back of his throat. “Hm?” The tailor asked. “N—Nothing,” Alex said. “Almost done?” “Nearly,” the man informed him. “Just need your legs.” Of course, the parts of his body he MOST wanted to start moving were now the ones he needed to keep perfectly still. He nearly asked the man to hurry then, but held it back along with the ripples of pee that were beginning to DEMAND release. The only thing keeping him from panicking at that point was the knowledge that a bathroom was SO close. The second this was finished, he could go. He didn’t need to worry about this becoming too critical. Adam continued to watch as Alex was measured. He’d stopped flinching, but he still didn’t look comfortable. Adam supposed that was understandable, Alex was shy, this guy was a complete stranger. That was why Adam had to STAY here, even though he felt like he was going to burst, and he could NOT stop looking at the restroom door. He’d begun to fantasize— Actually FANTASIZE— about going through it, unloading his poor bladder into whatever receptacle was closest to the door. If he didn’t just explode and pee all over himself the instant he saw a urinal. ‘Pleeeaaase, hurry uuuup!’ Adam thought, crossing his legs back and forth. ‘Alex— Alex, tell him to hurry! Can’t you see I’m about to soak the floor?’ Alex HAD been glancing over at him with concerned, worried glances. Adam wasn’t sure if that was because he could TELL Adam was dealing with what must have been gallons of piss trying to fit itself into a sixteen ounce container, or just his OWN continued discomfort. Adam occasionally held himself when the tailor wasn’t looking. Really, he wanted to keep his hands GLUED there, not budging them until he was finally at a toilet. Squeezing his thighs together, he was hit by an intense, sudden spasm. It came on so strongly, and with so little warning, that he felt a dribble of his ocean escape its overflowing prison. “Al—Almost d—“ Before he could finish asking, a woman approached from behind him. When she spoke, it startled him so much that he experienced his SECOND leak of the day. This one lasted a couple seconds, just long enough to feel sort of good. Really, if he weren’t in public, he might have considered just giving up right then and letting the rest out. Just that tiny reprieve was a relief, and he was dying for more. “Adam Murphy…?” The woman asked. “Y—Yes,” Adam said. “I’ll be taking your measurements today,” she told him. “Please, stand over here.” No. It wasn’t time for his appointment yet, was it? Alex wasn’t even done! Adam checked his watch, confirmed that it WAS time, but… But, he couldn’t! Not now! If he tried to stand still, he’d pop, he’d piss a violent, vicious stream all down his legs, all over that woman’s hands, all over the floor… He still didn’t want to leave Alex by himself, but it LOOKED like he was almost done, and Adam… Adam couldn’t hold it any longer! “C—Can you wait a minute, I am dying to—“ “No,” the woman interrupted. “I’m sorry, we have a packed schedule today.” ‘Do you WANT me to piss everywhere?’ Adam thought. ‘Because, that’s what’s gonna happen if I’m not at a urinal in two minutes.’ Out loud, he said; “That’s alright…” And went to the woman’s side. Alex’s tailor had finished with his legs, and was now having him walk back and forth a little bit. Apparently, he needed an idea of how Alex usually moved. This, Alex thought, was actually the trickiest part. He never put any consideration into how he walked, so suddenly THINKING about it made it really awkward. Focusing on a task that was usually automatic made it difficult to know for sure if he even WAS walking the way he typically did. He was pretty sure that he WASN’T, though. He wasn’t walking how he would normally. He was walking how he would if he was starting to get desperate for the toilet, because he WAS. Since he wasn’t planning to spend his wedding day anxiously waiting for a bathroom break, he didn’t think his current pace was going to be of much use. His legs kept wanting to rub together, and it took effort not to let them. His steps were small and careful. His bladder throbbed more with each one, and he knew he was leaning strangely in an attempt to soothe it. Finally, the tailor let him stop walking and said he had everything he needed. Now Alex just had to get what HE needed… “Th—Thank you,” he said, feeling his aching holding muscles ALREADY starting to loosen up. He started for the restroom, but then he heard— “Adam, you’re going to need to stay still for me here…” “S—Sorry…” Alex turned, watching as Adam fidgeted in place while a woman attempted to measure his chest. Was Adam nervous about this, too? Alex had felt way better having Adam there with him, and… Sure, he REALLY needed the toilet soon, but he wasn’t in any danger of an accident if he stuck around a little longer. He was only in danger of… Really, serious discomfort, and that wasn’t so bad. “It’s okay, Adam,” Alex said. “R—Right,” Adam nodded, shutting his eyes tightly. He remained still for a moment, but then he shifted his legs again. “Sorry!” His back went straight and he pushed his feet together, hands at his sides, rubbing against his pant-legs, like he always did when he had to pee really bad. Oh. Well. Now Alex DEFINITELY couldn’t go! That wouldn’t be fair! Adam was having such a difficult time staying still, obviously HE needed to use the restroom even worse than Alex did. Alex would hold it until Adam was able to pee. “I—I’m really sorry,” Adam said again. “I’m trying.” Staying still was just… It was impossible. His heart was fluttering with panic, every time he stopped moving, he seriously felt like he was going to just… Pee. Like, there wasn’t a thing he could do to stop it. He felt SO close to a full-on accident that he was getting scared. In the past, when he’d wet himself, he’d been mostly alright with it. He’d accepted that it HAD to happen. He’d understood that his body could only fit so much liquid into it before it had no choice but to pump it all out so that he didn’t explode into billions of tiny pieces. It was embarrassing, but he didn’t MIND it that much. It wasn’t devastating to have an accident at home, or in the car, or just in front of his friends. But, here he was, a stranger really close to him, liable to get wet if he spilled over. He was in a pretty upscale clothing store, the sort of place he’d seldom ever been before. The floor beneath him was covered in a fancy, expensive looking plush carpet. The carpet was white and would stain forever if ANYTHING dripped on it. Having an accident here WOULD be devastating. His and Alex’s wedding budget didn’t include ‘carpet replacements after Adam fails to hold his pee.’ He NEEDED to keep it in, and he just couldn’t figure out how the Hell to DO that without jiggling and crossing his legs and doubling over in complete agony. He started to bounce again as she measured his shoulders. “Adam…” “I—I’m sorry,” Adam repeated. “I— Look, I gotta be honest, I need to use the bathroom SO bad. Can we just pause for a minute?” Alex blushed. He knew Adam wasn’t typically shy about his bladder, but… Alex could NEVER say that to a stranger, especially not in the middle of a fancy store! He WAS grateful that Adam had spoken up though. His own need was becoming more prominent by the second, and he’d started to shift back and forth between his feet— He swore he could HEAR the liquid sloshing inside him. “Sorry,” the woman said. “Like I told you, our schedule is packed…” Adam did a few more cringing bounces as he tried to get a handle on his situation. He wanted to argue that she’d probably be finished with him a lot FASTER if he was able to be measured with an empty bladder. He knew he could hold PERFECTLY still if he didn’t have a freaking water-cooler trying to claw its way out of him. “O—Okay, but can you hurry? I’m not kidding, this is an emergency.” “You need to hold still,” she repeated. “That’s the only way I can rush this.” Adam gritted his teeth and tensed everything he had, his legs pressed together and squeezed, and he needed to move, he needed to jump up and down and clutch himself and curl over. He needed to become the picture of a person whom was minutes away from drenching themselves with buckets of liquid. He needed to pee, fuck, he needed to pee so bad… She finished with his shoulders, then moved on to his waist. Adam wondered if she’d even get an accurate measurement there. His bladder may have been so full that it was stretching him out a little. Not enough to really notice, but enough to throw off the measurement. Maybe his pants would end up being a tiny bit loose. ‘Hey, if you end up needing to piss this bad at your wedding, you’ll be thankful…’ He wouldn’t let THAT happen, of course. He’d make sure to pee before it started, the memory of THIS torment would be too fresh in his mind for him to forget. He and Alex had picked a venue, and now Adam wasn’t sure if they’d gotten the right place. He hadn’t even thought to check how many toilets would be there, how easy they were to get to, or anything like that. What if they got there and there was only one, and, like, they had to run through some kind of obstacle course to even use it? Adam knew he was probably starting to lose it, his brain becoming as waterlogged as the rest of him. He needed something else to think about. Something he couldn’t possibly tie back to peeing. Like— AHHHH! The tailor had just SQUEEZED the tape measure around Adam’s middle, basically cutting into his bladder, slicing it WIDE open, and—- Ohhhh, he was gonna pee his pants, he was gonna pee— He doubled over, grabbed himself, and stamped his feet frantically, breathing heavily as he struggled to keep a very persistent leak at bay. If he let go of a drop, it was going to be all over. One drop, and it would feel too good for him to help himself. He’d just give in, let it all come rushing out, consequences be damned. “Adam,” the tailor said. “Come on, I still need to do your legs.” “H—Hurry—“ Adam begged, wishing she’d at least show him some kind of sympathy. She should have been thanking him for not gushing all over the carpet yet. “Stand up a bit straighter,” she prompted. Adam obeyed, and again he felt like his bladder was being torn open, taut skin stretching out in a way that was just agonizing. ‘Think about something else,’ he begged himself. He tried to think about kissing Alex on their wedding day, but then he imagined being allowed to use the toilet right afterwards. “I need you to uncross your legs.” Adam did, painfully. His hands remained wedged between them. They were the only things preventing the inevitable at that point. Alex watched as Adam struggled so fretfully against his body’s need. Poor thing… Just WATCHING Adam strain and coil and brutally straighten himself out again was making Alex need to go even worse. His own legs had begun to cross back and forth, and he was trying to stop them. It wasn’t fair for him to writhe and squirm and jiggle when Adam was being forced to stay still in the face of such immense pressure. The tailor was measuring Adam’s legs now, so Alex knew they were almost finished. Adam was staring up at the ceiling now, sweat glistening on his forehead. The corners of his eyes looked glassy, like he was about to cry just from the pain his tormented bladder was flooding him with. Alex wished there was something he could DO about it. Adam would be finished here in just a couple minutes, but Alex wasn’t even sure if he had a couple SECONDS left to spare before his bladder erupted. Alex caught himself starting to fidget his legs again and forced them apart from one another. His middle pulsed, the throbs of need were constant now. He was dangerously close to this becoming an emergency, but it was still NOTHING like what Adam was still dealing with. “Okay, now walk back and forth a few times,” the woman told Adam. “A—Alright,” Adam said, grateful to finally be granted permission to MOVE. Except, it wasn’t easy to walk. Moving his legs too far apart made him drip, and when those drips didn’t bring him even the barest hint of relief, the desire to let out MORE was strong. He kept bending forwards at the waist, as though scrambling to pick something up off the floor. He also needed to make frequent pauses to squeeze his thighs together and just… Rock back and forth for a couple seconds. 

“Try to walk as you usually do,” the woman said. “If I do that, then I’m going to have an accident,” Adam said. There was no uncertainty in his voice, and he tried to keep any embarrassment he felt out of it as well. “You need to try,” she told him. Adam DID try, he managed a few, more ‘casual’ steps, and then he felt a trickle rolling down his leg and—- Ahh, he just wanted to let the rest go, too! He snapped his legs together and crossed them, bouncing. “Th—That’s all I can do, I’m sorry. I really— I wouldn’t say this if I wasn’t serious, I am literally about to wet my pants.” “… Well, we got all your measurements, at least,” the tailor said finally. “I guess that’s enough.” She picked up a clipboard, which had both Adam and Alex’s information written onto it. “I see you already picked out the suits you wanted, so we don’t need to do that tod—“ “Can I go?” Adam asked, hands flying back between his wriggling thighs. He wanted to ask her if she just had a vendetta against the carpet or something. She kept reading, “Huh…” She remarked. “What?!” Adam asked. If she said one of his measurements looked ‘off’ and they needed to try again… There was a decorative vase a few feet away. It could be cleaned a lot easier than the carpet… “Alex, your waist is narrower than your hips,” she said. “Don’t see that on guys very often, you’re really skinny!” … Dammit… WHY? Adam tried to breathe deeply, but his bladder wouldn’t allow him to. He knew the woman hadn’t meant to, but she’d literally zeroed in on Alex’s BIGGEST insecurity. If someone’s goal was to make Alex feel like shit, then THAT was the easiest way to do it by far. Alex did NOT like his hips. They bothered him immensely. They made him EXTREMELY uncomfortable. And, in HIS eyes, they appeared wider and rounder than they were in reality. He sometimes just FIXATED on them, and the feelings they caused. Adam hoped this didn’t make him do that again. It hurt him badly to see Alex uncomfortable with himself. He sure didn’t look comfortable now… Alex froze, “Uh—Um… I guess I am skinny…” he said. “Adam, I— I have to go to the restroom real bad, too, hurry please?” Adam didn’t need to be told twice. He… Actually hoped Alex really WAS desperate, and that was why he wanted to rush off. Alex was just dying to pee, and of course he wanted to help Adam make it before HE pissed his pants, that was why he was in such a hurry. It wasn’t because he was upset and hurt and didn’t want to be in public anymore. It wasn’t that. They made it to the restroom, Alex opened the door, since Adam was still gripping himself with both hands. Adam wanted to say something to Alex, anything to make him forget about what had just happened. His stupid bladder wasn’t allowing him a moment’s pause, however. If he took a second to reassure Alex, he’d explode. He could see the fucking urinals now, he was leaking copiously into his pants, he was completely out of time. He stumbled up to the closest urinal and opened his already damp pants. He could feel slick, warm wetness as he positioned his prosthetic and finally aimed. He was pretty much already pissing, so his stream just picked up speed slightly when he acknowledged that he was finally in the right spot. It felt… It felt like bliss, honestly. The simple fact that he didn’t have to STRAIN anything anymore was such a massive relief that he felt dizzy. The sensation of his poor bladder deflating was even better. But, he was too worried about Alex to lose himself too completely to the pleasure of release. He heard Alex walking behind him, and expected him to come stand beside him. But, instead, Alex headed into a stall. Adam hoped he just wanted some extra privacy to pee in— These urinals didn’t have dividers, and he knew Alex hated that. He hoped Alex wasn’t just trying to hide… Alex locked the stall door behind himself. He tried not to think about what the tailor had said. He knew she hadn’t done it to make him feel bad. She had no way of knowing it was a sensitive subject. He just… Didn’t like his hips. They made him feel bad, and… Papa had always… When Alex lived with him, Papa sometimes called them ‘child-bearing hips’, whenever he was talking to Alex about his future. His future, where he was supposed to… He was supposed to get pregnant as many times as he could, have as many babies as possible. He… He liked the ‘babies’ part, he thought maybe he and Adam would adopt a child someday. But… Any time he imagined himself pregnant… He felt so sick, and scared. He felt a deep, visceral panic all the way down to his bones. It was the most terrifying thing he could think of. Nothing horrified him more. Sometimes, when something happened to remind him his body could DO that, he’d have trouble breathing and his vision would go really dark. And, Papa never let him forget that his future was going to consist of nothing BUT that. And, when he got older and his body changed and he started to feel so icky all the time, Papa made sure he KNEW what his hips were good for. Now, he was reminded of all of that all over again, and it made him feel like he needed to squirm out of his own body. Alex could hear Adam flooding the urinal, and it made him need to go worse. He was right at the toilet, finally. He was sure he’d stop feeling so bad and gross after he used it. If he got rid of ONE of the things currently adding to his discomfort, he’d be okay. He could rid himself of his full bladder a lot easier than he could turn his hips into a shape he found more tolerable. He unzipped and aimed, his bladder cramping more at the sight of the toilet. His toes curled inside his shoes and he shifted restlessly between his feet. Did everybody notice his hips when they looked at him? Did they think he looked weird because of them? He tried to ignore those thoughts, particularly when he realized that they were distracting him from peeing. The idea refused to leave him alone, however. He tried to push down on his holding muscles to get his stream started, but it didn’t work. He just kept staring down at himself, his hips appearing wider and more shapely to him than they usually did. “Nnnh,” Alex whined quietly. He really needed to go… He hated it when his brain got too busy and kept him from peeing! It was always so frightening! He had to empty his bladder so badly, it shouldn’t have taken him any effort to let it go! But, it WAS taking effort. He was just standing there, straining, unable to get out a drop. He understood his current ‘stage-fright’ situation a little better than he had understood similar experiences in the past; Since something had caused him to feel uncomfortable here, his body didn’t want to accept that this was a safe place to relax and make himself vulnerable while he relieved himself. Alex did his best to focus on the sound of Adam still peeing away. Poor Adam, no wonder he’d been flailing around so much, he was letting go of a typhoon now, and it was super loud to Alex’s ears. His own bladder flipped within him, desperate to join in. Yet, no matter how strong the pressure against his opening got, nothing would come out. Frustrated, Alex pushed his pants down the rest of the way and sat on the toilet, deciding to see if he’d have better luck if he changed position. There WAS an immediate change, feeling the cold material of the toilet seat against his skin was an even harsher tease on his bladder than simply looking at the bowl was. Still, he couldn’t convince himself to actually GO. He just sat there, feeling horridly bloated and full, squirming with desperation even though he was seated on a toilet and wanted nothing more than to start peeing. He squeezed his eyes closed and tried to pretend he was at home, but that didn’t help either. He heard Adam’s stream finally beginning to slow down, and a heavy sigh falling from his fiancé’s lips. Adam was almost done, and Alex hadn’t even gotten started! Alex pushed harder, wriggling where he sat, begging his bladder to please just empty. But, it wouldn’t. And he was getting REALLY uncomfortable with having his pants down, his hips on full display when he looked down. Alex listened to the urinal being flushed, and just gave up. Clearly, he wasn’t going to be able to pee here, no matter how much he wanted to. He stood, pulled up his pants and zipped them, trying to ignore the throbs that continued to pulsate beneath his fly. When he opened the stall door and saw Adam, he tried to straighten up. Adam thought he’d just peed… Alex knew better than to think Adam would be UPSET with him if he admitted he hadn’t, but… Alex had been in that stall for a while, the fact that he hadn’t gotten anything out in all that time was really embarrassing. And, since the issue was simply that a single, innocuous comment had rattled him too badly to unclench, that only added to the shame. He SHOULD have been able to pee, admitting that he was STILL holding on would be humiliating. Besides, they weren’t that far from their apartment, and if Alex couldn’t pee when he was TRYING to, he doubted he’d be able to have an accident during the drive back. He’d be fine, he’d just have to keep feeling uncomfortable for a bit longer than he’d anticipated. “Phew…” Adam exhaled. “Seriously almost pissed on the floor. This store ought to give us a discount to thank me for not doing that.” “F—Feel better?” Alex asked, doing his best not to feel jealous. He really wanted to leave the bathroom now. Since it was useless to him, continuing to stand around inside it was just cruel to his bladder. He bounced on his toes a couple times, before he managed to stop. He had to pretend that he was empty. Maybe if he pretended hard enough, he’d even convince himself, and the heavy pressure weighing him down would lift a little. “Way better,” Adam said, going to the sinks. Great… Alex was going to have to deal with this, too. He cringed when he heard one of the faucets turn on, the rush of water forcing him to rub his legs together. He knew he had to wash his hands as well, he was going to have to put his hands underneath that spray, feel it trickling against his skin… When he put his hands beneath the faucet, there was an abrupt and massive spike in his urgency. His thighs squeezed together and he brought himself up on the tips of his toes, trying to keep his face from twisting in agony. He knew Adam would just ask what was wrong, he knew Adam would only want to help him, but… Alex SHOULDN’T still be holding it! He should have peed, it was embarrassing that he hadn’t! Adam never had problems like that… He took his hands back out and rubbed them against his pants anxiously. He wanted to go home… He was sure he’d be able to pee as soon as he was there! Adam didn’t need to know that this had happened. Minutes later, they were in the car and about to head home. Alex struggled against the urge to squirm in his seat. Now that the seat-belt was on, wrapped around his bladder and providing it a painfully tight cradle, it was tricky not to cross his legs. Adam held his hand for a moment, “Sweet thing, are you okay?” He asked. Could Adam tell he was still full? Alex blushed, “Um—“ “That thing she said earlier… Lots of guys DO have wider hips, it’s not bad. I like how every part of your body looks.” Alex blushed more. “I don’t like them… They make me think about… Stuff…” Adam squeezed his hand tighter for a second before beginning to drive. “Can you tell me what they make you think about?” Alex’s bladder lurched with an awful spasm when the car started to move. His ankles rubbed together the instant they went over a speed-bump, liquid sloshing painfully. “Papa used to remind me how my hips are for giving birth, and that was good since I’m supposed to have lots of babies. And… I mean, I LIKE babies, I hope we can adopt one whenever we’re ready for it, but… When I think about being… pregnant, I feel… It scares me really bad…” Adam reached to rub Alex’s hand again, feeling that it was pretty clammy. “Okay, first I want you to know that your Dad should NEVER had said those things, and it’s normal that listening to that made you uncomfortable. Like, even if you actually WERE a girl, your Dad shouldn’t talk about your body that way and tell you what to do with it. Did he do that to your sisters?” “Yeah,” Alex nodded, shifting in his seat slightly. He couldn’t find any position that kept the seat-belt away from his throbbing abdomen. “Patience was close to my age, so she got it a lot. Sometimes the little ones did too.” “Gotta be honest, that’s kinda creepy,” Adam said. “You’re right to feel uncomfortable about it. And it’s also okay that the idea of pregnancy scares you. But, try not to worry TOO much about it. You’ve been on T for a long time, so it’s unlikely to happen— And, I mean, it’s IMPOSSIBLE for it to happen with me no matter WHAT we do together, so—“ “I— I know, it’s irrational,” Alex said. The car went over another bump, and Alex jostled his knee up and down for several seconds. The only reason he stopped was because he was worried he was making it too obvious. “But, I get so scared every time I think about it.” “That’s alright,” Adam said. “Sounds like this might be a phobia you have— I think I’ve read that phobias can make you think a little less rationally. I’m sorry that looking at part of your body makes you think about scary things. But… That’s not what your hips are FOR, they’re yours, so they’re for whatever YOU want to do with them.” Alex shuffled his feet. “Okay…” he said. He still didn’t sound that comfortable, so Adam added; “How about… I could teach you to dance? Maybe that can help change what you think about when you look at your hips? I dunno…” It at least SOUNDED plausible in his head. If Alex was able to associate that area of his body with something else, he SHOULD be able to feel a little better about it. Alex shrugged. He hadn’t been allowed to dance when he lived with Papa. And he was pointedly trying NOT to dance right now… “I guess that could be fun.” “Okay, awesome,” Adam smiled. “We’re gonna dance at our wedding anyways, right?” “Y—Yeah!” Alex said, smiling more now. He glanced out the window, dismayed to see that they still had a bit longer to go before they reached home. He was fidgeting more in his seat now, insides throbbing with the need to release some pressure. Oh, he wished he’d been able to pee while he’d been in that stall! He wished he’d at least managed to get some of it out… His need was creeping upwards in intensity at an alarming pace. The seatbelt was constricting his bladder to such a degree that he felt like his middle was being cut into. He was trying his best to stay still, gripping the sides of his seat so that his hands didn’t go to his crotch, tensing his legs so they wouldn’t bounce… But, he kept needing to adjust his position, searching for one that didn’t make him feel like he was going to explode. Adam noticed all of Alex’s restless movement. He thought it looked like he needed to take a leak, but he’d JUST gone a few minutes ago, hadn’t he? It must have been something else… “You’re gonna look really good in your suit,” Adam told him, hoping that would assuage any of Alex’s lingering unease. “I might have some trouble keeping my hands off you during the ceremony…” “Heh…” Alex cracked a smile, but he was far too distracted by his bladder to do much more. “You’ll look good too,” he said, continuing to stare out the window, trying to count the number of turns left to make before they’d finally be home and he’d at last be able to unload his bladder. They’d be on the highway soon, and then it wouldn’t be much further. Ten more minutes, at most. Alex could handle ten more minutes of this, even if he had to ignore all his urges to begin squirming. They turned onto the highway, and were immediately met with miles of frozen traffic. Alex’s bladder cramped painfully at the sight, and the realization that he was likely an HOUR away from home, from the relief he needed so much… “Nnnh…” Alex mewled softly without intending to, tapping a foot sharply. Adam turned, “Hm?” He asked. “What’s the matter, sweet thing?” Alex shook his head, “N—Nothing…” he said softly. Adam thought he’d JUST peed, it hadn’t been long enough for him to need it again yet! He, again, tried to pretend to himself that he really HAD used the toilet before getting in the car. He hadn’t gotten any stage-fright, everything had poured out exactly like it was supposed to. So, that meant his bladder was still mostly empty. He didn’t need to pee hardly at all. All the pretending in the world could not erase what was true, though. He was desperate to go, so desperate that his throat was constricting and panicked sweat was trickling down his neck. Trapped in the car, not moving at all, with nowhere to let it out, was making his heart pound. He shook a little from head to toe, and tucked his hands beneath his thighs, rocking side to side in his seat. Adam noticed Alex fidgeting, heard his breathing start to accelerate. “Are you sure you’re alri—“ “When will we get home?!” Alex blurted. “I want— I wanna be at home soon…” Adam looked him over. He was SERIOUSLY acting like he needed to go to the bathroom, but that couldn’t have been it. At most, it had been thirty minutes since Alex had last used the toilet. He hadn’t been drinking any more copiously than usual today. It must have been something else causing him distress. He was still upset after earlier… Adam took his hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry, with the roads all backed up it might be about an hour.” “An hour?” Alex whimpered. He’d assumed as much, but it was horrifying to hear that be confirmed. He couldn’t— He could NOT wait for another hour! He’d already waited long enough! “Is that okay?” Adam asked. “I’m really sorry, there isn’t another way home. Just hold my hand, try to feel better.” Alex gripped Adam’s hand tighter, searching for the emotional relief the action usually brought him. Nothing could make Alex feel relieved now, though. Not even clinging to Adam. “It’s okay…” Adam said gently. “We’ll be home soon, and I’ll just hold you for a while until you feel—“ “I—“ Alex interrupted, a sharp pang stabbing his opening just before a tiny spurt of warmth spilled out between his thighs. He tensed up and stamped his feet. He couldn’t do this anymore, he had to at least be free to squirm, or else he was going to have an accident all over his seat. “Adam, I… I really, really have to go…” Adam stroked Alex’s hand tenderly. Even after hearing those words, he had a difficult time believing Alex could actually be desperate again already. “Go where?” “T—To the bathroom,” Alex said, his bladder thrashing at the admission and forcing him to cross his legs. The hand not clasping Adam’s went between his legs and he rocked himself against it. “Adam, I— I need the bathroom now…” Adam squeezed his hand harder. “I—It’s okay,” he said. “Just one hour. You can—“ “I can’t!” Alex interrupted. “I can’t wait another hour, I— I’ve been waiting too long!” Adam, again, tried to calm him down. “It’s okay,” he repeated. “It hasn’t been that long. You went before we—“ “I didn’t!” Alex moaned, shuffling his feet against the floor, his bladder throbbing with nonstop pulses, each one feeling more and more like it was going to end in a leak. “I couldn’t go then, and I already had to go bad, and now I can’t wait. I’m gonna wet myself!” Panic gripped Adam too then. “You didn’t go earlier?” Alex shook his head, feeling another burst of liquid warming up his boxers. It was coming out… He had to fight even harder to restrain this leak, doubling forwards and clutching himself tightly. “I couldn’t! I tried, and it just wouldn’t come out. I thought I could make it home, but I can’t!” “… Oh,” Adam said guiltily. He’d… He’d been so focused on emptying his own bladder, that he hadn’t paid much attention to what Alex was doing in the stall. He hadn’t noticed that no trickling sounds had ever emerged from within it. He’d just assumed Alex had emptied. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize—“ “N—Not your fault,” Alex said. “I’m the one that couldn’t go…” “And that’s not YOUR fault,” Adam said. “That just happens sometimes, it’s oka—“ “I—It’s not,” Alex insisted tearfully, bouncing up and down. All the jiggling was just sloshing his bladder and irritating its sensitive walls even more, but he couldn’t stop moving around now that he’d started. “I’m gonna pee myself…” “Y—You won’t!” Adam tried to reassure him, but it really DID look like Alex was on the verge of doing exactly that. It made Adam’s heart clench to watch him in so much discomfort. When he spotted tears forming in the corners of Alex’s eyes, Adam panicked and tried to think of a solution. Alex would start to sob for real if he had an accident… Adam couldn’t stand seeing him cry. They were just barely crawling down the road, and Adam couldn’t spot any exits close to their current position. No sign indicating a gas station that could save Alex just in time. He moved to open the glove box. It was tricky for either one of them to fill a bottle while sitting down, but he’d helped Alex do it before, they could do that again. But, there weren’t any bottles, and Adam knew EXACTLY what Alex would say if he suggested he just climb out of the car and release his flood on the side of the road. Alex would never be able to do that in broad daylight, everyone being able to watch him from their cars. He’d probably be so scared about getting in trouble for it that he wouldn’t even be ABLE to pee, no matter how close to exploding his bladder he may have been. Adam remembered a story his Dad had told him once. He’d gotten desperate during a huge traffic jam before too, and eventually he’d gotten out of the car and opened the hood, pretending to look for a problem while really just using it as a shield to discreetly relieve himself onto the pavement. Would Alex be okay with THAT? No one would be able to tell what he was doing if he stood really close to the front of the car… “Sweet thing, um… I don’t think the traffic will get better for a while, and… There aren’t any bottles, and—“ “I can’t wait,” Alex moaned, contorting in all directions. “I’m gonna wet the seat— Please don’t be mad at me!” “Shhh, it’s okay,” Adam told him. “I won’t be mad at you, but you aren’t gonna wet the seat, I promise.” “But— But there’s nowhere else to go— I— I feel sick, Adam,” Alex said. “It really hurts.” His face had gone very pale, his cheeks and forehead dampening with sweat. “Just… Get out of the car, go to the front and lift up the hood. Act like there’s something wrong with the car, and then you’ll have enough cover to—“ “S—Someone will notice!” Alex protested, shifting his legs restlessly. “I don’t want to get in trouble!” “You won’t, it will be okay,” Adam reassured. “I promise.” Alex shook his head, and he looked so frightened that Adam dropped the subject. “Just— If you have to, that’s an option,” Adam said. “Hopefully we’ll see a gas station soon.” Alex nodded, moving constantly where he sat. His hair was starting to go slick from his copious sweating. He looked so pained that Adam WANTED to keep pushing him to just get out and piss in front of the car. Alex was too terrified of being caught and punished for it, though. There was a chance he’d freeze up again, and STILL not manage to drain his bladder. Adam kept glancing around the car— There had to be SOMETHING useful. If not a bottle, then… Something, anything! He wanted to get Alex some relief as badly as Alex himself wanted it! Finally, he turned around in his seat and spotted a few towels left in the back from when they’d visited a pool with Camille. There were four towels, if they were layered, they’d hold a lot, especially if Alex didn’t let it all out in the same spot. Adam reached and grabbed them, tugging them to the front. “O—Okay, how about… Uh, just… stand up for a second and pull down your pants.” Alex looked up from the huddled, trembling ball of desperate knots he’d tied himself into. “H—Huh?” “Move your pants out of the way, and then you can sit on these towels, so if you… If you can’t make it, you won’t wet your clothes or stain the seat or anything.” “But, the towels—“ “We can wash them, it will be fine,” Adam said. “It’s okay. I’d rather have stained towels than see you in pain.” “O—Okay,” Alex said. He hurried to unbuckle his seatbelt, and after a few moments of fumbling with his shaking hands, managed to unlatch it. The sudden release of the belt from around his aching bladder felt really good, but the loss of pressure reminded him so much of the feeling of actually PEEING that it made him moan. He pushed his clothing down around his ankles as Adam spread the towels out on his seat, one atop the other. When Alex lowered himself onto them, naked from the waist down, he squirmed with discomfort. It felt weird to be so exposed in the car, even if he knew no one but Adam could see. “There…” Adam said. “Now, if you start to pee, pay attention to how wet the towels are getting, move them a bit if you think they’re too soaked. But, with four of them, I think they should be able to hold everything.” “Wh—What if they can’t?” “Then we can clean whatever makes it to the seat,” Adam said. “It will be fine. You can keep trying to wait, but it’s okay if you use the towels.” Alex felt better already upon hearing that. A lot of the panic left him. Just, the knowledge that he didn’t NEED to hold it all in until he got home was a relief. For several minutes, he felt so much more secure that it was actually EASIER to hold his bladder in. He was even able to put his seatbelt back in place with only minimal discomfort. Then, they finally started moving again! Alex sighed, feeling hopeful. There should be a gas station soon, he’d get to relieve his bladder PROPERLY into an actual toilet. It really WOULD be okay. Only, then the car in front of them came to a sudden stop and Adam had to slam on the brakes. Alex was jolted hard, his seatbelt pulling him backwards and squeezing so firmly into his bladder that a hard gush of pee hissed out from between his legs, wetting the towels and— Ohhh, it felt so good… He actually LET it continue for a few seconds before remembering what he was doing, squirming his thighs together in an attempt to stop it. He managed to slow it down, but it continued to trickle slowly. Adam took his hand again, having heard the hiss of his loss of control. “It’s okay… Shhh… Just let it all go…” He rubbed Adam’s thumb slightly, encouraging. “Pretend you’re on the toilet…” Alex shut his eyes and tried to do that. He wasn’t in the car, he was in the restroom. He was sitting on the toilet, because it was the middle of the night and he was sleepy and bursting. He’d woken up from a dream filled with watery imagery, and he had to go so bad that he’d barely sat down in time. His spray resumed, leaking out into the material of the towels underneath him. He could feel the warmth spreading out in between his thighs and around his butt, and it wasn’t the most pleasant sensation, but his bladder finally squeezing itself dry felt so amazingly wonderful that it didn’t bother him too much. “Haaahhhh…” he exhaled, starting to shudder, a smile forming on his face. “There you go…” Adam said. “That’s better… Just let it happen…” Alex did, completely forgetting where he was. All he could comprehend was the immense relief and satisfaction of finally giving his body what it so desperately needed. It pumped out of him in a strong, pressurized rush, the towels beneath him rapidly saturating. He forgot that he was supposed to watch out for that until Adam reminded him. “That part’s pretty wet now, move over a little…” Alex reached and adjusted the towels, starting to flood a dryer spot now. “Ahhhh…” he moaned, shaking harder. “Feel good now?” Adam asked. “Yeah…” “Good…” Adam said, continuing to rub Alex’s hand until he was completely empty, just sitting there blearily as the final drips seeped from him. Alex made no move to get back up or remove the towels, still adjusting to how it felt not to be exploding. “All finished?” Adam said. “Yes,” Alex nodded. Finally, he stood up and pulled his pants back on. He carefully rolled the towels back up, and was even more relieved when he saw nothing had made it onto the seat. “Where do I put the—“ “Just, on the floor is fine,” Adam said. Alex left the towels by his feet and sat back down. “Phew…” “Everything okay now?” Alex nodded again. “Thank you…” “You’re welcome,” Adam told him. “And… Next time you’re having trouble peeing, it’s alright to tell me, you know? It’s fine to get stage-fright every now and then, it happens.” “You haven’t ever had that problem,” Alex said. “Only me.” “That’s not true,” Adam shook his head. “I’ve had it happen before too. The first time I used a urinal? I had a LOT of trouble. All the stalls were taken, I was bursting, and I hadn’t gotten good at using my STP through a zipper yet. I couldn’t go at all, but I couldn’t hold it anymore either. I told my Dad and he taught me this way I can breathe to calm myself down, and that worked when I tried to go again. If you tell me when you’re having trouble, I can help you.” “O—Okay,” Alex said. “Next time…” “Good.”

(This one was commissioned. If you'd like a story of your own, feel free to DM me.) *** Adam fought to keep his gaze AWAY from the sign he could see on the other side of the store. It was too tempting to look at. If he even allowed himself to GLANCE at it too many times, he didn’t think he’d be able to stop himself from going towards it. Instead, he squeezed his eyes closed for a minute, trying to exorcise all images of urinals, toilets and running sinks from his brain. He ESPECIALLY tried to forget the sight, sound and FEELING of releasing an urgent stream. He tried not to think about how much he wanted to release one right now. He tried not to think about how he may end up spilling one down his legs soon. He was going to explode. He needed to pee so bad that he could barely breathe. He was shifting from side to side, only managing to shake up the waves of urine crashing inside him, but unable to stop. And there was a restroom that was just a two minute walk from his current position. If he sprinted, hands buried between his legs, he could probably make it in one and finally let go. But, he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t leave Alex alone for this. He hadn’t expected this to be difficult for him, but it clearly WAS, and Alex definitely wouldn’t feel safe by himself. So, Adam would hold it. This shouldn’t take too long. Alex squirmed uncomfortably. He was excited to get a nice, fancy suit for his wedding, but he hadn’t known what exactly that would entail. He had a suit for church, and his Mom had bought him that one. It mostly fit him, though the sleeves were kind of long for his arms. He wanted something a little more fancy for what was going to be the most important day of his life. He hadn’t realized that getting a new suit that went over his body PERFECTLY would involve so much… Touching. Alex hadn’t even realized it until just this very moment, but he didn’t like anyone’s hands on him aside from Adam’s. The man measuring him wasn’t doing anything objectionable, but Alex still didn’t like how this felt. It was really unsettling to have a stranger pay so much attention to his body, even in a professional setting like this. Alex kept feeling himself going tense, and then he’d be told to relax so that the measurements would be more accurate. The first time he flinched was when the tape measure was stretched across his chest. He didn’t know if he’d ever stop feeling anxious when a stranger got too close to that area. He knew there was nothing there to BE worried about anymore. If somebody touched his chest, they wouldn’t feel any lumpiness, their expression wouldn’t change to one of distrust or anger. But, Alex still always FELT like it would. Like, they’d somehow be able to feel just his SCARS through his shirt and the result would be the same. That wariness had actually gotten a bit worse after the day at the store where Papa had pulled his shirt off and said all of those horrid things to him, told him he was disgusting… Was that what EVERYONE would think if they saw his scars? When the tailor’s knuckles brushed up against his chest, Alex inhaled sharply and ducked backwards without meaning to. “I need you to hold still,” the tailor reminded. “S—Sorry,” Alex said. “H—He’s never done anything like this before,” Adam said, swaying and checking his watch, probably anxious for someone to begin taking HIS measurements. “He’s a little anxious.” Alex was more than a little anxious. He, for some reason, felt like he was naked. The amount of attention being placed onto him was setting him so on edge that his skin was tingling. He tried his best NOT to feel so stressed out, he knew this was what everyone did to make sure their clothes fit them perfectly. The tailor hadn’t said or done anything he shouldn’t have, he really was just doing his job. But, Alex couldn’t get over the discomfort. He was completely out of his element. Growing up, he’d done everything he could to avoid attracting the attention of strangers. Papa said they were all outsiders, that they couldn’t be trusted, that they were dangerous. Papa said that children like Alex were meant to be seen, and never heard. Papa said that garnering too much notice would only lead to trouble. Then, when he grew up and got AWAY from Papa, he STILL didn’t want to be noticed. He was so much happier, but all the things that had MADE him happier felt dangerous. Everything that had made him happier were things Papa had told him over and over would condemn him to Hell, and that Adam had explained could make some people needlessly angry. “It’s nothing you’re doing wrong,” Adam assured him always. “If anyone’s mean to you, they’re the ones choosing to do it. But, it might happen, and I want you to stay safe, so be careful around anyone you don’t know very well.” And, Alex HAD been careful. He usually let Adam do all the talking for both of them, because Alex was sure his own voice was too light and obvious. Adam’s was deeper. He dressed in plain, dull colors that wouldn’t catch many people’s eyes. Part of the reason he continued to keep his hair long was so he could hide his face better. Alex didn’t like being the focus of a stranger’s attention. Attention felt unsafe. “You’re okay, Alex,” Adam encouraged. The tailor started to measure Alex’s chest again. Alex tried to remember to breathe. After conditioning himself for so long that anyone accidentally brushing against his chest would inevitably lead to something horrible, it was SO hard to train himself out of those thoughts. He needed something else to focus on until this was over. That was easy for him to do for a bit. He and Adam were getting married, after all. That had practically been the ONLY thing on Alex’s mind for a while! He wondered if spending time with him would start to feel different afterwards. Some things ALREADY felt different. Alex never had those anxious, nonsensical thoughts that he wasn’t ‘cool’ enough to be with Adam, and that he’d leave as soon as he found someone more exciting. Adam was always going to be there, he was fully committed. Alex’s concerns to the contrary really HAD been silly. The ceremony was going to be so much fun, too. Adam’s family would be there, and some of Alex’s, too, and Camille. It would be the first really big party Alex had ever attended. They’d exchange their vows, and everyone would celebrate, and then afterwards Alex could use the restroom! Uh… Oh. Before they’d come here to get fitted, they’d had lunch at a small restaurant. Alex had finished two big glasses of lemonade, and he’d been pretty focused on getting THIS done, so he hadn’t even THOUGHT about using the toilet first. Hadn’t even noticed that, actually, he needed to go pretty badly. There was an acute, sharp pressure right at his opening, and he realized his thighs had been pushing together for quite some time now. Now that he’d actively ACKNOWLEDGED his bladder, it became the only thing he could think about! He wasn’t having an emergency yet, but his urge was deeply uncomfortable. His bladder was constantly throbbing with a tingling tension, and now the requirement that he ‘stay still’ felt more insurmountable than ever. Was it okay to ask for a break? Alex had already kind of given the tailor a hard time with all his fidgeting. He probably had other appointments to get to. He probably didn’t have TIME for Alex to pee in the middle of this. Alex wouldn’t ask— He didn’t even need to go THAT badly. It was just his inability to squirm that was making it feel so pressing. Alex didn’t get anxious while his shoulders were being measured, just focused as much as he could on not bouncing. His body REALLY wanted him to move around a bit, like he could somehow shift the contents of his expanding bladder so it wasn’t all resting right at the exit, pushing forcefully into it. All he could do was squeeze his thighs, though. Was it okay to just tell the tailor to hurry? That would be rude, wouldn’t it? Alex wished he could ask Adam what to do… It would be too embarrassing to blurt out that he had to pee, though. Instead, Alex focused on Adam and tried widening his eyes, an attempt to convey that there was something he needed. Adam smiled back at him, “You’re doing good, Alex,” he said. “Just stay still.” He was leaning against the wall now, one leg crossed casually over the other. “They should be almost done.” Alex hoped that was true, his middle was starting to really ache… Except, then the tailor knelt down and was wrapping the tape-measure around Alex’s waist, hands coming really close to his prosthetic. Alex tensed again, accidentally jolting the walls of his bladder and making them buzz with a much more anxious fervor. Adam had told him before that, if someone ever accidentally touched him there and felt the prosthetic, it would be fine. Unless that person was REALLY feeling him up— In which case, Adam was liable to forget the meaning of pacifism for a moment— then it would feel realistic enough. The prosthetic was just a bit firmer than a cis guy’s penis, so in the worst case scenario it would just feel like Alex was hard. Alex didn’t want the tailor to think he’d gotten hard, OR that his penis was a prosthetic… He wriggled, anxious that even the slightest knuckle graze would be too much. That small movement made Alex’s urethra stop stinging for a second, bringing a little taste of relief to his bladder, and tempting him to fidget around even MORE, just until his body had calmed down a bit. “Stay still,” the tailor repeated, stopping Alex’s train of thought. But, now that he’d BEGUN to squirm, the desire to continue was intense. His bladder fizzed and boiled within him, thighs clenching until he felt them beginning to cramp. ‘Oh, please hurry,’ he thought. ‘It’s starting to get bad!’ Alex did his best not to move around anymore. He knew it would take so much longer if he squirmed and messed up the measurements. But, now the tailor was pulling the tape measure kind of TIGHT around Alex’s midsection, right over his bladder, squishing it just slightly, just enough to make Alex’s opening burn and prompt a needy whine from the back of his throat. “Hm?” The tailor asked. “N—Nothing,” Alex said. “Almost done?” “Nearly,” the man informed him. “Just need your legs.” Of course, the parts of his body he MOST wanted to start moving were now the ones he needed to keep perfectly still. He nearly asked the man to hurry then, but held it back along with the ripples of pee that were beginning to DEMAND release. The only thing keeping him from panicking at that point was the knowledge that a bathroom was SO close. The second this was finished, he could go. He didn’t need to worry about this becoming too critical. Adam continued to watch as Alex was measured. He’d stopped flinching, but he still didn’t look comfortable. Adam supposed that was understandable, Alex was shy, this guy was a complete stranger. That was why Adam had to STAY here, even though he felt like he was going to burst, and he could NOT stop looking at the restroom door. He’d begun to fantasize— Actually FANTASIZE— about going through it, unloading his poor bladder into whatever receptacle was closest to the door. If he didn’t just explode and pee all over himself the instant he saw a urinal. ‘Pleeeaaase, hurry uuuup!’ Adam thought, crossing his legs back and forth. ‘Alex— Alex, tell him to hurry! Can’t you see I’m about to soak the floor?’ Alex HAD been glancing over at him with concerned, worried glances. Adam wasn’t sure if that was because he could TELL Adam was dealing with what must have been gallons of piss trying to fit itself into a sixteen ounce container, or just his OWN continued discomfort. Adam occasionally held himself when the tailor wasn’t looking. Really, he wanted to keep his hands GLUED there, not budging them until he was finally at a toilet. Squeezing his thighs together, he was hit by an intense, sudden spasm. It came on so strongly, and with so little warning, that he felt a dribble of his ocean escape its overflowing prison. “Al—Almost d—“ Before he could finish asking, a woman approached from behind him. When she spoke, it startled him so much that he experienced his SECOND leak of the day. This one lasted a couple seconds, just long enough to feel sort of good. Really, if he weren’t in public, he might have considered just giving up right then and letting the rest out. Just that tiny reprieve was a relief, and he was dying for more. “Adam Murphy…?” The woman asked. “Y—Yes,” Adam said. “I’ll be taking your measurements today,” she told him. “Please, stand over here.” No. It wasn’t time for his appointment yet, was it? Alex wasn’t even done! Adam checked his watch, confirmed that it WAS time, but… But, he couldn’t! Not now! If he tried to stand still, he’d pop, he’d piss a violent, vicious stream all down his legs, all over that woman’s hands, all over the floor… He still didn’t want to leave Alex by himself, but it LOOKED like he was almost done, and Adam… Adam couldn’t hold it any longer! “C—Can you wait a minute, I am dying to—“ “No,” the woman interrupted. “I’m sorry, we have a packed schedule today.” ‘Do you WANT me to piss everywhere?’ Adam thought. ‘Because, that’s what’s gonna happen if I’m not at a urinal in two minutes.’ Out loud, he said; “That’s alright…” And went to the woman’s side. Alex’s tailor had finished with his legs, and was now having him walk back and forth a little bit. Apparently, he needed an idea of how Alex usually moved. This, Alex thought, was actually the trickiest part. He never put any consideration into how he walked, so suddenly THINKING about it made it really awkward. Focusing on a task that was usually automatic made it difficult to know for sure if he even WAS walking the way he typically did. He was pretty sure that he WASN’T, though. He wasn’t walking how he would normally. He was walking how he would if he was starting to get desperate for the toilet, because he WAS. Since he wasn’t planning to spend his wedding day anxiously waiting for a bathroom break, he didn’t think his current pace was going to be of much use. His legs kept wanting to rub together, and it took effort not to let them. His steps were small and careful. His bladder throbbed more with each one, and he knew he was leaning strangely in an attempt to soothe it. Finally, the tailor let him stop walking and said he had everything he needed. Now Alex just had to get what HE needed… “Th—Thank you,” he said, feeling his aching holding muscles ALREADY starting to loosen up. He started for the restroom, but then he heard— “Adam, you’re going to need to stay still for me here…” “S—Sorry…” Alex turned, watching as Adam fidgeted in place while a woman attempted to measure his chest. Was Adam nervous about this, too? Alex had felt way better having Adam there with him, and… Sure, he REALLY needed the toilet soon, but he wasn’t in any danger of an accident if he stuck around a little longer. He was only in danger of… Really, serious discomfort, and that wasn’t so bad. “It’s okay, Adam,” Alex said. “R—Right,” Adam nodded, shutting his eyes tightly. He remained still for a moment, but then he shifted his legs again. “Sorry!” His back went straight and he pushed his feet together, hands at his sides, rubbing against his pant-legs, like he always did when he had to pee really bad. Oh. Well. Now Alex DEFINITELY couldn’t go! That wouldn’t be fair! Adam was having such a difficult time staying still, obviously HE needed to use the restroom even worse than Alex did. Alex would hold it until Adam was able to pee. “I—I’m really sorry,” Adam said again. “I’m trying.” Staying still was just… It was impossible. His heart was fluttering with panic, every time he stopped moving, he seriously felt like he was going to just… Pee. Like, there wasn’t a thing he could do to stop it. He felt SO close to a full-on accident that he was getting scared. In the past, when he’d wet himself, he’d been mostly alright with it. He’d accepted that it HAD to happen. He’d understood that his body could only fit so much liquid into it before it had no choice but to pump it all out so that he didn’t explode into billions of tiny pieces. It was embarrassing, but he didn’t MIND it that much. It wasn’t devastating to have an accident at home, or in the car, or just in front of his friends. But, here he was, a stranger really close to him, liable to get wet if he spilled over. He was in a pretty upscale clothing store, the sort of place he’d seldom ever been before. The floor beneath him was covered in a fancy, expensive looking plush carpet. The carpet was white and would stain forever if ANYTHING dripped on it. Having an accident here WOULD be devastating. His and Alex’s wedding budget didn’t include ‘carpet replacements after Adam fails to hold his pee.’ He NEEDED to keep it in, and he just couldn’t figure out how the Hell to DO that without jiggling and crossing his legs and doubling over in complete agony. He started to bounce again as she measured his shoulders. “Adam…” “I—I’m sorry,” Adam repeated. “I— Look, I gotta be honest, I need to use the bathroom SO bad. Can we just pause for a minute?” Alex blushed. He knew Adam wasn’t typically shy about his bladder, but… Alex could NEVER say that to a stranger, especially not in the middle of a fancy store! He WAS grateful that Adam had spoken up though. His own need was becoming more prominent by the second, and he’d started to shift back and forth between his feet— He swore he could HEAR the liquid sloshing inside him. “Sorry,” the woman said. “Like I told you, our schedule is packed…” Adam did a few more cringing bounces as he tried to get a handle on his situation. He wanted to argue that she’d probably be finished with him a lot FASTER if he was able to be measured with an empty bladder. He knew he could hold PERFECTLY still if he didn’t have a freaking water-cooler trying to claw its way out of him. “O—Okay, but can you hurry? I’m not kidding, this is an emergency.” “You need to hold still,” she repeated. “That’s the only way I can rush this.” Adam gritted his teeth and tensed everything he had, his legs pressed together and squeezed, and he needed to move, he needed to jump up and down and clutch himself and curl over. He needed to become the picture of a person whom was minutes away from drenching themselves with buckets of liquid. He needed to pee, fuck, he needed to pee so bad… She finished with his shoulders, then moved on to his waist. Adam wondered if she’d even get an accurate measurement there. His bladder may have been so full that it was stretching him out a little. Not enough to really notice, but enough to throw off the measurement. Maybe his pants would end up being a tiny bit loose. ‘Hey, if you end up needing to piss this bad at your wedding, you’ll be thankful…’ He wouldn’t let THAT happen, of course. He’d make sure to pee before it started, the memory of THIS torment would be too fresh in his mind for him to forget. He and Alex had picked a venue, and now Adam wasn’t sure if they’d gotten the right place. He hadn’t even thought to check how many toilets would be there, how easy they were to get to, or anything like that. What if they got there and there was only one, and, like, they had to run through some kind of obstacle course to even use it? Adam knew he was probably starting to lose it, his brain becoming as waterlogged as the rest of him. He needed something else to think about. Something he couldn’t possibly tie back to peeing. Like— AHHHH! The tailor had just SQUEEZED the tape measure around Adam’s middle, basically cutting into his bladder, slicing it WIDE open, and—- Ohhhh, he was gonna pee his pants, he was gonna pee— He doubled over, grabbed himself, and stamped his feet frantically, breathing heavily as he struggled to keep a very persistent leak at bay. If he let go of a drop, it was going to be all over. One drop, and it would feel too good for him to help himself. He’d just give in, let it all come rushing out, consequences be damned. “Adam,” the tailor said. “Come on, I still need to do your legs.” “H—Hurry—“ Adam begged, wishing she’d at least show him some kind of sympathy. She should have been thanking him for not gushing all over the carpet yet. “Stand up a bit straighter,” she prompted. Adam obeyed, and again he felt like his bladder was being torn open, taut skin stretching out in a way that was just agonizing. ‘Think about something else,’ he begged himself. He tried to think about kissing Alex on their wedding day, but then he imagined being allowed to use the toilet right afterwards. “I need you to uncross your legs.” Adam did, painfully. His hands remained wedged between them. They were the only things preventing the inevitable at that point. Alex watched as Adam struggled so fretfully against his body’s need. Poor thing… Just WATCHING Adam strain and coil and brutally straighten himself out again was making Alex need to go even worse. His own legs had begun to cross back and forth, and he was trying to stop them. It wasn’t fair for him to writhe and squirm and jiggle when Adam was being forced to stay still in the face of such immense pressure. The tailor was measuring Adam’s legs now, so Alex knew they were almost finished. Adam was staring up at the ceiling now, sweat glistening on his forehead. The corners of his eyes looked glassy, like he was about to cry just from the pain his tormented bladder was flooding him with. Alex wished there was something he could DO about it. Adam would be finished here in just a couple minutes, but Alex wasn’t even sure if he had a couple SECONDS left to spare before his bladder erupted. Alex caught himself starting to fidget his legs again and forced them apart from one another. His middle pulsed, the throbs of need were constant now. He was dangerously close to this becoming an emergency, but it was still NOTHING like what Adam was still dealing with. “Okay, now walk back and forth a few times,” the woman told Adam. “A—Alright,” Adam said, grateful to finally be granted permission to MOVE. Except, it wasn’t easy to walk. Moving his legs too far apart made him drip, and when those drips didn’t bring him even the barest hint of relief, the desire to let out MORE was strong. He kept bending forwards at the waist, as though scrambling to pick something up off the floor. He also needed to make frequent pauses to squeeze his thighs together and just… Rock back and forth for a couple seconds. 

“Try to walk as you usually do,” the woman said. “If I do that, then I’m going to have an accident,” Adam said. There was no uncertainty in his voice, and he tried to keep any embarrassment he felt out of it as well. “You need to try,” she told him. Adam DID try, he managed a few, more ‘casual’ steps, and then he felt a trickle rolling down his leg and—- Ahh, he just wanted to let the rest go, too! He snapped his legs together and crossed them, bouncing. “Th—That’s all I can do, I’m sorry. I really— I wouldn’t say this if I wasn’t serious, I am literally about to wet my pants.” “… Well, we got all your measurements, at least,” the tailor said finally. “I guess that’s enough.” She picked up a clipboard, which had both Adam and Alex’s information written onto it. “I see you already picked out the suits you wanted, so we don’t need to do that tod—“ “Can I go?” Adam asked, hands flying back between his wriggling thighs. He wanted to ask her if she just had a vendetta against the carpet or something. She kept reading, “Huh…” She remarked. “What?!” Adam asked. If she said one of his measurements looked ‘off’ and they needed to try again… There was a decorative vase a few feet away. It could be cleaned a lot easier than the carpet… “Alex, your waist is narrower than your hips,” she said. “Don’t see that on guys very often, you’re really skinny!” … Dammit… WHY? Adam tried to breathe deeply, but his bladder wouldn’t allow him to. He knew the woman hadn’t meant to, but she’d literally zeroed in on Alex’s BIGGEST insecurity. If someone’s goal was to make Alex feel like shit, then THAT was the easiest way to do it by far. Alex did NOT like his hips. They bothered him immensely. They made him EXTREMELY uncomfortable. And, in HIS eyes, they appeared wider and rounder than they were in reality. He sometimes just FIXATED on them, and the feelings they caused. Adam hoped this didn’t make him do that again. It hurt him badly to see Alex uncomfortable with himself. He sure didn’t look comfortable now… Alex froze, “Uh—Um… I guess I am skinny…” he said. “Adam, I— I have to go to the restroom real bad, too, hurry please?” Adam didn’t need to be told twice. He… Actually hoped Alex really WAS desperate, and that was why he wanted to rush off. Alex was just dying to pee, and of course he wanted to help Adam make it before HE pissed his pants, that was why he was in such a hurry. It wasn’t because he was upset and hurt and didn’t want to be in public anymore. It wasn’t that. They made it to the restroom, Alex opened the door, since Adam was still gripping himself with both hands. Adam wanted to say something to Alex, anything to make him forget about what had just happened. His stupid bladder wasn’t allowing him a moment’s pause, however. If he took a second to reassure Alex, he’d explode. He could see the fucking urinals now, he was leaking copiously into his pants, he was completely out of time. He stumbled up to the closest urinal and opened his already damp pants. He could feel slick, warm wetness as he positioned his prosthetic and finally aimed. He was pretty much already pissing, so his stream just picked up speed slightly when he acknowledged that he was finally in the right spot. It felt… It felt like bliss, honestly. The simple fact that he didn’t have to STRAIN anything anymore was such a massive relief that he felt dizzy. The sensation of his poor bladder deflating was even better. But, he was too worried about Alex to lose himself too completely to the pleasure of release. He heard Alex walking behind him, and expected him to come stand beside him. But, instead, Alex headed into a stall. Adam hoped he just wanted some extra privacy to pee in— These urinals didn’t have dividers, and he knew Alex hated that. He hoped Alex wasn’t just trying to hide… Alex locked the stall door behind himself. He tried not to think about what the tailor had said. He knew she hadn’t done it to make him feel bad. She had no way of knowing it was a sensitive subject. He just… Didn’t like his hips. They made him feel bad, and… Papa had always… When Alex lived with him, Papa sometimes called them ‘child-bearing hips’, whenever he was talking to Alex about his future. His future, where he was supposed to… He was supposed to get pregnant as many times as he could, have as many babies as possible. He… He liked the ‘babies’ part, he thought maybe he and Adam would adopt a child someday. But… Any time he imagined himself pregnant… He felt so sick, and scared. He felt a deep, visceral panic all the way down to his bones. It was the most terrifying thing he could think of. Nothing horrified him more. Sometimes, when something happened to remind him his body could DO that, he’d have trouble breathing and his vision would go really dark. And, Papa never let him forget that his future was going to consist of nothing BUT that. And, when he got older and his body changed and he started to feel so icky all the time, Papa made sure he KNEW what his hips were good for. Now, he was reminded of all of that all over again, and it made him feel like he needed to squirm out of his own body. Alex could hear Adam flooding the urinal, and it made him need to go worse. He was right at the toilet, finally. He was sure he’d stop feeling so bad and gross after he used it. If he got rid of ONE of the things currently adding to his discomfort, he’d be okay. He could rid himself of his full bladder a lot easier than he could turn his hips into a shape he found more tolerable. He unzipped and aimed, his bladder cramping more at the sight of the toilet. His toes curled inside his shoes and he shifted restlessly between his feet. Did everybody notice his hips when they looked at him? Did they think he looked weird because of them? He tried to ignore those thoughts, particularly when he realized that they were distracting him from peeing. The idea refused to leave him alone, however. He tried to push down on his holding muscles to get his stream started, but it didn’t work. He just kept staring down at himself, his hips appearing wider and more shapely to him than they usually did. “Nnnh,” Alex whined quietly. He really needed to go… He hated it when his brain got too busy and kept him from peeing! It was always so frightening! He had to empty his bladder so badly, it shouldn’t have taken him any effort to let it go! But, it WAS taking effort. He was just standing there, straining, unable to get out a drop. He understood his current ‘stage-fright’ situation a little better than he had understood similar experiences in the past; Since something had caused him to feel uncomfortable here, his body didn’t want to accept that this was a safe place to relax and make himself vulnerable while he relieved himself. Alex did his best to focus on the sound of Adam still peeing away. Poor Adam, no wonder he’d been flailing around so much, he was letting go of a typhoon now, and it was super loud to Alex’s ears. His own bladder flipped within him, desperate to join in. Yet, no matter how strong the pressure against his opening got, nothing would come out. Frustrated, Alex pushed his pants down the rest of the way and sat on the toilet, deciding to see if he’d have better luck if he changed position. There WAS an immediate change, feeling the cold material of the toilet seat against his skin was an even harsher tease on his bladder than simply looking at the bowl was. Still, he couldn’t convince himself to actually GO. He just sat there, feeling horridly bloated and full, squirming with desperation even though he was seated on a toilet and wanted nothing more than to start peeing. He squeezed his eyes closed and tried to pretend he was at home, but that didn’t help either. He heard Adam’s stream finally beginning to slow down, and a heavy sigh falling from his fiancé’s lips. Adam was almost done, and Alex hadn’t even gotten started! Alex pushed harder, wriggling where he sat, begging his bladder to please just empty. But, it wouldn’t. And he was getting REALLY uncomfortable with having his pants down, his hips on full display when he looked down. Alex listened to the urinal being flushed, and just gave up. Clearly, he wasn’t going to be able to pee here, no matter how much he wanted to. He stood, pulled up his pants and zipped them, trying to ignore the throbs that continued to pulsate beneath his fly. When he opened the stall door and saw Adam, he tried to straighten up. Adam thought he’d just peed… Alex knew better than to think Adam would be UPSET with him if he admitted he hadn’t, but… Alex had been in that stall for a while, the fact that he hadn’t gotten anything out in all that time was really embarrassing. And, since the issue was simply that a single, innocuous comment had rattled him too badly to unclench, that only added to the shame. He SHOULD have been able to pee, admitting that he was STILL holding on would be humiliating. Besides, they weren’t that far from their apartment, and if Alex couldn’t pee when he was TRYING to, he doubted he’d be able to have an accident during the drive back. He’d be fine, he’d just have to keep feeling uncomfortable for a bit longer than he’d anticipated. “Phew…” Adam exhaled. “Seriously almost pissed on the floor. This store ought to give us a discount to thank me for not doing that.” “F—Feel better?” Alex asked, doing his best not to feel jealous. He really wanted to leave the bathroom now. Since it was useless to him, continuing to stand around inside it was just cruel to his bladder. He bounced on his toes a couple times, before he managed to stop. He had to pretend that he was empty. Maybe if he pretended hard enough, he’d even convince himself, and the heavy pressure weighing him down would lift a little. “Way better,” Adam said, going to the sinks. Great… Alex was going to have to deal with this, too. He cringed when he heard one of the faucets turn on, the rush of water forcing him to rub his legs together. He knew he had to wash his hands as well, he was going to have to put his hands underneath that spray, feel it trickling against his skin… When he put his hands beneath the faucet, there was an abrupt and massive spike in his urgency. His thighs squeezed together and he brought himself up on the tips of his toes, trying to keep his face from twisting in agony. He knew Adam would just ask what was wrong, he knew Adam would only want to help him, but… Alex SHOULDN’T still be holding it! He should have peed, it was embarrassing that he hadn’t! Adam never had problems like that… He took his hands back out and rubbed them against his pants anxiously. He wanted to go home… He was sure he’d be able to pee as soon as he was there! Adam didn’t need to know that this had happened. Minutes later, they were in the car and about to head home. Alex struggled against the urge to squirm in his seat. Now that the seat-belt was on, wrapped around his bladder and providing it a painfully tight cradle, it was tricky not to cross his legs. Adam held his hand for a moment, “Sweet thing, are you okay?” He asked. Could Adam tell he was still full? Alex blushed, “Um—“ “That thing she said earlier… Lots of guys DO have wider hips, it’s not bad. I like how every part of your body looks.” Alex blushed more. “I don’t like them… They make me think about… Stuff…” Adam squeezed his hand tighter for a second before beginning to drive. “Can you tell me what they make you think about?” Alex’s bladder lurched with an awful spasm when the car started to move. His ankles rubbed together the instant they went over a speed-bump, liquid sloshing painfully. “Papa used to remind me how my hips are for giving birth, and that was good since I’m supposed to have lots of babies. And… I mean, I LIKE babies, I hope we can adopt one whenever we’re ready for it, but… When I think about being… pregnant, I feel… It scares me really bad…” Adam reached to rub Alex’s hand again, feeling that it was pretty clammy. “Okay, first I want you to know that your Dad should NEVER had said those things, and it’s normal that listening to that made you uncomfortable. Like, even if you actually WERE a girl, your Dad shouldn’t talk about your body that way and tell you what to do with it. Did he do that to your sisters?” “Yeah,” Alex nodded, shifting in his seat slightly. He couldn’t find any position that kept the seat-belt away from his throbbing abdomen. “Patience was close to my age, so she got it a lot. Sometimes the little ones did too.” “Gotta be honest, that’s kinda creepy,” Adam said. “You’re right to feel uncomfortable about it. And it’s also okay that the idea of pregnancy scares you. But, try not to worry TOO much about it. You’ve been on T for a long time, so it’s unlikely to happen— And, I mean, it’s IMPOSSIBLE for it to happen with me no matter WHAT we do together, so—“ “I— I know, it’s irrational,” Alex said. The car went over another bump, and Alex jostled his knee up and down for several seconds. The only reason he stopped was because he was worried he was making it too obvious. “But, I get so scared every time I think about it.” “That’s alright,” Adam said. “Sounds like this might be a phobia you have— I think I’ve read that phobias can make you think a little less rationally. I’m sorry that looking at part of your body makes you think about scary things. But… That’s not what your hips are FOR, they’re yours, so they’re for whatever YOU want to do with them.” Alex shuffled his feet. “Okay…” he said. He still didn’t sound that comfortable, so Adam added; “How about… I could teach you to dance? Maybe that can help change what you think about when you look at your hips? I dunno…” It at least SOUNDED plausible in his head. If Alex was able to associate that area of his body with something else, he SHOULD be able to feel a little better about it. Alex shrugged. He hadn’t been allowed to dance when he lived with Papa. And he was pointedly trying NOT to dance right now… “I guess that could be fun.” “Okay, awesome,” Adam smiled. “We’re gonna dance at our wedding anyways, right?” “Y—Yeah!” Alex said, smiling more now. He glanced out the window, dismayed to see that they still had a bit longer to go before they reached home. He was fidgeting more in his seat now, insides throbbing with the need to release some pressure. Oh, he wished he’d been able to pee while he’d been in that stall! He wished he’d at least managed to get some of it out… His need was creeping upwards in intensity at an alarming pace. The seatbelt was constricting his bladder to such a degree that he felt like his middle was being cut into. He was trying his best to stay still, gripping the sides of his seat so that his hands didn’t go to his crotch, tensing his legs so they wouldn’t bounce… But, he kept needing to adjust his position, searching for one that didn’t make him feel like he was going to explode. Adam noticed all of Alex’s restless movement. He thought it looked like he needed to take a leak, but he’d JUST gone a few minutes ago, hadn’t he? It must have been something else… “You’re gonna look really good in your suit,” Adam told him, hoping that would assuage any of Alex’s lingering unease. “I might have some trouble keeping my hands off you during the ceremony…” “Heh…” Alex cracked a smile, but he was far too distracted by his bladder to do much more. “You’ll look good too,” he said, continuing to stare out the window, trying to count the number of turns left to make before they’d finally be home and he’d at last be able to unload his bladder. They’d be on the highway soon, and then it wouldn’t be much further. Ten more minutes, at most. Alex could handle ten more minutes of this, even if he had to ignore all his urges to begin squirming. They turned onto the highway, and were immediately met with miles of frozen traffic. Alex’s bladder cramped painfully at the sight, and the realization that he was likely an HOUR away from home, from the relief he needed so much… “Nnnh…” Alex mewled softly without intending to, tapping a foot sharply. Adam turned, “Hm?” He asked. “What’s the matter, sweet thing?” Alex shook his head, “N—Nothing…” he said softly. Adam thought he’d JUST peed, it hadn’t been long enough for him to need it again yet! He, again, tried to pretend to himself that he really HAD used the toilet before getting in the car. He hadn’t gotten any stage-fright, everything had poured out exactly like it was supposed to. So, that meant his bladder was still mostly empty. He didn’t need to pee hardly at all. All the pretending in the world could not erase what was true, though. He was desperate to go, so desperate that his throat was constricting and panicked sweat was trickling down his neck. Trapped in the car, not moving at all, with nowhere to let it out, was making his heart pound. He shook a little from head to toe, and tucked his hands beneath his thighs, rocking side to side in his seat. Adam noticed Alex fidgeting, heard his breathing start to accelerate. “Are you sure you’re alri—“ “When will we get home?!” Alex blurted. “I want— I wanna be at home soon…” Adam looked him over. He was SERIOUSLY acting like he needed to go to the bathroom, but that couldn’t have been it. At most, it had been thirty minutes since Alex had last used the toilet. He hadn’t been drinking any more copiously than usual today. It must have been something else causing him distress. He was still upset after earlier… Adam took his hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry, with the roads all backed up it might be about an hour.” “An hour?” Alex whimpered. He’d assumed as much, but it was horrifying to hear that be confirmed. He couldn’t— He could NOT wait for another hour! He’d already waited long enough! “Is that okay?” Adam asked. “I’m really sorry, there isn’t another way home. Just hold my hand, try to feel better.” Alex gripped Adam’s hand tighter, searching for the emotional relief the action usually brought him. Nothing could make Alex feel relieved now, though. Not even clinging to Adam. “It’s okay…” Adam said gently. “We’ll be home soon, and I’ll just hold you for a while until you feel—“ “I—“ Alex interrupted, a sharp pang stabbing his opening just before a tiny spurt of warmth spilled out between his thighs. He tensed up and stamped his feet. He couldn’t do this anymore, he had to at least be free to squirm, or else he was going to have an accident all over his seat. “Adam, I… I really, really have to go…” Adam stroked Alex’s hand tenderly. Even after hearing those words, he had a difficult time believing Alex could actually be desperate again already. “Go where?” “T—To the bathroom,” Alex said, his bladder thrashing at the admission and forcing him to cross his legs. The hand not clasping Adam’s went between his legs and he rocked himself against it. “Adam, I— I need the bathroom now…” Adam squeezed his hand harder. “I—It’s okay,” he said. “Just one hour. You can—“ “I can’t!” Alex interrupted. “I can’t wait another hour, I— I’ve been waiting too long!” Adam, again, tried to calm him down. “It’s okay,” he repeated. “It hasn’t been that long. You went before we—“ “I didn’t!” Alex moaned, shuffling his feet against the floor, his bladder throbbing with nonstop pulses, each one feeling more and more like it was going to end in a leak. “I couldn’t go then, and I already had to go bad, and now I can’t wait. I’m gonna wet myself!” Panic gripped Adam too then. “You didn’t go earlier?” Alex shook his head, feeling another burst of liquid warming up his boxers. It was coming out… He had to fight even harder to restrain this leak, doubling forwards and clutching himself tightly. “I couldn’t! I tried, and it just wouldn’t come out. I thought I could make it home, but I can’t!” “… Oh,” Adam said guiltily. He’d… He’d been so focused on emptying his own bladder, that he hadn’t paid much attention to what Alex was doing in the stall. He hadn’t noticed that no trickling sounds had ever emerged from within it. He’d just assumed Alex had emptied. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize—“ “N—Not your fault,” Alex said. “I’m the one that couldn’t go…” “And that’s not YOUR fault,” Adam said. “That just happens sometimes, it’s oka—“ “I—It’s not,” Alex insisted tearfully, bouncing up and down. All the jiggling was just sloshing his bladder and irritating its sensitive walls even more, but he couldn’t stop moving around now that he’d started. “I’m gonna pee myself…” “Y—You won’t!” Adam tried to reassure him, but it really DID look like Alex was on the verge of doing exactly that. It made Adam’s heart clench to watch him in so much discomfort. When he spotted tears forming in the corners of Alex’s eyes, Adam panicked and tried to think of a solution. Alex would start to sob for real if he had an accident… Adam couldn’t stand seeing him cry. They were just barely crawling down the road, and Adam couldn’t spot any exits close to their current position. No sign indicating a gas station that could save Alex just in time. He moved to open the glove box. It was tricky for either one of them to fill a bottle while sitting down, but he’d helped Alex do it before, they could do that again. But, there weren’t any bottles, and Adam knew EXACTLY what Alex would say if he suggested he just climb out of the car and release his flood on the side of the road. Alex would never be able to do that in broad daylight, everyone being able to watch him from their cars. He’d probably be so scared about getting in trouble for it that he wouldn’t even be ABLE to pee, no matter how close to exploding his bladder he may have been. Adam remembered a story his Dad had told him once. He’d gotten desperate during a huge traffic jam before too, and eventually he’d gotten out of the car and opened the hood, pretending to look for a problem while really just using it as a shield to discreetly relieve himself onto the pavement. Would Alex be okay with THAT? No one would be able to tell what he was doing if he stood really close to the front of the car… “Sweet thing, um… I don’t think the traffic will get better for a while, and… There aren’t any bottles, and—“ “I can’t wait,” Alex moaned, contorting in all directions. “I’m gonna wet the seat— Please don’t be mad at me!” “Shhh, it’s okay,” Adam told him. “I won’t be mad at you, but you aren’t gonna wet the seat, I promise.” “But— But there’s nowhere else to go— I— I feel sick, Adam,” Alex said. “It really hurts.” His face had gone very pale, his cheeks and forehead dampening with sweat. “Just… Get out of the car, go to the front and lift up the hood. Act like there’s something wrong with the car, and then you’ll have enough cover to—“ “S—Someone will notice!” Alex protested, shifting his legs restlessly. “I don’t want to get in trouble!” “You won’t, it will be okay,” Adam reassured. “I promise.” Alex shook his head, and he looked so frightened that Adam dropped the subject. “Just— If you have to, that’s an option,” Adam said. “Hopefully we’ll see a gas station soon.” Alex nodded, moving constantly where he sat. His hair was starting to go slick from his copious sweating. He looked so pained that Adam WANTED to keep pushing him to just get out and piss in front of the car. Alex was too terrified of being caught and punished for it, though. There was a chance he’d freeze up again, and STILL not manage to drain his bladder. Adam kept glancing around the car— There had to be SOMETHING useful. If not a bottle, then… Something, anything! He wanted to get Alex some relief as badly as Alex himself wanted it! Finally, he turned around in his seat and spotted a few towels left in the back from when they’d visited a pool with Camille. There were four towels, if they were layered, they’d hold a lot, especially if Alex didn’t let it all out in the same spot. Adam reached and grabbed them, tugging them to the front. “O—Okay, how about… Uh, just… stand up for a second and pull down your pants.” Alex looked up from the huddled, trembling ball of desperate knots he’d tied himself into. “H—Huh?” “Move your pants out of the way, and then you can sit on these towels, so if you… If you can’t make it, you won’t wet your clothes or stain the seat or anything.” “But, the towels—“ “We can wash them, it will be fine,” Adam said. “It’s okay. I’d rather have stained towels than see you in pain.” “O—Okay,” Alex said. He hurried to unbuckle his seatbelt, and after a few moments of fumbling with his shaking hands, managed to unlatch it. The sudden release of the belt from around his aching bladder felt really good, but the loss of pressure reminded him so much of the feeling of actually PEEING that it made him moan. He pushed his clothing down around his ankles as Adam spread the towels out on his seat, one atop the other. When Alex lowered himself onto them, naked from the waist down, he squirmed with discomfort. It felt weird to be so exposed in the car, even if he knew no one but Adam could see. “There…” Adam said. “Now, if you start to pee, pay attention to how wet the towels are getting, move them a bit if you think they’re too soaked. But, with four of them, I think they should be able to hold everything.” “Wh—What if they can’t?” “Then we can clean whatever makes it to the seat,” Adam said. “It will be fine. You can keep trying to wait, but it’s okay if you use the towels.” Alex felt better already upon hearing that. A lot of the panic left him. Just, the knowledge that he didn’t NEED to hold it all in until he got home was a relief. For several minutes, he felt so much more secure that it was actually EASIER to hold his bladder in. He was even able to put his seatbelt back in place with only minimal discomfort. Then, they finally started moving again! Alex sighed, feeling hopeful. There should be a gas station soon, he’d get to relieve his bladder PROPERLY into an actual toilet. It really WOULD be okay. Only, then the car in front of them came to a sudden stop and Adam had to slam on the brakes. Alex was jolted hard, his seatbelt pulling him backwards and squeezing so firmly into his bladder that a hard gush of pee hissed out from between his legs, wetting the towels and— Ohhh, it felt so good… He actually LET it continue for a few seconds before remembering what he was doing, squirming his thighs together in an attempt to stop it. He managed to slow it down, but it continued to trickle slowly. Adam took his hand again, having heard the hiss of his loss of control. “It’s okay… Shhh… Just let it all go…” He rubbed Adam’s thumb slightly, encouraging. “Pretend you’re on the toilet…” Alex shut his eyes and tried to do that. He wasn’t in the car, he was in the restroom. He was sitting on the toilet, because it was the middle of the night and he was sleepy and bursting. He’d woken up from a dream filled with watery imagery, and he had to go so bad that he’d barely sat down in time. His spray resumed, leaking out into the material of the towels underneath him. He could feel the warmth spreading out in between his thighs and around his butt, and it wasn’t the most pleasant sensation, but his bladder finally squeezing itself dry felt so amazingly wonderful that it didn’t bother him too much. “Haaahhhh…” he exhaled, starting to shudder, a smile forming on his face. “There you go…” Adam said. “That’s better… Just let it happen…” Alex did, completely forgetting where he was. All he could comprehend was the immense relief and satisfaction of finally giving his body what it so desperately needed. It pumped out of him in a strong, pressurized rush, the towels beneath him rapidly saturating. He forgot that he was supposed to watch out for that until Adam reminded him. “That part’s pretty wet now, move over a little…” Alex reached and adjusted the towels, starting to flood a dryer spot now. “Ahhhh…” he moaned, shaking harder. “Feel good now?” Adam asked. “Yeah…” “Good…” Adam said, continuing to rub Alex’s hand until he was completely empty, just sitting there blearily as the final drips seeped from him. Alex made no move to get back up or remove the towels, still adjusting to how it felt not to be exploding. “All finished?” Adam said. “Yes,” Alex nodded. Finally, he stood up and pulled his pants back on. He carefully rolled the towels back up, and was even more relieved when he saw nothing had made it onto the seat. “Where do I put the—“ “Just, on the floor is fine,” Adam said. Alex left the towels by his feet and sat back down. “Phew…” “Everything okay now?” Alex nodded again. “Thank you…” “You’re welcome,” Adam told him. “And… Next time you’re having trouble peeing, it’s alright to tell me, you know? It’s fine to get stage-fright every now and then, it happens.” “You haven’t ever had that problem,” Alex said. “Only me.” “That’s not true,” Adam shook his head. “I’ve had it happen before too. The first time I used a urinal? I had a LOT of trouble. All the stalls were taken, I was bursting, and I hadn’t gotten good at using my STP through a zipper yet. I couldn’t go at all, but I couldn’t hold it anymore either. I told my Dad and he taught me this way I can breathe to calm myself down, and that worked when I tried to go again. If you tell me when you’re having trouble, I can help you.” “O—Okay,” Alex said. “Next time…” “Good.”

Vegeta was regretting his decision to come on Kakarot’s stupid trip. As far as he understood it, the inhabitants of most planets developed some form of housing so that they wouldn’t NEED to sleep outside. Yet, for some incomprehensible reason, Earthlings thought that spending multiple nights outside was a form of leisure activity. They claimed it was meant to be relaxing. Upon hearing that, Vegeta tried again to remember if he’d ever relaxed. He came up empty, but he was certain that if he HAD done it, it hadn’t involved any of the nights he’d spent laying in dirt. Trunks wanted to do it, however. Because Goten was doing it. And, when Kakarot had come over last week to discuss it with Bulma, going on and on about how much fun HE’D had as a child when he’d lived by himself in the woods, all the things he could teach the kids— Just shoving it in Vegeta’s face that he thought he was SO much better at this than him— What choice did Vegeta have?! Kakarot was coming into HIS house, bragging about all these ‘outdoors skills’, as if Vegeta didn’t have ANY of his own! Of COURSE Vegeta had to announce his intentions to come along, if only to show Kakarot how wrong he was! Now, sure, Kakarot hadn’t SAID anything about being better than Vegeta, but what did that matter? It wasn’t until he arrived at the campground with Trunks and Kakarot’s family that Vegeta grew concerned that this had been a terrible idea. The area was a lot more… populated than he’d been expecting. He’d THOUGHT they’d be doing this right around where Kakarot lived, THOSE woods were basically deserted. Kakarot’s bride, however, had insisted on visiting a more scenic location. The result was that they weren’t alone in these woods, people were milling around in the distance, setting up their own campsites, and Vegeta was VERY aware of their presence. He couldn’t switch off his chi-sensing ability; Even when they got to a clearing far enough away from everyone else that they’d been removed from his view, he could still FEEL how crowded the area really was. Vegeta HAD considered his problem when he’d agreed to come. Since he’d been in similar areas before on other planets— spaces without restrooms where he’d have no choice but to void outside— he’d thought he could manage this. The absolute worst case scenario would only necessitate him requesting Kakarot’s aid. Annoying and debasing, but something he was learning to live with. Now that he knew how many people were actually HERE, and that he’d have a difficult time getting his body to stop noticing their power-levels, Vegeta was having second thoughts. Of course, it wasn’t as though he was TRAPPED here. Hastily adjusting his ‘worst case scenario’ plan, he decided that if it came down to it, he could always just fly home for a bit and come back. It would barely take him half an hour to do that. Kakarot and Trunks would probably know what he was doing, and that was… Not too utterly terrible. He’d need an excuse to give to the rest of Kakarot’s family, however— THEY did not need to know about this. Hell, he was accustomed to holding his bladder for entire days. He might be able to get away with only relieving himself after everyone had gone to sleep each night. Then he wouldn’t have to worry about flying back and forth. Yes. He’d be fine. Goku hadn’t expected this place to be so well populated, either. Chi-Chi had picked it because of some really big, impressive waterfall that people apparently liked to visit. It was the thought of the waterfall, and the sight of the crowds, that made Goku worry a little. He’d known from the start that Vegeta was bound to need his ‘help’ at some point during their trip, and that was going to be more complicated than he’d thought. He’d pay careful attention to Vegeta like he always did. If his friend seemed to be in serious distress, he’d… He’d tell Vegeta that he needed something from Bulma. That way he could fly home for a bit, and no one would know the real reason he had to leave. Vegeta had a large bladder though, so if he stayed reasonably comfortable throughout the day, then Goku would simply encourage his family and Trunks to go to sleep early. Vegeta shouldn’t have any trouble going then. Goku could handle this, he knew he could. Indeed, Vegeta didn’t start acting ‘twitchy’ until later that evening. He moved in a restless manner as Goku cooked the massive fish he and Goten had caught over a fire. Since it was late, Goku figured Vegeta would be alright waiting until the rest of them had gone to sleep. Vegeta sat beside Chi-Chi, fanning his legs in and out while he watched Trunks play with Kakarot’s littlest brat. They were competing in some way, but Vegeta couldn’t work out the rules of their strange game until Trunks gripped the side of a massive boulder and shoved it forwards a small distance. “Beat that!” Goten nodded and stepped up to the enormous rock. Vegeta continued to watch. If the boy managed to move it further than Trunks had, Trunks would spend the entirety of the next week in the gravity room, Vegeta would make sure of tha— “You Saiyans have too much energy!” Chi-Chi commented. “You go one day without a fight and you can’t stop fidgeting!” Vegeta looked down at his bouncing knee. He hadn’t even noticed how much he was beginning to squirm. Shamefully, he tried to stop. He’d relieved himself just that morning, it couldn’t have been more than twelve hours since he’d last emptied his bladder. He shouldn’t NEED to move around yet. As soon as his leg went still, the buzzing in his abdomen increased startlingly and he tensed up in order to resist the urge to continue wriggling. His legs started to shake slightly, and there was nothing he could do about that. At least it was subtle enough no one would notice. Chi-Chi was no longer focused on him, her attention turned instead towards Gohan. Even more confusing than the idea that sleeping in dirt was in any way relaxing, Gohan had thus far spent the entirety of their trip reading. Why would he subject himself to several nights outdoors if he was not even going to take advantage of his surroundings to get himself stronger? “Yes, Gohan, what is it?” “Um, m—may I go pee before we eat?” Gohan asked. Chi-Chi sighed. “Yes, Gohan… You really don’t have to ask, remember?” She looked back at Vegeta. “I did raise him to be polite, but I think he goes overboard sometimes…” Vegeta tried to casually cross one of his legs over the other, he managed it, but it didn’t help. If anything, changing his position only made his bladder throb harder. Had Gohan never explained his ‘problem’ to his mother? Did it shame him somehow? Gohan’s ‘problem’ was barely even a problem! He could still relieve himself wherever he wanted to, it couldn’t have been THAT hard to find someone to give him permission! If all Vegeta needed was for someone to TELL him to relieve himself, everything would be so much easier. He struggled not to feel JEALOUS as Gohan got up and walked away. And he was more relieved than he’d like to admit when he saw that Gohan was at least a little more discreet than Kakarot. He actually bothered to head a decent distance into the foliage before peeing, rather than doing it right in the open like his idiot father often would. Nevertheless, Vegeta’s hearing was STILL so strong, and his bladder so raw, that he was acutely aware of the sound Gohan’s stream made as it struck the dirt. It made Vegeta feel jittery. The noise was a merciless tease to his own bladder, and now that he knew how far the sound could travel out here, he was fighting to push a very unpleasant idea away. The idea that he could accidentally WAKE someone while he was voiding tonight and cause them to notice what he was doing. Gohan peed for a while— Or at least, that was how it felt to Vegeta, being forced to just sit there, listen and hold it. He wasn’t comfortable, and when a spasm tried to convince him that it was, perhaps, a good idea to go talk to Kakarot soon, he tensed up his thighs to banish the thought. It was late, he was so close. Soon, the others would be asleep, and he’d be able to handle this on his OWN like he was SUPPOSED to. Going to Kakarot was the last resort, only to be used during a true emergency. If his back wasn’t hurting, that meant he could handle it. So, he continued to handle it. The biggest issue was still ensuring that Kakarot’s family couldn’t tell that he was in need of anything. He fought against the pressing urge to squirm, and when the fish was ready, he struggled to eat with the amount of fervor EXPECTED from a Saiyan. It was just difficult to put something INTO his body when something else needed so much to come out, and he was aware he was shoveling food into his mouth at a much slower pace than he usually would. Chi-Chi noticed, but all she did was mumble that Bulma must have finally taught him some basic table manners. “If only Goku could learn the same thing…” The sun started to set, and Vegeta’s bladder cramped with anticipation. Soon. He’d get to relieve the pressure very soon. He knew he could handle this… He could survive only going once a day after everyone was asleep. This trip wouldn’t be that long, and he could go back to normal as soon as it was over. This was uncomfortable and he didn’t ENJOY it, but he could live with it for now. No big deal. Once darkness fell and Goku had coaxed Goten and Trunks to bed, Vegeta stayed awake, waiting for the others to start snoring. At least they all had their eyes shut, he was free to squirm as much as he wanted. He scissored his legs back and forth and bounced on his heels. It felt so good to move… He crossed his ankles and allowed his knees to rub together, making up for lost time after so many hours of forced stillness. As soon as he was sure everyone was sleeping, he walked out of the clearing and… Into a very bright light. What the Hell? Shielding his eyes, he looked up to spot a massive light hanging from a tree branch overhead. He remembered now, Chi-Chi had mentioned those. They were motion-activated, because unlike Saiyans, humans could barely see in the dark. Did those things HAVE to be so bright? It was giving him a headache, and reminding him of that irritating attack Kakarot’s three-eyed friend had created. Oh, the number of times he’d been struck blind by that before receiving a fist to his face… He got out from under the light, paced a bit further down the trail and accidentally set off another one. One of his hands twitched, palm starting to heat up. Those lights were annoying, a good blast of chi would take care of them… And it would wake everyone up. Kakarot’s woman would scream at him and then NEVER go back to sleep. No more privacy, after he’d spent SO much time waiting for it. He moved away from the light and waited for it to switch back off. He looked from side to side, hoped that this area would suffice and readied himself to pee. It was quiet now, the only noises being that of the bugs. After a few minutes, he felt a stunning point of pressure around his urethral opening. Finally, that was it! He forced himself to push into the pain, aware that it was the only way to free himself of it. Any second now, he would start to dribble, he would at last start to urinate, he would— From the corner of his eye, he noticed another bright light flash on in the distance. Everything stopped immediately, the pressure faded, and he no longer felt as though he was on the edge of voiding. His bladder felt as locked down and impenetrable as ever before. And it HURT. The small ring of muscle separating his urine from the outside world stung and screamed and flared with anger. The walls of his bladder spasmed roughly, and icicles formed within his chest. Fuck… Was someone… Focus. Vegeta would be able to SENSE if a human was present in the direction the light had come from. He shut his eyes and concentrated. It was a strain to feel anything past the pain of his full bladder, but after a few seconds he could sense a lot of things. Trouble was, he couldn’t focus well enough to tell them apart. He knew the super small power levels he was picking up on likely belonged to birds and insects. But, there were larger ones— Still not very impressive, but strong enough to be coming from a human. Or a deer. Or a wolf… Vegeta didn’t think he’d care that much if an animal happened upon him while he was trying to void. Most of the animals on Earth weren’t intelligent enough to know that he was doing anything embarrassing. Since he couldn’t tell if those power levels were from deer or humans, though… Okay, maybe trying to sense chi hadn’t been the best idea. He was all too aware of EVERY living thing within miles of him now, and any time he picked up on something moving— No matter how microscopic its power was— his holding muscles twisted tighter, instead of loosening. ‘Ignore it, ignore it, stop…’ Vegeta told himself, trying to redirect ALL of his attention to his bladder and the task at hand. That wasn’t too hard to do, he needed to go so bad that it was an easy thing to focus on. ‘You almost had it a few moments ago, just—‘ Another light blared to life way off to his right. Immediately, and without meaning to, he concentrated on chi sources again. ‘That feels like it could be a person, they might be coming closer.’ He stumbled deeper into the trees, frustrated beyond belief. This was utterly ridiculous! He SHOULD just go blow up all those stupid lights. HE could see FINE without them! He glanced back and forth as he adjusted his aim. He felt like he was in more of a bargaining stage now. If he could only get out SOME of his urine, he thought he’d be satisfied with that. If he only let out just enough to take the EDGE off for a few more hours, he could accept that! His bladder refused to grant him even a drop. The glacial feelings in his chest hadn’t faded since the moment the first light had come on, and no ‘reassurances’ he tried to give himself melted the ice even a little. Okay! That was it! He’d had MORE than enough of this! Vegeta could FLY. He could fly REALLY fast, and he could go HOME. At home, there wouldn’t be any stupid motion lights to convince him that someone was about to walk in on him. At home, he could relieve himself, and then fly RIGHT back. No one would even know! Vegeta put his clothing back together and, once more, had to get himself to concentrate on something that WASN’T his bladder. As he tried to gather enough chi to get in the air, his hands went between his legs and started to squeeze. He almost forced them away, but it… It felt so much better this way… He managed to get off the ground and started to raise higher into the sky. He barely made it above the trees before his bladder twisted up like a corkscrew, shuddered like it was collapsing in on itself, and cramped down so violently that he nearly just FELL back down to the ground. He caught himself in time and lowered himself to his feet, horror dawning as the ice in his chest started to move up through his shoulders. His… His own body was… It was preventing him from flying. He had reached a limit, the limit for how badly he could need to pee before he lost the ability to fly. He wasn’t supposed to HAVE any limits! He DIDN’T have limits! THAT had been a fluke! Something— Something just got in his eye! Yeah! It messed up his concentration. He COULD fly. He COULD get home! He started the process over again, ignoring that it was taking far longer than it had any right to. Usually, he could get in the air the instant he wanted, it wasn’t supposed to take a minute for him to prepare. But, that was fine. Moving SLOWER than usual was acceptable. He could forgive himself for that. He couldn’t forgive himself if he really WASN’T able to fly at all. His feet lifted from the ground and he attempted to blast straight up. This time, he didn’t even reach the tops of the trees before his control over his chi shattered, and his bladder’s walls squeezed and stretched with a violent, fervent intensity. He struggled to even land gently enough that he didn’t accidentally rock his bladder too much. The cold feeling was starting to slowly ease its way down to his fingertips. Vegeta knew that one option remained. He knew what he COULD do— what he HAD to do. He needed to be able to teleport home. Which meant he needed to go wake Kakarot up. ‘Pathetic,’ he thought scornfully. The thought of shoving Kakarot around until his eyes cracked open, then having to pitifully explain how much he needed to go home for a minute… For some reason, he thought Kakarot might even tell him ‘no’. For some reason, he had a very clear image of Kakarot saying ‘No, Vegeta. I’m exhausted. Let me rest.’ And, if Kakarot DID say that, and Vegeta got… Frantic… The most mortifying picture of himself BEGGING Kakarot popped into his mind’s eye, and no amount of ‘Kakarot wouldn’t DO that!’ could chase it away. He had no idea where these awful ideas were coming from, but they were sticking to his brain like glue and he couldn’t risk them coming to fruition. Vegeta had gone to sleep with a full bladder before, and he’d always been fine. Tomorrow, as soon as he and Kakarot got a moment alone, all of this could be resolved. Vegeta went back to their clearing. He laid down, in the dirt, and just as he’d predicted nothing about it was calming. His insides were churning, his urethra burning, his chest cold. Everything below his waist was drenched in flame, everything above frozen solid. Somehow, he managed to lose himself to a sleep filled with troubled dreams. Again, he found himself staring up at Frieza. Just like in the previous dreams, his vision was cloudy. But, this time he felt more aware of what exactly was obscuring his sight. His eyes were burning in a strange, vaguely familiar way. To his immense horror, he realized the stinging sensation meant that he was crying. He DIDN’T cry, he did NOT… He’d only done it once or twice in his entire life, he was NOT crying now. Frieza’s speech was muffled, like usual. However, this time, Vegeta could pick up on a few scattered words between the incomprehensible streams of mush. “Pathetic… Useless… Unworthy…” When he woke up, there were tears in the corners of his eyes. He furiously brushed them away before realizing that they had likely been caused by the horrific pain currently ripping into him. Only his lower back was aching so far, but his bladder itself felt like it was being CRUSHE— Oh. “Tr—Trunks, get the Hell off of me!” Vegeta snapped, voice sharp. “What is wrong with you?!” Trunks moved back, blinking, and now Vegeta noticed Goten was here too. “I’m sorry, Dad. Goten and I really wanna go play in the waterfall, and his Mom said we aren’t allowed to go there if no one’s with us.” Blasted woman… Trunks and his friend could never be in any danger if they were alone. The danger would only be to whoever was AROUND them. Vegeta wriggled as he sat up, eyes widening as the massive weight filling up his bladder shifted within him. It was— It was morning. He neede— He WANTED Kakarot. He glanced around, to his dismay he saw that Kakarot was still asleep. “I’ll take you later, after Kakarot and I have… Fought.” “He’s asleep!” Goten pointed out, whining. Nails on a fucking chalkboard… Usually, Vegeta could tolerate Trunks’s playmate a BIT longer than this, but his nerves were worn down to almost nothing. “He’ll be up when we get back!” The very last place Vegeta wanted to go was ANYWHERE with a waterfall. He didn’t even want to IMAGINE waterfalls right now. If Kakarot didn’t get up and take him home NOW, Vegeta was going to MAKE a— No. No, he was not. Of course he wasn’t. He couldn’t. Even if he wanted to. “Come ON, Dad,” Trunks complained. Somehow, TRUNKS’S whining wasn’t as grating as Goten’s. Probably just because Trunks didn’t look like a tiny clone of Kakarot— Who STILL wasn’t waking up! “F—Fine,” Vegeta said. “Fine. But only for a little while. I need Kakarot to… To fight me very soon.” “Okay,” Goten and Trunks agreed. The walk TO the waterfall was Hell. Vegeta still hadn’t even woken up all the way, everything EXCEPT for his bladder felt sluggish and numb. Being surrounded on all sides by trees was torture. There were few occasions where Vegeta honestly wished his brain could be more like Kakarot’s, but this was one of them. If he were as incapable of shame as his rival, he’d be able to sprint to the closest tree and just… Go. Without a care. It wouldn’t matter how many people were looking. He hadn’t even been able to manage it last night when NO ONE was looking, when he’d just thought that someone MIGHT. The thought of last night, the entirety of yesterday, how horridly long he’d already been holding all this in… It had been over twenty four hours now. Twenty four hours had always been the length of time it usually took for him to start ‘breaking’. For the desperation to begin driving him insane, for the back aches to become nauseating, for him to lose all ability to conceal what was wrong. He reminded himself that the LONGEST he’d ever held it for was TWO days. And, when he did that, he was rewarded with getting so angry that he turned Super Saiyan for the first time! Maybe if he had to break that record now, he’d unlock ANOTHER new ability, something even more powerful than ANYTHING Kakarot had ever reached. Yes. If he had to hold it until it hurt so bad that he missed how it felt to be dead, then he’d be able to go several levels BEYOND Super Saiyan! Yeah. The desperation was DEFINITELY starting to drive him insane, that was for sure. “Truuunks, slow down!” Goten complained. Vegeta snapped back to the moment at hand, prepared to shout at Goten to keep up. Then, he realized why the boy was struggling. Goten was doing a bit of a dance. Dammit. WHY hadn’t he gone before they’d left?! “Ugh, fine,” Trunks said, coming to a stop. “If you can’t hold it, just go.” Vegeta looked away. He REALLY hoped Goten would choose to address his need more like how his BROTHER did it, and not like his idiot father. ‘Don’t do it right here. Not in front of me. Not when I—‘ Of course, Goten HAD to take after his father. He ran up to a bush that provided barely any cover, and just… Went. “Ahhhhh…. Much better!” Vegeta swore he could hear every drop individually as it splattered the bush. His bladder twisted, convulsed, and the ache in his back creeped upwards ever so slightly. He put a hand against his tender side, trying to soothe some of the tension out. It was no use. Every bit of him was in knots, struggling to react to an unreal level of need. If he wasn’t so sure he’d just lose control and land on the ground again, Vegeta would have flown off right then, let Chi-Chi complain about him leaving the kids alone, he wouldn’t care. He just NEEDED— “Okay, all done,” Goten said happily. “Finally,” Trunks grumbled. “Now, come on. If we don’t hurry, people’ll beat us there and we won’t be allowed to use our powers!” They made it to the waterfall, Goten and Trunks immediately took off and started to wrestle one another in the water. Vegeta watched them and came to one conclusion; This was literally worse than Hell. He’d BEEN there before, and it wasn’t as bad as this. The waterfall itself was SO loud, roaring and rippling, spraying with a violent force. It was so much like what Vegeta needed to do that he kept having to turn his back to the kids so that he could hold himself without notice. Add onto that the sound of Goten and Trunks splashing around, and Vegeta’s head felt as full of liquid as his bladder did. He thought he might manage to drown in his own revolting fluids. It hurt, he was going to burst, it was too much, he couldn’t— He could. He could. He always could… There was no such word as ‘can’t’ in his vocabulary. It had no place there. He had to hold it now, and so that was what he’d do. He’d endure it, however long it took. Soon, he could walk back, grab Kakarot by the shirt and DEMAND that he take him home NOW. It would be over. It would all finally be over. As he was forced to continue listening to the sloshing water, Vegeta was hit by another idea. A vile, disgusting one that was THOROUGHLY beneath him, but an idea nonetheless. He couldn’t handle anyone KNOWING that he was peeing, but if there was a way for him to do it where it would be IMPOSSIBLE to notice… No one would notice if he voided in the water, would they? If he submerged himself and just… Let go, nothing visible would happen, there would be no trickling sounds. No one would be able to tell. He didn’t LIKE the idea, technically he would be peeing in his clothing, but it would be washed off right away. Only HE would know it happened, if he could just forgive himself for the transgression, accept that these were extenuating circumstances… Temperature… Urine was warm. Goten and Trunks might be able to feel it. They’d probably just blame EACH OTHER, but since Goten had JUST peed, he wasn’t so sure. Maybe the water was ALREADY kind of warm and they wouldn’t notice? Vegeta stepped to the edge and hesitantly stuck one of his boots into the water— No way was he gonna bend down to take them off unless he KNEW he was about to pee. The liquid felt cold, too cold for his intended use. He’d have to do it further away from them. At least the lake was large. He could get away with this, he could… Painstakingly, he forced himself to kneel and tug off his boots. His bladder felt like it was being smashed between two bricks of Kattin Steel. Surprisingly, he felt that stinging pain at his opening that usually came right before he began to pee. It made him panic and squeeze himself, but also made him hopeful. That was the closest he’d felt to an ‘involuntary release’ this whole time, maybe that meant he WOULD be able to go. He stood and pulled his gloves off with his teeth, tossing them next to his boots, then he got into the water, as far away from Goten and Trunks as he could. When the cold water lapped at his fingers, he flinched and put his hands against his chest instead. Once he was submerged up to his waist, he shut his eyes and ordered himself to let go. He could hear the kids splashing and yelling at each other, and continually reminded himself that, when he peed, it wouldn’t make a noise. No one would be able to tell. The scorching pinch returned to his opening and, more hopeful than he would have admitted, he pushed into it, his jaw tensing, lower abdominals straining. He felt something! It was working! Warmth was forming around his crotch, and it both revolted him and made him breathe a little easier. It was finally happening! This was over! He’d handled it, and he hadn’t needed Kakarot’s help! He was still at the stage where it just HURT to keep forcing out his stream, but he didn’t DARE ease up, he would NOT allow himself to stop voiding until he was empty. He wanted all of it out, NOW. He felt the shift that would turn his dribbles into something as great as the waterfall roaring into the lake, his taut holding muscles snapped at last and finally went slack. Phew… That was so much bett— A sharp tug at his arm made him stumble backwards, and cease urinating altogether. “Come on, Dad, play with us!” Trunks said. “Goten says he can hold his breath longer than me, you gotta be the judge so he knows he can’t!” “Trunks— I was—“ Vegeta stopped. Now that he knew what relief felt like, he wanted it back, but his body refused to resume the process with Trunks right there. The coldness gripped him instead, hoping that Trunks didn’t think the water felt any warmer than usual around here. “Fine, I’ll watch your contest,” he said. He trudged through the water after Trunks. The resistance placed on his abdomen by the fluid was brutally punishing. Having been cut off midstream like that, Vegeta’s bladder was flaring wildly, pushing viciously against an exit-pathway that had once more been blocked shut. His back wasn’t aching at all anymore though. He told himself that meant he’d gotten a decent amount of his burden out. Maybe enough that he could fly again… He observed Goten and Trunks as they both dove their heads under water. They each stayed down for a decent amount of time, about what Vegeta would expect from a Saiyan child. Goten was the first one to come up and gasp for air, followed by Trunks, whom immediately started to laugh and taunt him. The water no longer being of any use to him, Vegeta got out, shoved his feet back into his boots and placed his gloves back over his hands. He felt a little lighter now, he supposed. He still REALLY wanted to relieve himself, but he definitely thought he’d be able to fly now. He had to concentrate more than he typically did to get into the air, and his bladder shifted painfully when he finally managed it. Trunks noticed what he was doing and called “Where are you going, Dad? Don’t leave us yet!” Vegeta sighed and lowered slightly to speak to him. “I— I forgot something at home, I will be back soo—“ “Get it later!” Trunks whined. “We never spend time together unless we’re training!” Trunks… Knew of his problem now. And he didn’t care. Vegeta could say “Actually, I just need to go home so I can relieve myself.” And Trunks wouldn’t care. Maybe Vegeta WOULD be able to do that if Goten weren’t right next to him. ‘Stop caring what a seven year old thinks,’ Vegeta ordered himself. It wasn’t so much what Goten would think that bothered him though, it was who Goten would TELL. He had a hard time believing THAT child would keep quiet. Goten would find out, and the next thing Vegeta knew, everyone in his life would suddenly be aware. “F—Fine, Trunks,” Vegeta said. “I’ll stay a while longer.” ‘A while longer’ turned into ‘most of the day’, and Vegeta made several more attempts to finish draining himself into the water. But, after the first time, he wasn’t even able to get himself STARTED again. It didn’t help that the lake grew more crowded as the day pressed on, more people to notice if he suddenly DID manage to make the water warmer. By dinnertime, Vegeta no longer felt like he’d let out ANYTHING at all, his bladder was as full as ever. In spite of the immense pain, he forced himself to walk QUICKLY back to their campsite. Kakarot would DEFINITELY be awake by now, and he was sure that his bladder wasn’t going to let him fly. He didn’t want this to be the case, but Kakarot was his ONLY option. But, when they got back, Kakarot wasn’t THERE. Only his elder son was present. “Wh—Where is your moron of a father?” Vegeta demanded, hoping that the tremor in his voice wasn’t noticeable. Gohan looked up from his book. “Mom wanted to go on a romantic walk with him,” he said. “… And did Kakarot have any idea what that was?” “Uh, no,” Gohan said. “He assumed it was a special hike where you get to eat food the whole time…” “Wh—When will he return?” Vegeta asked. “I need… He assured me we would fight one another during this trip. I am growing quite impatient.” Gohan lowered his book to get a better look at Vegeta, instantly noticing how close his legs were pressed to one another, and the tremors raking through his entire body. Gohan recognized what those twitches meant now, and figured that this was not the best place for Vegeta to be. Doubtless, he’d been in plenty of spots without restrooms before, and had managed it somehow. He could probably fly all the way home when he needed to and be back within half an hour… “Well, they just left a little bit ago. So, if there’s anything you… Anything you wanted to do to ‘prepare’, you have time.” Vegeta paced in a small circle for a moment, “N—Nothing I wanted to do,” he said. He tried to focus again, tried to pick out Kakarot’s chi from all the others he could feel, tried to figure out how far away he was. It was easy to locate Kakarot, his power-level was far greater than anyone else’s. He was a troubling distance away and, as he was walking with a human, it would take him a while to get here. ‘Hurry the Hell up, Kakarot…’ Gohan shrugged. He was used to fighting taking precedence over everything else for Vegeta, but he really DID have plenty of time to go home and take care of things before Dad got here. Vegeta folded his arms and tried to sway as minutely as he could manage. Gohan was still looking at him, he could NOT allow him to figure out how embarrassingly desperate he was, how he’d been holding it for about a day and a half now, only granted the tiniest reprieve in the lake earlier. Goten ran to sit beside his brother, and started to chatter about his day at the lake. At least two of them were distracted now… Trunks was still paying attention to him, though, gaze fixated on his trembling legs. “Dad?” He asked. “Are you okay?” “Fine,” Vegeta said. “Just want to fight Kakarot soon.” Trunks kept staring, then shrugged. “Okay…” He went up to Gohan as well, interrupting Goten to announce “I can hold my breath the longest!” All of them distracted, Vegeta tried to just stand there and wait, remaining as still as he could. The tiny spurts of pee he’d released into the lake felt like absolutely nothing now, and the pain was continuing to climb through his back. It felt dangerously close to THAT point— The point where it became VERY hard not to cry out and vocalize his agony. His eyes widened as his bladder seized up and started to surge downwards. It was akin to the feeling of holding it in the gravity chamber, but so much more concerning because NOTHING extra was weighing him down. A hand darted to his crotch and gave it a quick squeeze. When he let go, the blind pain ramped up and he was forced to do it again, right away, and if ANY of those three looked, they’d see how needy he was, and— He darted from the clearing and hid behind a smattering of trees. Privacy at last… Not enough of it for him to actually GO like he wanted, but enough that he could writhe and hold himself. He doubled over immediately, squeezing himself tightly— A little TOO tightly, since he managed to hurt himself for a second before he remembered to ease up. No matter how bad he had to go, if he held himself with ALL of his strength… Trunks said he wanted to be a big brother someday, Vegeta shouldn’t jeopardize that. He coiled his legs around one another, letting them rub as he squeezed away at his crotch. His bladder was pulling him apart at the seams, bursting painfully against his clothing. He was glad that Saiyan battle suits stretched so well, if the material were digging into him any more… He moaned, horrified that his bladder could force such a noise from his lips, legs tangling like a poorly constructed pretzel. The squeezing started to help and he sighed at the slight relief. His clenched palms were ebbing away some of his pain. He knew he couldn’t allow himself to enjoy it for very long, however. Eventually, Trunks would wonder where his father had gone. He looked down at himself, at the engorged bump protruding within him. Kakarot had gotten startled the last time he’d noticed it. This time, Vegeta looked significantly more swollen. Maybe he wouldn’t even HAVE to tell Kakarot anything, he’d just SEE how painfully stretched his bladder was and teleport him home without a word… Vegeta couldn’t decide if his urgency being THAT blatant was less embarrassing than having to talk about it. When he suddenly became aware that Kakarot’s power was drawing closer, he forced himself out from behind the trees and back to the clearing. Soon, finally… Kakarot arrived minutes later with his wife. Vegeta stumbled closer to him, “Kakar—“ “Dad wants to fight you really bad,” Trunks said. “He’s been talking about it all day.” “I know, I promised I’d fight with you,” Kakarot said. “But, I’m starving and…” He trailed off, eyes resting on Vegeta’s feet that he couldn’t stop from bouncing. “And it’s really late, so we should go to bed as soon as we eat. Let’s save the fight for tomorrow.” “Kakarot, could you—“ Vegeta jerked his head to the side, trying to get across that he wanted to speak with him in PRIVATE, but Kakarot’s attention had already been snatched away by Goten, babbling about HIS day. Goku tried to prepare their dinner a little faster this time. Vegeta seemed WAY more desperate than he had last night! Probably because he’d spent all day at the waterfall. Poor guy must have been DYING for everyone to go to bed so he could pee. Goku had actually wondered if he ought to teleport Vegeta HOME for a few minutes or something. But, well, he KNEW how Vegeta was, he’d be insulted if Goku suggested he ‘give up’ when he was so close. They’d all be asleep in an hour or so, Vegeta would be furious at the idea that he couldn’t handle just one more hour. Goku sometimes thought of this as a balancing act, to help Vegeta without also damaging his ego and setting him off. He liked to think he USUALLY guessed correctly when deciding what to do. Throughout dinner, Vegeta was eating WAY slower than usual. Chi-Chi, again, commended him for finally learning how to eat politely, shooting Goku a look as he kept stuffing food into his mouth so quickly it was a wonder he was able to chew it. Goku noticed Vegeta kept looking over at him, and widening his eyes. Goku tried to shoot HIM a look that said ‘I know, I’ll get the kids to bed as FAST as I can, it will be okay.’ Goku did manage to get Trunks and Goten to head to sleep quickly. Luckily, they were tired out after their day. Then, he started to lay down himself. Vegeta was off to the side, making no move to head to sleep. He was shuffling between his feet, hands clasped in front of himself, looking so utterly urgent… Vegeta wanted to snap at Kakarot that he’d been TRYING to tell him something all evening, but now that his rival was heading to bed, he— for some reason— hesitated. He didn’t know why, but he was just SURE Kakarot would tell him no, because he was too tired. And then Vegeta would have to beg him… ‘That isn’t GOING to happen,’ Vegeta screamed at himself. ‘You KNOW it won’t happen. Where is this even COMING from?’ It HAD to have been from somewhere, irrational thoughts didn’t just appear out of nothing, something must have— He could hear the kids and Gohan snoring, Chi-Chi seemed to be asleep. Kakarot may have still been up, but— Those stupid, nonsensical ideas wouldn’t let him GO to him! Maybe tonight Vegeta would have some better luck managing this himself. He was SUPPOSED to be able to do this on his own! Once more, he failed. Those stupid lights kept going off in the pitch black of the night, and he honestly couldn’t tell if he was sensing a wolf wandering around near him or a human. His bladder, so brutally full that he felt close to vomiting, refused to ease up. The pains in his back continued to build and build and, just like always, there was no way to predict when they’d— “Gaahhaaahhh…” Vegeta moaned into the darkness, miserable as it suddenly felt like his kidneys were being drenched in a mixture of boiling acid and molten lava. He stumbled, lurched and doubled over, grabbing at himself even though his dick was out and, if he started to void, it would be FINE— BETTER than fine. At this point, the only purpose holding onto himself served was to take away a very tiny fraction of his pain. No. No more of this. Even if his bizarre fear came to fruition and Kakarot DID make him beg, it would be better than this. Anything would be better than this. He fumbled himself back into his clothes and limped back to the clearing. Kakarot HAD fallen asleep by then and Vegeta forced himself onto his knees, squishing his bladder once again but, already in so much agony that he barely noticed. He started to shove the other Saiyan, huffing; “Kakarot… Kakarot! Wake up! Wake up, now!” He was utterly appalled by the lengths his body was driving him to. Frantically shaking someone awake, like a child in need of comfort after a nightmare. Frantically shaking KAKAROT, going to THAT man for help with something that he couldn’t accomplish by himself no matter how hard he tried. He shouldn’t need Kakarot, but… Oh, he needed Kakarot so bad… Finally, his rival’s eyes started to open. “V—Vegeta…?” He asked, groggy. “What’s goin’ on?” “I— I require—“ “Oh,” Kakarot grew more alert and started to sit up. He lowered his voice. “I… This is why I was trying to get everyone to head to bed, I could tell you—“ “Don’t speak of such things here,” Vegeta hissed sharply. “You’ll wake someone else.” Vegeta anxiously stood. He’d expected standing and stretching out to make him feel BETTER, but it had the opposite effect. The skin of his abdomen was straining, the bump of his bladder so sharp he thought he might rip open. He crumpled forwards and begged his twitching hands not to make contact with his crotch. They did anyway. Disobedient trash… Kakarot was beside him a moment later, and he STILL couldn’t let go… “I— You have to get me home, or— Or stand near me, or just— ANYTHING, whatever’s fastest!” Vegeta hated every word that came from his mouth, couldn’t understand how he was even able to say them. He’d thought EARLIER that the desperation was driving him crazy, he must have been totally insane now. “Vegeta, what’s wrong? I thought you’d be able to pee if everybody went to—“ “I—It’s those stupid motion lights,” Vegeta interrupted, trudging off as fast as his aching bladder would let him. “They keep switching on, a—and—“ “… And you think someone’s coming,” Kakarot finished. “But, wait, you should be able to sense if—“ “Th—That hasn’t been— I tried, but it’s hard to focus, and when I do manage it, I’m able to pick up on everything— Deer, birds, bugs. And the power of a deer feels too similar to the average weakling on this planet.” Goku frowned. The lights alerting him to nearby movement, and his own body forcing him to notice anything close to him that was alive, Goku could see why it was stressing him out, why just leaving him alone in these woods hadn’t worked out the same way it had in the past, why— This was their second night here… Goku had assumed Vegeta’s constantly uncomfortable appearance was due to a need to pee, and he’d been right. But, he’d ALSO believed the desperation was getting alleviated each night, he’d believed Vegeta was getting a BREAK from the internal torment every so often. He’d believed he’d been helping and fixing the problem as best as he could. Vegeta hadn’t told him otherwise. … Vegeta WOULDN’T tell him otherwise. “V—Vegeta?! Have you gone at ALL since we got here?!” Goku blurted out. He looked down, paying more attention to Vegeta’s lower stomach than he usually would. The times he’d noticed his bladder swelling had been really freaky and, indeed, that was happening again now. It looked so painful, gnarled and angry. Vegeta looked like he’d pop if he got poked in the side with anything sharp. “It’s been two days— Have you been holding it for two days!?” “I…. Have,” Vegeta said, he noticed Kakarot staring at his midsection and, embarrassed, shakily released his grip on his crotch and moved his hands behind his back, trying to take away the temptation. His fingers twitched, palms growing sweaty. His bladder shuddered, protesting the loss of vital support. Its walls were so stretched, he swore it felt like something was tearing. “No, it’s okay,” Kakarot said. “You can, er, hold it there if you have t—“ “D—Don’t pay attention to— I don’t HAVE to do that!” Vegeta insisted, still his hands moved back to his front and squeezed, seemingly without his notice. “Shhh, you WILL wake people up if you yell at me,” Goku warned. They were back on the main trail now. Goku THOUGHT the quickest thing to do would be to get Vegeta to use a tree HERE. He could sense that Bulma and her parents were all at Capsule Corp, and a few members of their night crew were there as well. Which meant that the only rooms Goku would be able to teleport Vegeta to would be the lab, where people were working on delicate projects, or a bedroom, where everyone was probably asleep. Waking someone up by suddenly appearing in a flash of light, with Vegeta visibly… Having an emergency, would NOT be something his friend enjoyed. Having to explain what they were doing there would take time… Walking him away from most of the campsites would be better. Maybe Goku would take him to the waterfall, maybe the sound would help him, so long as someone that he trusted was near him. Hiking was easy, and it wasn’t a long distance. However, for the first time in a long while, Goku was worried that the person he was with wouldn’t be able to handle it. He hadn’t been nervous about overworking someone with a simple walk since Gohan was a toddler. And, little Gohan hadn’t gotten enraged when Goku asked if he thought he could make it, or if he wanted to be carried. Vegeta would— at least try to— blow something up if he was asked any similar questions. Unfortunately, the only thing it seemed Vegeta COULD blow up right now was his own bladder. He was VISIBLY struggling to walk. Goku knew that the best response to that was NO response at all, to instead pretend that Vegeta WASN’T basically limping, doubled over, and dragging his feet as his knees rubbed together. Still, Goku worried; It had been two days since his friend had last peed. Holding it for that long was unfathomable. More troubling was how ashamed Vegeta had sounded when he admitted to how long he’d been waiting. He’d done something most people would be astonished by— He’d done something he knew GOKU couldn’t do— and yet it had failed to instill any pride into him. Vegeta was proud of himself when he pushed his body— Even if it resulted in pain for him, even if Goku saw him straining a bit too hard and got concerned that his friend was just going to break something. It wasn’t the physical agony that kept him from being proud of this. The shame of the entire situation must have been beyond anything Goku had ever felt. Vegeta could barely lift his feet off the ground to take proper steps. It horrified him. He could walk correctly when subjecting himself to a hundred times Earth’s normal gravity. His bladder felt REALLY heavy, but no way was it THAT heavy. Granted, the pressure in the gravity chamber was all external, the thing weighing him down so much wasn’t wedged inside his body, crammed there with hardly enough space. And, he’d never felt that one wrong move would cause the gravity chamber to blow up and kill him. He actually DID feel like his bladder was going to blow up. That wasn’t even hyperbole, there was no exaggeration. That was seriously how it felt, and he could even point to personal experience and say he knew what he was talking about. He literally HAD exploded once before, in an attempt to kill Buu. He’d self-destructed on purpose, and it had felt a LOT like this. An extreme build-up in heat and pressure that stretched out all of his muscles, each of them being yanked out farther and farther until they all suddenly snapped. This was the same sensation, just all concentrated into one area. “I—I’m sorry I wasn’t around today,” Kakarot was saying. “I thought you were able to go last night, if I’d known—“ “Q—Quiet, Kakarot…” Vegeta grunted out. Goku was perhaps overly happy that he’d said ‘Quiet’ instead of his usual ‘SHUT THE HELL UP, KAKAROT!’ Vegeta kept inching forwards, the stupid lights blinding him every once in a while. He hated them so much that, had his bladder NOT been preventing him from summoning his chi, he WOULD be blowing them all up. It was during one of the moments where the bright flashes made his vision go haywire that he actually managed to trip and fall. “Gih— Dammit…” Vegeta muttered, sprawled on the ground. The impact, which should have felt like NOTHING, felt instead like a billion punches to his bladder. He was amazed that the pain inside him was STILL able to get worse. There should have been a point at which his body just couldn’t PROCESS it anymore. “Kakarot, don’t you dare lau—“ “Not gonna,” Kakarot said. “You okay?” “O—Of course,” Vegeta insisted, wriggling. He felt dizzy, it took him a moment to remember which way was up. Kakarot had his hand out, nearly every part of him was screaming that he was not so pathetic as to need assistance standing, but one tiny piece wanted him to accept. He reached and clasped Kakarot’s hand tightly, unable to even control how hard he gripped. Had he been in a better frame of mind, the wince this prompted on Kakarot’s face would have made him feel proud of himself. He just… Had to get back up… All he had to do was STAND— Standing was supposed to be easy— He wasn’t even hurt! He just felt so heavy, he felt weighed down, he felt filled with agony, he felt— Wait— Wha— What the Hell? He— He felt… warm, and kind of wet, and a sudden, slow decrease in his pain-level. Fuckfuckfuckfuck! Giving up on trying to drag himself back onto his feet, Vegeta put ALL of his energy towards making this horrific reality come to a grinding stop. His hand released from Kakarot’s, dove between his legs and he squeezed. He was so panicked by what was happening to him— HOW THE HELL COULD THIS BE HAPPENING TO HIM?!— that he accidentally clutched himself a LOT more firmly than he’d intended to, only succeeding in hurting himself again, and NOT in stopping himself from… From… His heart thudded so loudly that it nearly deafened him, new, intense emotions gripped him on all sides, none of them pleasant. Internally, his pelvic region was still in pain, the slow deflation of his bladder only PARTIALLY ebbing, and that was not enough to cover up the rest of the aches. His urethra was burning with a scorching fire, stinging more strongly with every passing second. Something within him felt like it had been broken. It did not resemble ANY of the other injuries he’d gotten. It wasn’t a ‘snapping’ sensation, more like it had crumbled and turned into dust. The feeling was right around his bladder, and he was convinced that he’d ACTUALLY managed to fill it so completely that it really HAD exploded. His bladder blowing up was the only reasonable explanation as to how he could actually be… Doing… This… The physical torment completely paled in comparison to the mental ones. The shame and humiliation was so severe that he felt like he was standing on the surface of the Sun. Yet, simultaneously, the frigid, rock-solid ice had moved out of his chest and had begun to encompass his entire body, making him shudder and fight for breath. When he realized he was struggling to breathe as he knelt pathetically on the ground, his body… voiding despite all his efforts to make it stop… Vegeta felt more powerless than he EVER had before. Not even comparing himself to Kakarot had ever managed to make him feel this broken and defeated, not even FRIEZA had ever caused him to— No… That wasn’t right. This was the second time Vegeta had… Done this. The second time he’d… Gotten himself wet. A memory popped into his brain, one that startled him with its clarity, as well as by how NEW it felt. He’d been four. An age where MOST people would think “Well, yeah, of course you had an accident when you were that little…” But, Vegeta wasn’t most people. Even at four, it was disgraceful for him to lose control over his body. Even at four, a Saiyan— especially the prince— should have had complete mastery over it. Should have been able to FORCE it to do what he wanted, and FORBID it from disobeying him. Back then, he was already being sent out on missions for Frieza. Of course he was. Saiyans were sent to fight practically from the moment they were born, and Vegeta was determined to show that he was JUST as good as the adults— Better, even. His father had protested against him being sent on THIS mission, though. Which, of course, only made Vegeta WANT to do it more. And, Frieza couldn’t be argued with. If he wanted Vegeta to go, then Vegeta WOULD go. “It’s just… A very long way to send him when he’s so young,” Vegeta’s father said. “If I’m not going with h—“ “Don’t be so sentimental,” Frieza said. “YOUR child is no more valuable to me than any of the other monkey brats. He will receive no special treatment.” Vegeta hadn’t cared. Sure, normally the king or some other guardian would accompany him on trips, but he was SO strong now. He didn’t need to be looked after. So, he set off on the mission with everyone else. Frieza was alongside them this time. Vegeta didn’t like Frieza very much, he was the only one that his proud father would bow down to. His father shouldn’t be taking orders from anyone. Vegeta told himself that, once they got to the new planet, he was going to show Frieza EXACTLY how powerful he was. Vegeta would do something SO amazing that Frieza would see it and think ‘The prince is THIS strong at four? What am I going to do when he grows up? I had better stay on his good side.’ He’d make Frieza SO scared of him, that he would show him and his father the respect they deserved. His father would be proud of him, all the other Saiyans would be overjoyed to have such a great warrior as their future king. The start of the trip went just fine, Vegeta lost himself in a fantasy of making Frieza run from him in terror. But, as he sat in his space pod, he noticed that it was taking way longer to arrive at this new planet than he’d thought it would. And he kind of needed to… Vegeta HAD relieved himself before leaving like he always did. But, that had been a really long time ago now, and his bladder had had plenty of opportunity to fill back up. He wriggled a little bit from side to side. Their voyage would surely be at an end soon… It wasn’t. More time passed, Vegeta was fidgeting wildly, curling up on himself and trying to stop his eyes from watering. His tail was flicking in all directions, occasionally twisting up around his crossed legs. He’d looked all over the tiny space-pod, trying to see if there was ANYTHING he could use to take care of his need. He was SURE there must have been something! If the others went on long trips like this often, there had to be SOME way to manage things like this. But, he hadn’t found ANYTHING. He’d tried hitting some of the buttons, hopeful that something useful would appear, but all he managed to do was adjust the seat and make the pod change speed a few times. He didn’t have anywhere to go, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could handle NOT going. He contorted further, he hadn’t ever had an accident before! Just… Just the couple times he’d wet the bed when he was a toddler, and THOSE didn’t count! How would he EVER show Frieza how tough he was if he couldn’t even hold it? If… If there was no way to pee inside the pods, that meant they probably stopped on long trips. Yeah, Vegeta could ask for a stop. He blushed, a little embarrassed by the idea, but the alternative was so much worse! He hit the button that he knew would allow him to speak to everyone else. “Uh—Um…” He flinched. He was used to his voice coming out loud, like father’s… He sounded so unsure of himself now. “The communication devices are only for emergencies, ‘Prince’ Vegeta,” Frieza’s voice replied. Vegeta crossed his legs tighter, this was definitely an emergency… “I—I know. Could we stop?” “Stop?” Frieza repeated. “We have a schedule to keep, you know I prefer to get things done quickly. For what purpose would we need to stop?” Vegeta winced again. Frieza was going to make him say it… His eyes started watering once more, face scorching pink. “Vegeta, if you don’t respond, I’ll end communica—“ Vegeta panicked at the idea of his one chance being taken away. “I— I need to— I have to— I have to go…” “Go where?” “Mmmf… I wanna… I need to pee…” Vegeta said quietly, feeling horridly ashamed. His fantasy of frightening Frieza into submission became just that; a fantasy. “Ah,” Frieza murmured. “Well, that’s not important enough for all of us to stop for. You may go when we arrive.” “B—But, I— I— How much longer?” Vegeta hated how pitiful his voice sounded. “Five minutes,” Frieza said. That didn’t sound like too long. Vegeta could wait five more minutes. Except, when he was SURE five minutes HAD passed, they still hadn’t arrived. Vegeta tried not to panic, time was probably just moving slowly for him because he was so uncomfortable. But, it kept dragging on and on. If it really had only been five minutes, then they were the longest five minutes of Vegeta’s life. He continued to squirm, begging his body not to fail him. He’d never had to go this bad before. He thought about talking to Frieza again, trying to explain how much he needed a stop, but the idea of begging Frieza for something made him go still for a moment, disappointed in himself for even considering it. “N—No, you can hold it…” Vegeta mumbled. “You can wait…” Minutes kept ticking, and Vegeta slammed his hand on the communication button without even thinking about it. Frieza sighed, “Vegeta… I am rather tired right now, I don’t need you pestering me.” “How much longer?” Vegeta managed. He was so ashamed, astonished that his need was driving him to such awful lengths. “Five minutes,” Frieza told him. “But, you said that ages ag—“ “Goodbye, Vegeta.” Now alone in silence once more, Vegeta focused EVERYTHING he had on holding it. It was so hard, though! It hurt! It was making him feel all dizzy, and kind of sick. When he felt himself pee a little he, again, couldn’t stop his hand from slamming the button. “Vegeta,” Frieza’s voice was dangerous, and Vegeta shuddered. “I am trying to rest up before our mission. If you do not stop bothering me, there WILL be consequences.” Vegeta trembled, now unsure what to say. “I— I don’t think I can wait anymore…” “Hmmm, you CAN’T?” Frieza asked. “Poor, tiny monkey. Perhaps if you BEG me, I will consider stopping for you.” Vegeta’s lip trembled. He didn’t beg. He did NOT beg. He was royalty, others were supposed to kneel before HIM, beg HIM for things. He really DID think he was going to have an accident soon, though… “Pl—Please, Emperor Frieza? Please? It really hurts, I… Can’t…” More things were beginning to hurt besides just his bladder. Something very deep and vital was causing him pain. “Beg more.” “Please!” Vegeta cried out. “Please! Please, please, please! Emperor Frieza, I will do whatever you want! Just— Please let me go?” “… Nope, not good enough,” Frieza said. “Ple—“ “Goodbye, Vegeta. Let me rest. If you bother me one more time, I may just have to tell your father that I no longer have a use for your planet…” Vegeta’s whole body trembled as the communication ceased. He fought against his need with as much fervor as he’d fought against anything else, but he could only fend it off for so long. To his horror, he felt warmth seeping into his clothes and soaking the seat beneath him. He’d lost. When they finally arrived on the planet— which took FAR longer than five minutes— The wet spots on Vegeta’s clothing had gone completely cold. The seat in the space pod was stained, and so were Vegeta’s pants, marred with dark patches that made what had happened so obvious… Of course, the pod didn’t contain anything for him to change into, either. He didn’t want to get out. He heard others shuffling around for a bit, then Frieza’s voice. “Where’s the little— Oh, the monkey brat probably can’t even open the door…” Vegeta listened as Frieza’s steps grew closer to him. He tensed up, trying to cover the damp patches. “Vegeta, weren’t you BEGGING me to stop earlier? I would have thought you’d be the first one out…” He hit something on the top of Vegeta’s pod and the door started to open. “Honestly, Vegeta. You are—“ He stopped, sniffed, and looked down at where Vegeta’s hands were. “Hmm, perhaps your father was right… You aren’t ready for such an arduous mission if you’re unable to control your body…” Frieza murmured. Louder, he said; “Come out, Vegeta.” Vegeta squeezed his eyes closed and shook his head. “Come. Out. Vegeta…” Frieza hissed. Defeated, Vegeta obeyed, crawling out of the pod. He stood before the tyrant, hands still trying to shield the evidence of his accident. This planet must have been REALLY close to a star… Vegeta had never felt so warm before, he was sweating and turning red… “Move your hands.” More head shaking. “Vegeta, if you don’t do as I say—“ Vegeta followed the command. He felt disgusting, pitiful, unworthy of calling himself a Saiyan. “Everyone,” Frieza said, much louder now, attracting the attention of the other Saiyans. “Look at this… Supposedly THIS is the proudest warrior of your race; The best your planet has to offer. Yet, he is so pathetic that he has not even mastered basic bladder control. How disappointing for you all. THIS is why you need me— Even your future king exudes nothing but weakness.” Vegeta stared down at the ground. His head refused to lift, eyes refused to meet the gazes of the other Saiyans. The corners of his eyes burned, the backs stung. He clamped them shut. He would not cry. He would NOT cr— “Vegeta!” Frieza snapped. “Open your eyes and look at everyone.” Vegeta forced himself to comply. Most of the Saiyans just had blank expressions, but some of them looked sympathetic. He did not WANT sympathy. He was too wretched to deserve such things… He’d disgraced himself and his entire planet. They all should have been scorning him. He was pathetic, worthless, a disappointment, a powerless, little weakling… When Frieza finally got finished espousing all the ways in which Vegeta was a failure, when he finally allowed all the Saiyans to go, Vegeta ran off like he was going to join. Then, he just found a bit of foliage and hid there, sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest. He hadn’t fought ANYTHING since he’d gotten to this planet, yet he didn’t think he’d ever been in more pain than this. Hours later, he had to pee again. He was allowed to do that now. He was next to some trees, not stuck in a pod with nowhere to go… He forced himself to get up, moving for the first time since he’d arrived. He stood at the tree, cringing at how damp his clothes still felt. He told himself to pee, but instead Frieza’s words just looped around in his head. ‘Pathetic, disappointing, weak…’ He stomped his feet and pushed hard, eyes screwed closed. He did pee after a few seconds, but it was really difficult and by the end of it, he felt worse than before, not better. Later, they all headed back to their own planet. Vegeta was so exhausted— He didn’t even know why, considering he’d spent the day HIDING rather than fighting. He fell asleep only a few minutes into the trip. By losing consciousness, he was able to last through the voyage without a second ‘issue’. But, when they arrived and he woke up… He really, REALLY had to go, even worse than he’d needed it the day before! He thought he could go straight to his room, where a private toilet would be waiting for him. Instead, as soon as he climbed out of his pod, Frieza was there to stop him. “Of course,” he said. “I will be discussing what happened with your father.” He stared down at Vegeta, at his twisting legs and hopping feet. “I see… He just never bothered to toilet train you, did he? Look at yourself, is that any way for a ‘warrior’ to behave?” Vegeta tried to go still, but it hurt so bad… “Get out of my sight, and try to learn some self control.” Vegeta was more than willing to obey THAT command, he hurried to his room as quickly as he could. He rushed past his father, not saying a word to him— what COULD he say? The mission had been a disaster because Vegeta was WEAK. He got to his restroom and urgently readied himself to pee. Again, all he heard were reminders that he was a failure, and he had to STRAIN to make himself go! When it finally happened, he mentally scolded himself. ‘You shouldn’t have to do this so often! No one ELSE failed to wait through that trip! You should have been able to wait! You’re supposed to be BETTER than them, you’re supposed to be— You’re supposed to—‘ His brain trailed off in a litany of self-condemnation. ‘Pathetic, frail, puny, feeble…’ He finished and just stayed there for a second. He would NEVER allow anyone to see him that way again. But now, someone had… Kakarot had! Kakarot was standing right there behind him as he uncontrollably voided all over himself. Kakarot was getting to witness the greatest humiliation of Vegeta’s entire life. He knew now what his recurring dream had really been, it had been a memory, but one he’d buried down as deep as he could. Frieza’s taunting, Frieza’s SPEECH about how pathetic he was, swirled around him. How… How the Hell had he managed to FORGET it?! It was so important, it was the MOMENT all of this Hell had truly begun. The catalyst for why he’d felt the need to train his bladder, for why he’d always been too ashamed to let anyone know he needed to pee, for EVERYTHING that had led to. Yet, for years, he’d somehow failed to remember it. Instead, he’d just forever had it in his mind that peeing was a disgraceful action, and one that was always associated with failure. Those feelings had always been there, he’d just never been able to figure out where they’d COME from. But, WHY? That was such a big thing to forget, even if he would have TRIED to force it out of his brain. Vegeta was still gushing, and he realized now that he could probably pull himself out and start spraying into the grass instead of continuing to soak his clothes. Not that it even mattered. He was drenched, his pants clinging to him, his crotch warm and heavy with buckets of uncontainable liquid. Just like in his childhood memory, his eyes were stinging. He forced them closed. No crying. He didn’t cry. He would never cry… Why did Kakarot have to be here for this. If Vegeta HAD to burst and do this to himself, why couldn’t he at least have had the luxury of being alone? He shouldn’t have bothered waking Kakarot up, should have just kept pacing the forest alone until he either MANAGED to relieve himself correctly or did THIS in private. Fuck, what was Kakarot going to say? Probably scold him for holding it for so long, for not getting him sooner— “You tried to hold it through a four day trip, what did you think would happen? You could have asked me LAST night when you realized there was a problem, but you had to be stubborn about it.” Goku watched as Vegeta lost control, skin prickling more the longer it went on. He’d seen and heard Vegeta pee a TON before, but this had to be his longest stream ever… No wonder he’d actually… Right. Vegeta was finally peeing, but in the last way he would ever want to. THIS was bad. Once this was finally over, there was zero chance that Vegeta was gonna be okay. Goku had had a couple accidents as an adult. He’d just waited too long, or hadn’t noticed that he needed to go until it was almost too late… He always brushed it off though. He’d wet himself, and feel embarrassed for a bit, but he’d get changed and forget about it shortly after. The one time he’d wet himself in front of someone else, he’d laughed it off. It wasn’t a pleasant situation, but not the end of the world, either. Vegeta wasn’t going to be able to handle this that well. Goku could see his body quivering and shuddering, spasming hard. He wasn’t sure if that was from humiliation, or just a natural reaction to finally urinating for the first time in so long. The hissing noise finally stopped, rather abruptly, and Vegeta stayed where he was. Goku didn’t move either. He knew that the choices he made in the next few minutes were going to be crucial. When he tried to get Vegeta OUT of situations where he couldn’t pee in order to get him some relief, he often pretended that he couldn’t TELL Vegeta had to go. Could he get away with pretending he hadn’t realized Vegeta wet himself? He could… Pretend to slip and fall in the mud. Then he’d say “Oh, Chi-Chi’s gonna be REAL mad if I come back all muddy… Better go wash off in the lake! Since you had to go right there, you should get cleaned up too— At least you made it though, right?” It was dark… He really COULD act like he thought Vegeta HAD moved his clothing out of the way in time. Vegeta might believe it! No, he’d only believe that if Goku were human… Humans could barely see in the dark. Saiyans could see perfectly well, their vision only slightly diminished by the lack of light. He could easily see the shimmering wet spots on Vegeta’s clothes. No way would Vegeta think he didn’t notice them. Maybe Goku should… Pee himself as well, so that Vegeta wouldn’t feel alone! “See, Vegeta? You can’t feel embarrassed in front of me now, we BOTH didn’t make it!” He could already hear the response; “I don’t need your pity, Kakarot, you moron!” Vegeta was still kneeling there, twitching. He looked… Fragile and hurt… Goku WANTED to help him, NEEDED to help him… Not knowing what to do was shaking him to his core. ‘Maybe I should let him punch me…’ Goku thought. ‘That always cheers him right up!’ “K—Kakarot…” Vegeta said quietly, shakily. “Vegeta…?” Goku asked, unsure of what else to say. He didn’t dare ask his friend if he was alright, the answer was obvious. “I—I’m pathetic…” Vegeta whispered into the night. “I’m… Weak, and—“ “Hey, no,” Goku interrupted. “You didn’t pee for two days, you’re exhausted.” “I— Kakarot, I just— I actually—“ “Two days, Vegeta…” Goku repeated. “You know that your body has limits, mine does t—“ “I’m… Not supposed to… To lose to myself…” Goku stepped closer to him, moving warily. Suddenly, Vegeta seemed like a scared, wounded animal. “You didn’t lose, you just… Found where one of your limits is. And, hey, this might actually be…” He paused, unsure if he should finish the thought. “What?” Vegeta demanded. “…Maybe this is kind of a good thing,” Goku said hesitantly. “How the HELL can this possibly be a—“ “Because… You know, you were ‘able’ to do this… I mean, I’m sure you were feeling that awful thing in your back—“ “M—Maybe…” “And, that happens because your… stuff is moving up instead of out, right? But, this time it eventually went in the right direction— Without you having to work and force it to. So, that has to mean you’re getting better, at least a little.” Vegeta didn’t think his body just… shattering like that meant ANYTHING was getting better. Not to mention, how bad the coldness in his chest had gotten, how it had moved EVERYWHERE, how he’d suddenly re-lived an awful memory that he’d SOMEHOW managed to keep away for years. “K—Kakarot have you ever… Forgotten something that SHOULD have been important? And then you suddenly recall it much later?” “Ummm…” Kakarot tapped his chin. “Oh, yeah. I forget Chi-Chi’s birthday every year, and then I remember it when Gohan gives me some flowers and says ‘Tell her they’re from you.’” “That’s not what I meant…” “Oh. What DID you mean, then? Let’s go the lake, you can tell me about it on the way there.” Vegeta recounted his childhood experience to Kakarot as best as he could. It was awful trying to voice it out loud, he was giving life to the source of all his shame… “You know all that stuff Frieza said wasn’t true, right?” Kakarot asked. “You were FOUR…” “Even at FOUR a Saiyan warrior is supposed to have full mastery over his—“ “I’m pretty sure I wet myself TONS of times when I was four… Grandpa always just said ‘Whoops, let’s get you washed off.’ And that was it.” What a silly, coddling thing to say… No wonder Kakarot was so soft. No wonder Kakarot… Never had trouble relieving himself… “I’m not you. I was the prince, I was supposed to be the best example of a Saiyan, and—“ “And you were four,” Kakarot repeated. “How long did you hold it for?” “I have no idea, there wasn’t a clock. Frieza kept saying ‘five minutes’, but—“ “I don’t think Frieza could tell time,” Kakarot said. “Well, however long it was, it must have been more than ANY kid could take. You were little, that was bound to happen.” They arrived at the lake. The waterfall actually sounded NICE to Vegeta’s ears now that he wasn’t… Gah, he really wanted to get washed off. The sooner he’d cleaned himself up, the sooner he could pretend this hadn’t happened. “I guess… Um… Just rinse off in the lake a bit for now, tomorrow I can take you home for a minute so you can get changed and everything…” Goku felt so out of his depth. He’d been there when Gohan had had accidents before. He’d even accidentally pushed Gohan too far once in the time chamber and CAUSED him to wet himself. Making Gohan feel better was so much easier! There was only ONE thing that Goku knew usually cheered Vegeta up. But, would it even WORK this time? Would it be enough? How could Goku even DO it now? How could he possibly stroke the ego of a person who’d just wet themselves? He only did it after waiting for two days… “Wow, Vegeta, that was actually REALLY impressive,” Goku said. “You fought that SO hard until the very last second! And you managed it for two days! I can barely hold it for six hours!” Vegeta had stepped into the lake, wishing he could go home NOW and have a proper bath. He looked up, “Kakarot, what the Hell are you talking about?” “I’m just surprised,” Goku said. “I’ve never seen anyone wait that long before, I bet you have the strongest bladder ever!” “Whatever you’re trying to do, it isn’t working. I’m not proud of this,” Vegeta said. “It’s… Weak. An inability. It’s not something that makes me—“ “Okay, but… Think about it this way; If you— WHEN you defeat this problem, your bladder’s still gonna be super strong. It’ll be exactly as strong, but it will do what you want. Then, you’ll have the biggest bladder in the universe and it also won’t hurt you all the time. THAT would be good, right?” “I guess…” Vegeta said. That wasn’t ever going to HAPPEN, though. The shame was imprinted into him, he would never defeat his problem for good, only find ways to fight it in an endless battle. He paused, “Six hours…?” “Huh?” “You said you can barely wait for six hours,” Vegeta reminded. “That’s all?” Goku shrugged. Up until he’d discovered his friend’s issue, he’d actually thought six hours was a pretty long time… “Er, yeah… Um… How often do you usually go?” “That is a very personal question, Kakarot,” Vegeta grumbled. He finally decided he was as clean as he was gonna get and trudged from the lake. “I know, I just… Are you hurting yourself, Vegeta?” Goku asked. “I get it, you don’t like it when someone worries about you, but… When you go, it’s always… a lot. And, I see you fidgeting around a whole bunch before you actually come and get me…” “Once or twice a day is normal,” Vegeta said reluctantly. “You mean, sometimes, you go 24 hours between—“ “That has been happening less frequently lately, but yes.” Ouch… At least Goku kinda understood where those ‘feelings’ Vegeta had were coming from now. Of course being called worthless, pathetic and weak after having an accident would hurt someone really badly— Especially Vegeta! Weird that he’d sort of forgotten about the whole thing, though. Goku was sure he must have TRIED to do that, but then why did the feelings stay once he’d made himself forget? None of that made the slightest bit of sense of Goku. How could an important memory get buried, but leave all the feelings behind anyway? Sounded like something really strange had happened in Vegeta’s head. Maybe he’d hit it really hard, like Goku had when he was a baby.

Considering it further, Vegeta didn’t think he really HAD to make himself urinate while Trunks was around him. There were other ways to keep Trunks from mirroring his behavior. When it came down to it, Trunks was just misunderstanding what Vegeta’s habits actually were. He genuinely believed Vegeta never peed, simply because he’d never seen him do it, or heard him mention it. He was only trying to mimic that because he both wanted to impress his father with his strength, and thought it surely must have been POSSIBLE to reach a point where he could hold it indefinitely. If Vegeta just explained to his son that he was mistaken, he could get him to give up easily. Except, that would require him to break down his issue bit by bit, admit aloud that there existed a task he couldn’t accomplish, inform someone of one of his weaknesses. He wasn’t supposed to have weaknesses, and he definitely wasn’t supposed to let anyone know what they were. Add onto that the fact Trunks was eight years old. Vegeta wasn’t sure if he’d even understand it. Then again, Kakarot was able to grasp the concept, he… ‘got it’ really well, as infuriating as it was to give him so much credit. Kakarot ACTED like an eight year old sometimes. Vegeta tried to picture himself telling Trunks about his problem. He thought about sitting his son down, claiming he had something ‘important’ to discuss with him, and then launching into a diatribe about how his bladder was a disobedient traitor that refused to obey the simplest of commands. He immediately stopped imagining that. Recalling the questioning Trunks had given him a couple years ago, it was actually a surprise that he didn’t seem close to figuring it out for himself. Trunks had seen him… fidgeting before. And it wasn’t as though Vegeta had to move around in ‘that way’ all of the time. Trunks should have realized by now that Vegeta MUST pee occasionally, even if he never saw him do it. Vegeta decided that he should simply wait for some sort of opportunity to present itself. The next time he was feeling… urgent, and he was alone with Trunks, he’d convince himself to tell Trunks that he had to go. He’d managed to inform Bulma, so he should be able to do the same thing again. Although, Bulma had never been under any illusion that Vegeta simply DIDN’T pee. He’d surprised her by SPEAKING of the matter to her, but there was no reason for her to be shocked that he had to do it at all. Trunks WOULD be surprised. He’d ask questions, make comments… Today, Vegeta was encouraging Trunks to do as many push-ups as he could inside the gravity chamber. Then, when Trunks said that he COULDN’T do anymore, Vegeta ordered him to keep TRYING. “When I was your age, I could do at least one hundred more than that!” “I’m…” Trunks grunted. “I’m getting tired…” “Work through it,” Vegeta said. “I want to get you to be just as strong by YOURSELF as you are when fused with Kakarot’s child.” “C—Can’t you turn the gravity down some?” Trunks asked. “Or at least let me go Super Saiyan?” Vegeta had actually been thinking about lowering the gravity. He’d been needing to void for quite some time, and was beginning to reach the point where his thighs were constantly clenched and it took a concentrated effort not to cross his legs. Being in a place where everything naturally felt heavier than usual made it all the more difficult to resist the urges to squirm. If he removed all the extra weight and pressure piling onto him, he knew his bladder would suddenly become MUCH more manageable. It was tempting… But, he didn’t actually WANT his bladder to lighten up. He was certain that, if it hurt him badly enough, he’d get past all his resistance and be capable of telling Trunks that he wanted to void. “I’m turning it up higher,” Vegeta said. “A Saiyan warrior should never complain.” Vegeta adjusted some of the settings, increasing the gravity just slightly. Immediately, a great lurching spasm rocked through his abdomen, his midsection feeling squeezed and crushed. His knees buckled, body struggling to adjust to the massive jump in pressure within. “S—See?” Trunks asked, straining to lift himself off the ground. “It’s h—hard for you too…” The gravity itself was fine! Vegeta trained under higher levels by himself all the time. He could handle it. It just felt like his bladder was being viciously sucked down to his feet was all. He stumbled and tried to straighten up. “It… Takes time to adjust. You will get used to it.” Vegeta watched as Trunks kept trying, insides churning. He generally made it a habit to always relieve himself before he came in here. He hated that it meant he sometimes had to postpone training for a little while until he was granted some privacy. But, he had long ago learned his lesson about NOT peeing first. He’d let himself get truly desperate in here only once before; When his bladder had begun to back-flow, and the burning stings had obliterated his kidneys… The additional pressure bearing down on his body dug its claws in, forcing him to feel like he was being ripped apart both inside and out. The pain had been so grotesque in its intensity that he’d basically screamed, voice gnarled and ragged. He’d frantically turned the device off, returning him to Earth’s normal gravity, and allowing some of the heinous torment to ebb back down into something that DIDN’T feel fatal. He’d rushed out, vision blurring as he went down the hall. Bulma had stopped him, “What’s wrong? I heard you shouti—“ “Nothing,” Vegeta had interrupted, shoving past her. He’d gotten to their room, locked the door. Then, to the restroom, locking THAT door as well. He finally urinated, trying to catch his breath the whole time. The memory of how bad that had felt— Not to mention the relief that followed— made Vegeta want to put a stop to his current predicament NOW. The solution to his problem should have been simple, just a matter of saying a few words. All he had to do was speak, then he wouldn’t have to worry about enduring anything as Hellish as that again. He gave it a try, but what came out was; “That’s enough, Trunks. Let’s try something harder, use only ONE hand now.” Trunks’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t complain. Good. That was how a Saiyan SHOULD behave. Vegeta kept watching Trunks, noticing his hair beginning to glow subtly. “No turning Super Saiyan,” he instructed. “I told you, when I was your age I did more than this— All without going super.” Trunks was quiet for a second, save for the grunts as he continued to raise and lower himself. Then, he stuck his tongue out; “That’s ‘cause you couldn’t DO it when you were my age!” Vegeta twitched, a tiny flame appearing in his chest. “Are you mocking me?” “Maybe.” “So, that’s how we’re gonna do this? Get up, Trunks. Push-ups are done.” Trunks collapsed to the floor, then slowly got to his feet. “Next phase of your training; I want you to try to hit me,” Vegeta said. Trunks grinned and held up his fists. This was what typically happened. Vegeta would try to have Trunks complete a series of exercises, and Trunks would try to provoke Vegeta into sparring with him. It didn’t take much to provoke him. Vegeta dodged several ki blasts fired by his son and started to charge one of his own. He always held back when fighting with his son, which was a weird feeling. He never shot off anything at full power, sometimes if he felt like he’d accidentally over-charged an attack, he’d even miss on purpose. This was not how Saiyan children were SUPPOSED to be trained. It wasn’t how Vegeta himself had been trained— The adults would come at him with everything they had, if he got seriously injured then it was HIS fault for not fighting hard enough. Vegeta knew that was what he should do with Trunks, he just found it impossible. Maybe it would be easier once Trunks was fully-grown— Vegeta had had zero issue attacking Trunks’s future counterpart, after all. As it was, Vegeta constantly felt this confused pushing-and-pulling sensation inside himself. Half of him wanted to fight and give over to the full force of his own strength, and the other half was appalled by the idea of Trunks being in pain. He blamed Earth for it. The stupid planet had obviously poisoned him somehow. He was having more trouble than usual today. It was tough to dodge with a solid, massive weight stuffed into his center. It was even harder to concentrate when he had to spend so much energy on ignoring the signals from his bladder begging him for release. He stumbled a few times, and his legs rubbed together more than once. Trunks was having too much fun to notice any odd poses Vegeta made. “Hahaha! I’m gonna get you!” Trunks laughed, charging up another blast. Vegeta quickly moved out of its path, his shaky footing making him slip. When he landed on the floor, the reverberation knocked through his bladder, up his pipes, and made his back come alive with caustic heat. “G—“ He bit down hard. “Haah—“ His heart pounded rapid-fire, the heavy air around him closing in, wrapping a thick rope around his abdomen and pulling it tight. “Hnng—“ Trunks lowered his hands and began to stare. “Huh? I thought I missed… What happened?” This was that ‘opportunity’ Vegeta had been waiting on. The perfect moment to say “I dodged it, I just need a break to relieve myself.” But then, he’d also be admitting that those horrid, squeaking moaning noises that refused to stop falling from his lips were caused by desperation. Trunks’s expression was concerned, and it made Vegeta’s neck prickle with a blush. “Heh, guess it was so powerful that it didn’t even have to touch you!” Trunks decided, grinning. He ran forward, climbing into Vegeta’s lap. Vegeta reacted immediately. Trunks was small, but having ANYTHING on top of him while in the gravity chamber was difficult. Worse, having something RIGHT THERE. His bladder boiled sharply, and gave such a strong throb that he worried it was about to burst right out of him. He wriggled against the floor, hands fluttering around himself uselessly. “Tr—Trunks— Not—“ Trunks moved away from him, still laughing. “Woah, did I actually hurt you without even—“ “N—No, I— Uh— Need—“ Vegeta swallowed around a lump in his throat. ‘I need to relieve myself,’ he thought. ‘Just say it.’ “Uh— You were right, the gravity is too high,” he said instead. “Oh,” Trunks shrugged. “Well, I got used to it, you must be getting old!” He went to the controls and adjusted them. Vegeta struggled not to sigh as his bladder reacted to the shift, suddenly going light, its walls ceasing their infernal spasming. The relief was so much like actually PEEING that he caught himself sneaking a glance downward. He wasn’t urinating, of course, he knew that was impossible. Vegeta managed to stand up, doing so quickly before his bladder re-adjusted and began needling him as strongly as it had been before. His middle ached, and he found himself rubbing at it with equal parts curiosity and trepidation. The sore swell there buzzed angrily at his touch, and he yanked his hand away as if he’d been burned. “You have done well so far,” he said. “It… Might be a good time for a break.” There. That was the closest he thought he could get today to confessing his need. “Huh? Already?” Trunks asked. He groaned, “Does Mom want us to do chores instead again?” “N—No…” Vegeta said. “I just— Need—“ ‘Dammit, out with it!’ His back started to twinge once more, that should have been motivation enough to say what he had to do. “Need to… Get something to eat.” “Oh, okay,” Trunks nodded. “I’m hungry too.” Great. That meant the boy was going to follow him… Sure enough, Trunks walked after Vegeta as he painstakingly made his way to the kitchen. He passed the door to his and Bulma’s room along the way— The door he WANTED to go through. He forced himself to ignore it, but he couldn’t ignore the acid coming to a boil in his back. It hurt so damn much… It was making him shake, half of him felt dipped in ice, the other in fire. His legs kept crossing every few steps, his posture deteriorating. Trunks noticed it. “Does it make you stronger?” He asked. Vegeta paused his awkward paces, letting his legs snap together and squeeze. “What we just did…? Of course it—“ “Nuh-uh,” Trunks said. “Holding it forever.” Vegeta wished he had some way to hide his face. “What are you—“ “‘Cause, I’m trying to learn how to do that so I can be strong too,” Trunks said. “It’s just really hard and I keep having to give up.” Vegeta crossed his legs for a second, shamed by Trunks’s watchful eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Never peeing! It DOES make you stronger, right?” Trunks said. “It MUST, or else why do you do it?” Vegeta begrudgingly straightened himself out once more. “Tr—Trunks, this is a vulgar conversation. We are about to eat, stop this.” “Is there some day where you’re planning to go? Like, you finally beat Goten’s dad, so you decide you’re strong enough, and—“ “Trunks!” Vegeta snapped. “Enough.” “‘Cause I just wanna know how long I should try to—“ “You shouldn’t,” Vegeta interrupted. “You should NOT try to force your body to… Retain. Unless you just… Haven’t a choice.” Trunks was quiet for a second, then started up again. “But, YOU… ‘retain’ when you don’t have to all the time! You’ve been holding it foreve—“ “If you have ever noticed me… Experiencing ‘distress’ of that sort, it was because I didn’t have a choice.” “But, you can go NOW, and you won’t.” Vegeta started to pace, hands balled into fists so that he didn’t accidentally grab himself. Trunks could tell he was bursting at the seams, so the words ‘Yes, I’ll be back in a moment,’ should have been easy. His need wasn’t some big secret, Trunks already knew! Yet, he remained stuck where he was, chest turning glacial. “Trunks, I have a…” Vegeta’s jaw tensed, teeth grinding. He wasn’t sure if his emotions or his desperation was more responsible for his inability to speak. “That is to say, I struggle with— I often—… There are wrong ways to train your body,” he settled on, finally. “You can teach it to do something that you didn’t actually want, and then it’s difficult to get it to change.” “I don’t get it…” Trunks admitted. Vegeta swayed back and forth. The bedroom door was taunting him. He did NOT want to give Trunks any more details about his problem! He did not want to have to spell it all out! He did not want to… to endure the pangs in his back any longer! “I—I’ll explain it in— In a few minutes!” Vegeta said, forcing his twitching legs to move forwards, and his sweating hands to open the door. He locked himself into the bedroom, already feeling more secure. Trunks could probably still get in here, the flimsy lock wasn’t enough to stop him. He didn’t think Trunks would break it, though. He went to the restroom and shut the door. He was shaking so much, could feel everything in his body spiking and falling at random intervals. He twitchily reached for the lock, turning it as gently as he could, feeling relieved when he didn’t accidentally pull it too far. They needed to get a stronger lock, Vegeta was sick of the nerves he experienced every time he had to touch this one. He didn’t care how many times he broke any of the OTHER locks, but THIS one was too valuable. He stood at the toilet and told himself to go. Please, please just go… His bladder throbbed and cramped, but nothing came out. His mind was abuzz, trying to work out what Trunks must have been thinking. He was sure Trunks knew what he was doing, and since this was his first ever indication that his father actually peed sometimes, he was likely surprised. He was thinking about it a LOT. ‘But, that’s GOOD,’ Vegeta thought. ‘You don’t WANT him to believe you never void.’ He wanted Trunks to KNOW that he did, to stop copying him, to NEVER copy him when it came to THIS. Vegeta had that same feeling again, the horror at the thought of Trunks getting really hurt because of him. If Trunks broke his own bladder the way Vegeta had done to his, if Trunks had to experience the excruciating, caustic torment still flaring in Vegeta’s back… There were so few people Vegeta allowed into his world, it was his responsibility to protect them from anything. At last, he began to pee. Just the tiny, stabbing dribbles at first. It burned a trail down his length and everything in him begged him to STOP. Instead, he forced himself to lean into that pain, the only way he knew to finally coax out his stream. It picked up speed, the stinging being replaced by a gradual easing of pressure. His bladder continued to spasm, the fullness still agitating its sensitive walls even as he was finally letting it out. It took over a minute before it REALLY started to feel good, and his poor holding muscles began to go truly slack. He was a bit disturbed by how amazing this felt sometimes. Satiating such a humiliating need shouldn’t have been this gratifying. It shouldn’t have granted him a full-body experience of pure pleasure. It disgusted him that, sometimes, the only thing he could even compare this great amount of satisfaction to was how he felt when he climaxed. He hated how much willpower it took for him not to moan. At last, he finished up a few minutes later. His bladder felt light, but sore. It knew that its reprieve would not last forever. Eventually, it would be stretched within an inch of its life yet again. Desperate over-flow was its natural state. He left the restroom and went back to the hall where Trunks was waiting. Trunks started speaking immediately, “Were you peeing that whole time? How’d you do that? Is it ‘cause you haven’t done it in years? Did I make you have to quit by talking about it too mu—“ “Trunks,” Vegeta interrupted. “I was… Attempting to explain something earlier. Remember? I said you can train your body improperly.” “Yeah, I don’t know what that means.” Vegeta sighed. Of course, he was going to have to explain it a little better than that. “Okay, what I’m about to tell you… It is not to come up in conversation EVER. You are not to say one word about it to anyone, and that includes Kakarot’s child.” “But, I tell Goten everyth—“ “You won’t tell him this,” Vegeta said, pausing. “And… Do your best not to THINK about it when the two of you are fused.” “Okay…” Trunks sighed. “What’s the big secret?” “I… Have… A bit of trouble with… relieving myself around others.” Trunks stared. “Um… Is that it?” “What?!” “Why didn’t you just say that before?” Trunks asked. “I seriously thought you were holding it forever because you’re super strong.” “I— It’s— It’s disgraceful,” Vegeta said. “That’s why you aren’t to tell anyo—“ “Yeah, I won’t tell anybody,” Trunks said. “But, is that really all?” Vegeta crossed his arms. He’d been certain Trunks was going to be ashamed of him. Say, ‘But, you always told me you can do anything!’ Ask, ‘Why would THAT be hard to do?’ Mention how ‘Goten’s dad could pee on-stage at the World Tournament if he wanted!’ Instead, Trunks didn’t care at all, and Vegeta was angry at himself for agonizing over it in the first place. “Yes, that’s all,” Vegeta said. “But, it… It began when I…” He trailed off. He’d been about to say that it started when he thought that holding his bladder for long periods of time would prove his superiority, but THAT had started when he began to feel that urinating made him appear weak. And THAT had started when… When… He didn’t know when, he was certain it had just always been there. “Just— Don’t try to hold it for years,” Vegeta said. “That isn’t what I was doing.” “Oh, okay,” Trunks said. Vegeta was on high alert for several days afterwards. Any time Goten was over, he couldn’t help but pay close attention to every conversation he had with Trunks. Seeing as the discussions held by young children were generally pretty inane, this was hard to do. And if Vegeta heard the phrase, “That’s not FAIR, Trunks!” In Goten’s whining voice one more time… He still forced himself to listen, certain that Trunks would accidentally let something slip any time Goten complained that HE had to pee. ‘Oh, by the way,’ he imagined Trunks saying. ‘My dad HASN’T been holding it forever, he just can’t go most of the time!’ No such comments were ever made, and soon Vegeta was sure Trunks really WOULD manage to stay quiet about it. He’d seemingly grasped that this was a ‘family’ subject, and no one outside needed to hear about it. Now that the two (Er, THREE, as he forced himself to admit) most important people in his life knew of the problem, Vegeta felt somewhat better about it. Bulma was trying to understand it, Trunks wasn’t disappointed in him, Kakarot was… Infuriatingly helpful. Vegeta thought he could manage it. At the least, he no longer had to sneak around and make excuses when he was at home. He could request some privacy without being prodded as to why. Then there was another dream. It was somewhat clearer than the last several. He could sort of see where he was, and he knew Frieza was right next to him. His vision slightly less cloudy, he noticed that Frieza was towering over him, this suggested that he was kneeling for some reason— Vegeta would NEVER kneel before Frieza! Or, perhaps, he’d been knocked to the ground and was laying there, injured. Frieza was giving some kind of a speech. Vegeta was sure it was the same one from all of the other dreams, and he still could not make out a single word of it. Even so, his chest felt heavy, cold and knotted. Something in him was screaming that he was pathetic, unworthy, useless. He believed every hateful word his brain fired at him, more certain of them than he’d ever been of anything else. When he woke, he desperately had to urinate. The severity of his need startled him, since he HAD managed to go before bed last night. Yet, he felt like he did when he’d been holding it for over a day. Bulma was still asleep— and he knew she couldn’t hear his stream from the bed anyway— so he hurried to the restroom and emptied his bladder. It felt good to be able to go so easily, but the cold buzzing ache from his dream lingered. *** Also, here's some art. Nappa thinks he's "helping".

That evening, Vegeta sat beside Bulma in bed, trying to stop thinking about what had happened to him the previous night. While he did not desire to urinate very strongly, he was determined not to accidentally fall asleep until he’d done so. If he didn’t get up in the middle of the night, then THAT would never happen again. But, that WOULD be running from his enemy, not fighting it. Kakarot’s words from earlier, particularly the suggestion that Vegeta ‘couldn’t’ do something… He did NOT want Bulma to watch him as he tried to void! It was a preposterous suggestion! Kakarot HAD told him to ‘start small’. That… Generally worked with other things. When he was a child, he’d gotten strong enough to take down saibamen, then he could keep pace with other Saiyans, even the adults. What would ‘starting small’ be for THIS problem, though? Certainly not asking Bulma to stand there and… watch… He wouldn’t even be able to get the words out! The words… Vegeta had NEVER actually been able to tell Bulma that he needed to relieve himself. The only person he’d gotten CLOSE to speaking those words to was Kakarot, and even then he was never blunt about it. “Kakarot, your prince requires your assistance,” was how he generally made the request. Maybe the first step should be getting himself to say, out loud, that he wanted to urinate. He shifted, a jab of ice already poking his chest. “B—Bulma…?” Bulma looked over, “Hm?” “I… Need to…” Vegeta’s throat tightened, his body fighting hard against him. “I— I’m… GoingToTheRestroom,” he spat out, leaping from the bed and stalking quickly to the door. “Okay…?” “A—About a hundred miles away,” Vegeta added. He wasn’t going to use the bathroom HERE, where Bulma would be able to see him go in and listen as his stream… Probably failed to appear. He’d use a different one. Hopefully his heart would stop thudding so hard. Hopefully the sheen of ice that had just coated him would melt… He rushed to the closest bathroom and, upon confirming no one was near it, he entered. He tried not to look at himself in the mirror. The red coloration to his face was absolutely unacceptable! He pulled himself out and tried to steady his breathing. He couldn’t believe he was feeling… this right now. All he’d done was tell Bulma where he was going! All he’d done was… Indicate to her that… His bladder was full… Full enough that he couldn’t hold it… But, really he COULD hold this. It wasn’t an emergency. His back felt fine. His abdomen wasn’t flooded with pain. He could wait a while longer before it became a problem. He still really… WANTED it out now, though. As rarely as he granted this, he had to admit that Kakarot was right. Vegeta needed to fight AGAINST his problem to get it to go away, or at least to make it easier to deal with. Once he was able to relieve himself with his family close by, everything would get so much simpler. No more sneaking around every time he had to pee, no more having to HIDE it from them, no more questions from Trunks… If he couldn’t manage to relieve himself after simply TELLING Bulma that he had to go, if the shame of THAT was too great, he’d NEVER make it to that point. Besides, since he’d NEVER notified her when he needed to urinate before, maybe she just thought that he wanted to wash his hands? She STILL asked him why he always wore gloves, kept suggesting he had a complex about cleanliness. He certainly DIDN’T, but he’d let her BELIEVE that if it meant she was now picturing him scrubbing himself instead of peeing. Or, not peeing, rather… He closed his eyes and pushed down, trying to start his stream. Even as he strained, he knew he was doing it wrong. This wasn’t something he was supposed to force. Kakarot had told him, he was supposed to just ‘let it happen’. Trouble was he had no idea HOW to do that. Anything else he made his body do, he usually had to concentrate really hard to MAKE it happen. When Kakarot explained how it was MEANT to work, Vegeta had gotten so frustrated. Kakarot made it sound like he was supposed to just do nothing. How could he be having so much trouble doing NOTHING?! He’d been in here too long. No way would Bulma think he was washing his hands. She knew he needed to urinate, she knew he was having a difficult time with it. She was thinking about him standing here, not getting a drop out, unable to accomplish the most basic task. She was thinking about him feeling… What had she insisted upon calling it? ‘Anxiety’? She was pretending to herself that Vegeta was feeling ‘anxiety’, getting deeper into her DELUSION that he would allow such a sensation to exist inside of him. Because if there was one thing Vegeta was certain of, it was that THIS— the racing heart, the shortness of breath, the runaway thoughts— It was NOT anxiety. It was just The Feeling. And if he COULD reach into his chest and pry out the cold tendrils knotting up in there, he WOULD. Then they’d be gone forever, because they had no business being anywhere near him! That was a good idea. Maybe he could just beat those feelings out of his body! If he smacked himself in the chest hard enough, they would shatter like broken glass. He slapped his chest, making himself cough, but the buzzing ice didn’t even budge. Dammit… So far, he’d tried BOTH of his usual tactics. He’d yelled at his problem the day Gohan had come over, and now he’d attempted to punch his problem really hard. Neither of those had gotten rid of it. Now that he’d exhausted the full breadth of his problem-solving skills, Vegeta accepted that those obnoxious sensations were going to continue filling up his chest. And liquid was continuing to fill up his bladder. Since he’d been IN the restroom for so long, staring directly at a toilet, his bladder must have been feeling a bit ‘teased’. It was throbbing a LOT more sharply all of the sudden. Now, he didn’t only want to urinate to prove that he COULD, he wanted to urinate for the simple sake of his own comfort. His toes twitched and he bounced once, before angrily forcing himself to go still again. ‘It won’t come out if you dance around like a fool…’ Vegeta swore he could hear footsteps outside. He wasn’t sure how close. His ears could pick up noises from pretty far away sometimes, and the hallways here echoed. He told himself that no one was going to come and listen to him piss— Particularly since he was NOT even pissing— But the freezing in his chest seemed to drop another several degrees anyway. ‘Don’t listen to it, just—‘ He reached over and flicked on the sink, letting it pour a strong stream. Ah—Ohhh, that made it worse! He couldn’t hear the footsteps anymore, but his bladder was reacting as though all the water shooting out of the tap was landing directly inside of IT. It was just like the times he’d had to accompany Trunks to the restroom and just— Just stand there, and endure, and HOLD i— Another stream suddenly started to pour. REALLY slowly at first, but then it picked up speed and Vegeta was able to feel the pressure fade. It startled him, he hadn’t felt it coming. He hadn’t gotten that ‘pinch’ he usually did… He’d just started to go. Listening to the water had HELPED. As he tried to enjoy the release, Vegeta also tried to tamp down some frustration. Had this been the answer the whole time? If he heard enough running water, would he just go? That was so… Simple! Sure, he wouldn’t have access to a sink everywhere, but perhaps rivers and waterfalls could accomplish the same thing. If THIS was really all he’d been needing, if the problem was finally SOLVED and GONE, then he just wished he’d considered it earlier! He finished, feeling triumphant. He’d defeated his enemy. He’d found the correct attack to use against it, and now he would NEVER struggle again just so long as he had access to enough water. He’d never again have to entertain the thought that there was something he ‘couldn’t’ do. Victory declared, he returned to the bedroom. Now that he was beside Bulma again, the ice was gripping him once more at the thought of TELLING her that he’d annihilated something. That… Didn’t usually happen. In fact, it never had. In the past, whenever he’d won anything, he was beyond eager to boast about it. But THIS time… Shouldn’t the chilly tingling beneath his skin be GONE now? The problem had been vanquished, so it should have taken the stupid FEELING with it! Bulma watched him for a second, “Were you able to—“ “Y—Yes,” Vegeta said. The frigid knots tightened, as he suddenly felt like he was confessing to something shameful, rather than celebrating a victory. Bulma didn’t respond further, just switched off the light and went to sleep. Vegeta dreamed of Frieza again that night. In the dream, everything seemed to be under water, his surroundings blurred and foggy. Frieza was speaking, going on and on about… Something. Vegeta couldn’t hear it, every sound was muffled. The only things that remained clear to Vegeta were his own feelings, a gnarling twist of mortification mixed with a dead certainty of his own, insurmountable weakness. The next morning, Vegeta woke and tried to feel CONFIDENT. He’d WON, he could actually just… Pee now that he’d woken up, like most people did. If he turned the sink on, then his bladder would release, regardless of if Bulma was still nearby. He walked briskly past her to the restroom, ignoring her glare as he cut in front of her. He locked the door carefully, turned on the sink full-blast, and prepared to go. With Bulma right there at the door. Right. There. She was right there. His lungs felt frozen solid. He struggled to breathe. He just told himself to wait for the sink to free him. It didn’t. A minute passed. His bladder shuddered and spasmed from all the tempting sounds and sights, but its exit pathway remained welded completely shut. Another minute. More of the same. He gritted his teeth and tried not to tap his foot. Yet another minute. A knock on the door. “Er… Vegeta, I know you’re… Dealing with…” He heard her just barely stifle a laugh. “…Something right now, but I DO need to shower. If you’d like, I can go wait in the hall again.” Maybe if she hadn’t come so close to laughing, maybe then he’d be able to force himself to agree… He put his clothing back together, switched the sink back off, and stomped out. “It’s yours,” he said. “I—I’m sorry, Vegeta…” Bulma said. “I know this is… Difficult.” “Then don’t laugh. It ISN’T funny.” “I’m sorry,” Bulma repeated. “It’s not. If you REALLY need to go now—“ “Don’t— Don’t ‘check’ on me,” Vegeta ordered. “If it was… urgent, I’d tell you.” “… WOULD you?” Vegeta looked away. It had been BEYOND difficult to tell Bulma he was going to the toilet last night. He couldn’t imagine telling her that he was actually really desperate. “Well, I’m going to shower,” Bulma said, warily heading that way. Moments later, Vegeta could hear water running again, and it made him tense up his thighs. Why hadn’t the sink worked a second time?! Why was his problem STILL a problem?! He thought he’d KILLED it! He’d accomplished the first step last night. He’d TOLD Bulma that he was going to pee, and then he actually managed to pee afterwards. Kakarot would probably claim that was a huge accomplishment— As if PISSING should EVER be considered an accomplishment! When Bulma returned, she tried speaking to him again. “I’m REALLY sorry that I almost laughed,” she said. “It’s just… I think about all the other things you’ve done, and that THIS should be—“ “I am VERY aware that I should have no difficulty urinating when I’ve destroyed PLANETS before,” Vegeta interrupted. “I don’t need a reminder.” “But, I get it, you have anxie—“ “NO.” “You have… An enemy that controls your bladder,” Bulma amended. “It’s great that you were able to beat it last night. Try to go again now. I promise I won’t laugh.” Vegeta grumbled to himself. Bulma clapped her hands. “What is it you told me when you REFUSED to leave your gravity chamber for Trunks’s parent-teacher conference? I believe you yelled ‘Woman! I won’t get any better if I don’t keep training!’ So, it’s time to keep training!” Vegeta stayed silent, then a sharp spike in pressure made him blurt out “FINE.” Vegeta entered the restroom, but not even a full second after he’d shut the door, he’d rushed back out. His face was pale and his body quivered. Bulma saw something in him that she’d very seldom seen before; Fear. This was actually scary to him? So scary that he was shaking and couldn’t even make himself TRY? That was so uncharacteristic of him that she worried if something had actually CHASED him out. The idea of what could possibly be terrifying enough to make Vegeta run made Bulma shudder. “Vegeta…?” Bulma asked warily. “Is something in there?” Vegeta paused to catch his breath. As his terror seemed to fade, embarrassment took over. “N—No… I just… Don’t have to go as badly as I’d thought. If you insist on doing this, it should be saved for later.” Bulma didn’t know if she believed that. While he looked calmer, he was still shaking, legs pressed together. He wasn’t comfortable. But, perhaps once he needed to go badly enough, it WOULD happen whether she was around or not. So, maybe they SHOULD keep waiting, she could even try to get him to drink a little bit. He’d likely refuse in an effort to stall this for as long as possible, but— He kept looking back at the door… Out of temptation? Wariness? “You know, you could at least TRY now,” Bulma said. “It isn’t like you to not even tr—“ Vegeta looked away. “Something… Needs to be… I’m not going in there.” The fear was back again, Bulma really wanted to sit him down and explain what ‘anxiety was and that it wasn’t a huge deal. Feeling ashamed of it was only making it worse. “Just—“ “No, dammit— Not with— Not with what’s in there—“ Wait, so something HAD chased him out? Bulma bit her lip. What horrible monster were they up against now? And why had it appeared in her bathroom of all places?! “Wh—What is it…?” With a trembling hand, Vegeta opened the door. Bulma looked inside with trepidation, searching for whatever it was that had horrified him so much. She didn’t see ANYTHING, though. So, could their new foe turn invisible? “Vegeta, what’s—“ “It’s right there, woman!” Vegeta barked, pointing to the sink. Bulma stepped inside and peered down into the sink’s basin. There WAS something there, except it was… “Well, this is the most ridiculous excuse you could have come up with,” Bulma scoffed. “You won’t try to pee because there’s a tiny WORM in the sink?! Just wash it down the drai—“ “Destroy that thing!” Vegeta ordered, gazing at the creature as if it were Frieza, back to life and with a new, significantly more deadly form. Bulma stared at him. From the panic on his face it looked like maybe this WASN’T just an excuse, like he was ACTUALLY frightened. She bit down on a laugh, barely managing to restrain it to a quick giggle. “… Are you serious?” “What about this is a laughing matter to you?!” “You’ve… fought against androids and monsters, and— This— This is a WORM, Vegeta.” Vegeta turned about, gaze still fixated on the worm, his shuddering intensifying. Yes. It was a WORM, that was the PROBLEM. The fact Bulma couldn’t SEE that was maddening! He hated worms, HATED them! All wriggly, smooth and pink, sometimes they were wet and OOZING… He couldn’t think of a more nauseating creature! He HATED worms! Bulma couldn’t stop laughing as Vegeta stood there, petrified of something so tiny. She supposed it was GOOD that it had scared him this badly though, otherwise he may have tried to BLAST it away and destroyed the sink in the process. Bulma turned on the sink, washing the worm back down the drain. “There you go, it will never bother you again,” she said dryly. She paused for a moment. “Well? Do you have anything to say to me now?” Vegeta NEEDED to learn how to say ‘thank you’, a reminder wouldn’t hur— “Yes; If you tell ANYONE else about this, then I’ll END you.” Bulma just smiled, which only made him scowl more. “Of course I won’t.” Vegeta shifted. “N—Now, um…” He gritted his fists and straightened his throat. “Why are you still in here, woman?! I’m the prince, I deserve privacy!” “Yes, yes, alright…” Bulma said, backing out of the room. Vegeta shut the door roughly, only barely restraining his frustration as he pulled the lock into place. That had been… Was there a level beyond ‘embarrassment’? Because, whatever it was, THAT was how Vegeta felt now. He’d kept his… ‘dislike’ of worms a secret his whole life. Only his FATHER had known about it when, at four years old, he’d hidden behind the man’s cape and whimpered that those squiggly, pink things were all ‘Frieza tails’ and that they were sure to spontaneously grow into the tyrant’s clones. He hadn’t meant to… ‘react’ like that in front of Bulma. He’d TRIED to handle it himself. He’d managed to stay in the room, alone with the worm, for a full second before it had begun to flick in a way that looked just a little TOO much like how Frieza’s tail moved whenever he was acting smug… So he’d just gotten too… ANNOYED by the stupid thing and needed it gone! And since he was so very, very annoyed, he’d accidentally let himself ACT like he may have been a tiny bit scared! Of course, he HADN’T been scared, even a little, but for Bulma to just THINK that he was… THAT was even more humiliating than letting her hear him pee! With that thought, he stood at the toilet and tried to make some use of it. His chest didn’t feel cold. Instead, his whole body was burning bright hot. How could he have let himself act so foolishly? Now Bulma probably had some crazy delusion that Vegeta was AFRAID of something! His mind became SO focused on the frustration he had with himself, the hatred towards that stupid worm that had PROMPTED his ridiculous behavior, that he wasn’t even THINKING about how he was SUPPOSED to be urinating. So, when his stream started to pour out, he was a bit startled. Hurriedly, he corrected his aim so that it wouldn’t hit the water and create a loud noise. He hadn’t been desperate, and it felt actually sort of strange to be voiding when he HADN’T spent the last several hours in total agony. The relief wasn’t nearly as intense as he was used to. It still felt good to get it out, and Bulma was… In the other room… Probably able to HEAR the trickling it produced. And he didn’t have that much in him! He wasn’t at full capacity! If he finished faster than usual, she was going to think his bladder was small, and— But, he ALSO hadn’t liked her commenting on it when he’d been letting go of his USUAL ocean, so— And, besides, she’d already witnessed him reacting to a WORM. That was WAY worse than ANYTHING to do with his bladder! Infinitely worse! *** Bulma COULD hear his stream as she laid in bed. She’d been able to hear it for quite a while now. Once more, she was concerned. He’d been going for SO long again, and she hadn’t noticed him shuddering or squirming his feet around like he did when he was bursting. How much was he usually holding back? He was GOING to hurt himself if he kept that up! Bulma granted that saiyan biology probably resulted in a larger bladder, but she’d seen Goku piss way more times than she’d ever wanted to, and even when he’d been holding himself and fidgeting, he’d be close to done after a minute. This hadn’t been an emergency for Vegeta, he’d been urinating for close to two minutes straight, and it didn’t sound like he’d be finished very soon. Bulma didn’t WANT to think about Goku and Vegeta’s urinary habits, but when one of them seemed intent on breaking his bladder, it was troubling. After ANOTHER full minute, she finally heard his release slowing down, coming to a gradual end a few seconds later. It was a really good thing Vegeta could fly, because if he ever got desperate while stuck in traffic, there wasn’t a bottle in existence that he wouldn’t overflow. Vegeta exited the restroom a few minutes later and walked past her. “In case you’ve gotten any strange ideas inside your head, I am most certainly NOT afraid of worms.” Bulma sighed. She considered arguing with him, but since he’d just accomplished something she KNEW was very difficult for him, she decided to ‘reward’ him slightly. “Of course you aren’t. Nobody would EVER think that.” Next time he pissed her off though, she knew EXACTLY what she’d stick inside one of his boots. She didn’t know what to say to him about what he’d just done. It felt wrong to praise a grown man (particularly one like Vegeta) for using the toilet. “Were you able to—“ “Yes,” Vegeta interrupted. “You… Couldn’t hear?” Bulma pursed her lips. In the last half hour, she’d learned three things; Vegeta was terrified of worms. Vegeta’s bladder was the largest on the planet. When Vegeta peed, it was so forceful that it sounded like a bunch of waterfalls fighting each other in a death-match. Did he not realize how much noise he was making? She was able to tell that he was TRYING to do it softly, trying NOT to spray it directly into the water, but that didn’t help much. However, he’d sounded really hopeful at the idea that she hadn’t been able to hear it… “Nope,” she said. “Not from all the way over here. That’s why I was asking.” “The door here must be thicker than it feels,” Vegeta said. “Oh, it’s REALLY thick,” Bulma said. She didn’t particularly WANT to continue, Vegeta’s ego didn’t NEED any more inflating. But, if it made him comfortable enough to urinate here more often, if it would keep him from damaging his bladder like she was afraid of… “You just can’t tell because of how strong you are, but when you were in there, I couldn’t hear anything! I’d need to be right next to the door to be able to listen.” “I am always able to hear the shower running from bed…” “Uh, well— That’s probably because of your Saiyan ears,” Bulma said. “A human like me can’t hear that well!” After that, Vegeta thought his problem had improved somewhat. He couldn’t go in FRONT of Bulma, but he could tolerate using the restroom if she was awake in the adjacent room, so long as she wasn’t right beside the door. He could handle her knowing that he was in there. It still wasn’t always EASY to get his stream started that way, but after enough mental reminders that Bulma would be unable to hear what he was doing, it would finally work. He hadn’t realized until then how big of an issue it really WAS to be unable to urinate near his mate. Once the nights where he’d need to sit there, tensing his pelvic muscles and anticipating the moment she fell asleep became a thing of the past, evenings with her became much more relaxing. He could actually unwind a little after a day of training, give every part of his body the break he knew it needed. Being able to really cool down every night had plenty of benefits. He actually felt himself growing stronger faster than before, since now the nights gave him actual BREAKS where he didn’t have to keep anything tensed. He thought he’d truly won now. He’d destroyed his enemy. It was gone. Banished. That stupid twitchy feeling, and all the issues that accompanied it, were GONE. They’d finally gotten the message that Vegeta was STRONGER than them, and they’d run away scared. That lasted for about a week. Then, he had another nearly incomprehensible Frieza-dream. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t see what was happening around him. He was just aware of Frieza’s presence, and a total loss of power. He woke, the feelings clinging to him, eating away any sense of accomplishment he may have had. He had a spot he could pretty much always urinate now. But that spot only existed at home. And he could still only handle having BULMA see him go in there. He could not excuse himself in front of Trunks, or allow the boy to notice him heading to the restroom. And, any time he left Capsule Corp, he either had to make a hasty excuse to go home, or begrudgingly request ‘help’ from Kakarot if he needed to void badly enough. His enemy wasn’t defeated. Just, now he had methods to occasionally weaken it. Not good enough. It was supposed to be DEAD. If he could go inside his own body somehow, explore it until he found whatever was responsible for these feelings, and then blow it up… That would fix everything! He imagined a tiny, microscopic creature that blasted ice onto his rib-cage and skittered around quickly beneath his skin, creating that distracting, unnamable emotion that made it so difficult to urinate. He knew that WASN’T it, though. The cause of his problem was inside of him, but it wasn’t its own, separate entity. His bladder, his feelings, they were parts of him. Ultimately, he WAS fighting against himself. He tried to twist that around in his head; ‘Of course I can’t defeat ME, no one can defeat me!’ But then, there was that word again. ‘Can’t’. There weren’t supposed to be things he couldn’t do; Even winning a battle against himself. He needed to fight harder… When he walked in on Trunks having an argument with Kakarot’s second child, Vegeta accepted that his next battle had to occur SOON. “Calm DOWN, Goten,” Trunks groaned. “If you gotta pee, you should have done it before we started sparring!” “I didn’t HAVE to pee then!” Goten whined. “Lemme-“ “Fine, you can use the bathroom… But, it can’t be THAT bad. My Dad’s been holding it his whole life, you know!” “Huh?” Goten asked, suddenly going still as a perplexed look passed over his face. “Mister Vegeta’s never peed before?” Trunks shook his head. “Nope.” “… Is that why he’s so mad all the time?” “Goten…” Trunks sighed. “All I mean is, if he can do that, then WE should both be able to wait way longer, too. I’ve been trying to get better at it.” “I don’t think I wanna do that…” Goten said. “It hurts a lot already…” He ran off. Vegeta’s body was spiking with confused flashes of hot, brutal embarrassment that were occasionally doused by the cold shudders of… the OTHER feeling. This was the only aspect of himself that Vegeta did NOT want Trunks to ever copy. First, Trunks would feel the pride and superiority of being able to outlast those around him, then the shame every time he inevitably DID have to go, then the twitches, then the… Failure. And, with that failure, more shame than Trunks could imagine. Trunks didn’t need to endure this. Mimicking his father was a good way for him to develop an issue of his own. Vegeta thought the easiest way to make Trunks stop would be to wait for his small body to ‘overflow’ as it were. A couple accidents would teach him not to hold it. A couple accidents at HIS age would humiliate him. If Vegeta had ever soaked himself at EIGHT, he would have just knelt before Frieza and ASKED to be killed. Trunks may not react quite THAT drastically, but he could easily start associating urination with embarrassment, weakness and failure, and that was how ‘it’ started… Trunks was doing this to be like his father, because he believed his father never peed. That was what Vegeta had sought to convince EVERYONE of initially, and now he was faced with a concerning prospect that could ONLY be resolved by showing someone the opposite.

The next morning, Bulma didn’t mention anything that had occurred during the night, which Vegeta was grateful for. His shame still lingered over him like a cloud. It was so bad that he couldn’t manage to take his morning piss even when he was POSITIVE that he was alone. He needed something else to occupy his mind with. Everyone was getting together at Kame House to celebrate Buu’s defeat today, and he hoped THAT would provide a distraction. Parties generally annoyed him, they wasted time he could be using to train, and they were so loud that he couldn’t think. But, since he didn’t WANT to think today, he assumed he could tolerate it. He couldn’t tolerate it. There was another thing he hated about parties, especially when they were held in tiny, cramped homes like Kame House; If his bladder got full, he would be forced to keep it that way. He watched his son play with Kakarot’s youngest child for a while, before his body gave him a sharp reminder that he hadn’t yet relieved himself today. He was not even going to bother making an ATTEMPT to use the restroom here. He knew someone would see him head up there, and thus that they’d then be thinking about him peeing, about him NEEDING to pee, about his bladder overpowering him and forcing him to go empty it. The ice would overtake his entire chest, and nothing would come out. He’d stay in there longer than anyone ever should, so THEN everybody would be thinking ‘Oh, does Vegeta have trouble peeing? That’s hilarious!’ And even if all of that DIDN’T happen… This WAS Master Roshi’s house. He wouldn’t put it past the perverted old bastard to have tiny cameras hidden all over the restroom just in case one of the women had to use it. Vegeta was going to have to hold it, just like he always did. If only everyone would stop offering him drinks. He knew his refusal to have any of them was probably suspect. When the adult version of his son had first arrived in his time machine, he’d brought a whole bunch of beverages. Vegeta was the only one that didn’t have any. They were all awaiting Kakarot’s arrival, and Vegeta hadn’t been sure how long that would take. All he’d been sure of was that Bulma hadn’t left him alone while he was showering earlier, which had prevented him from using the toilet while he was in there, and his bladder was already uncomfortably bloated. Adding more fluid to his body, when he didn’t know how long he’d have to wait out here without any privacy, would be an awful idea. That day, his decision not to drink anything had caught people’s attention too. It was hot out, everyone was sweating. He’d felt thirsty and probably looked it, too. The purple-haired time traveler had REALLY tried to share a drink with him for reasons he hadn’t understood back then, and every time he said no and wiped sweat from his brow, he was met with confused looks. Now, the same thing was happening. Only worse because these days everyone here really considered him a friend. His refusals couldn’t be written off as moody aloofness like they had been years ago. “Come on, Vegeta,” Krillin said. “You look tenser than usual! Have a drink!” “No,” Vegeta said. His bladder convulsed, even one sip would add to the strain it was already dealing with. “You sure?” Kakarot came up beside them, “Oh, hey, Krillin!” He said. “Goten’s been trying to copy your Destrocto Disc, wanna teach him?” “W—Wow, he has?” Krillin asked. “Sure!” Vegeta released some tension once they’d gone, but not too much. His bladder was seriously starting to ache… The worst part was that he WAS thirsty… That was always a problem. Vegeta KNEW how important hydration was. If he didn’t drink enough water when he was training, if his body didn’t have the proper amount of fluid in it before a battle, any injuries he sustained would be WORSE. But, sometimes, he just COULDN’T make himself drink as much as he knew he needed to. Before long, he could feel heat creeping up his lower back. He wasn’t QUITE experiencing the Hell of having his kidneys ignited just yet, but he knew it was right on the horizon. It WOULD happen soon. His heart pounding, he knew that he needed to go… Tell Kakarot soon. But, every time he shifted his gaze to search for him, Kakarot was in the middle of a conversation. Vegeta told himself to just go over there and demand Kakarot ‘fight’ him. EVERYONE would believe that, they’d have no reason to think Vegeta actually wanted something else. He took one step. It was a mistake. The boiling in his back reached a sudden and excruciating peak, the familiar surge of acidic torment shot through him, making him feel like he was being blasted by every foe he’d ever faced at the same time. A gasp of pain fell from his lips and he barely managed to rush outside and run behind the house without letting out any mortifying sounds. Now, finally given some privacy, he moved his hands to squeeze himself. He allowed it for only a second, and the relief it brought made him sort of delirious. It was awful when he forced himself to let go again. The torment in his back hadn’t faded, running out here had made it so much worse, like he’d managed to slosh more boiling piss upwards through his body. Every bit of him felt hot and pained. He NEEDED to be… Somewhere else! Right now! He couldn’t fly away, he couldn’t even concentrate well enough to get IN the air, and even if he somehow managed it, such a DRASTIC change in gravity and position may actually cause him to explode. He could take Bulma’s plane, but then she’d demand to know why he was leaving suddenly without her. His only other option was to see if Roshi still had a boat, and that would take AGES. He told himself to keep writhing and squirming, once he had a better handle on things, he’d go to Kakarot, he’d demand to be taken somewhere private. He continued to jiggle and clutch himself, and found that his legs would NOT uncross and allow him to take a single step! He… Didn’t think he could make it… But, he also didn’t think he was CAPABLE of… Of… ‘going involuntarily’. When his bladder locked down, it became indestructible. The urine couldn’t escape, even when there was NO room inside of him for it to stay. He couldn’t move unless he got rid of this piss, but he couldn’t get rid of the piss unless he moved. His heart thundered, beating hard against the ice that had suddenly coated his ribs. He was actually STUCK, pinned by his own body- the one thing that he’d always been most proud of. How had it become his worst enemy? He was so ashamed that he couldn’t think of a way out of his predicament. He was rapidly losing the most personal battle he’d ever fought, his current nemesis was so much stronger than him, so strong that it prevented him from even walking forwards. He kept palming his crotch, cold sweat drenching him entirely. He tried to stop grabbing at himself, tried to splay his legs out, tried to act like he wasn’t exploding, because he knew all of his actions made no difference. His pee wouldn’t come out no matter how still he stood, all he was doing was making it more OBVIOUS that he was desperate, and if anyone came back here they’d catch him, all knotted up and frantic… This was… This was mortifying. Squeezing his eyes closed, he managed to take a few steps. Each one made shooting pangs stab through his back, the area below his ribs felt battered and destroyed. The very subtle impact of his feet on the ground was enough to deal damage, and now he wasn’t sure if walking or flying would feel worse. Flames scorched beneath his ribs, and he felt as though a part of his back was being ripped open by the sharpest claws to ever exist. For the first time since the day he and Kakarot had relieved themselves while fused, Vegeta managed to spring a very small leak. Horror took hold of him, the minuscule damp spot around his crotch feeling like it must have been the size of a lake. He knew that, at most, he’d accidentally spurted just three or four drops and there was no way that was visible. Yet, he couldn’t stop THINKING that it was obvious he’d soiled himself. He was so terrified of what his bladder was threatening to do to him that he freed himself and aimed at the sand below his feet. ‘Okay, bladder. If you don’t WORK, I’m going to RIP you out of my body and throw you into the sun!’ When he finally was able to look down to search for any wetness near his crotch, he saw a bloated knot of need protruding out of him. His bladder always looked swollen when he had to pee, but today it looked more engorged than ever. It embarrassed him to no end. Even if he was able to stand completely still now, his legs apart, his hands clasped behind his back, not wriggling in the slightest, anyone who looked would STILL know he was desperate. His bladder was visibly filled beyond any reasonable capacity. Again, he was not able to feel proud of himself for holding so much. He only held so much because he was incapable of performing a very basic function. This wasn’t strength, this was weakness. This was inadequacy. This was disgraceful. Now that he was aiming, BEYOND ready to let everything out, nothing was happening. He couldn’t go, he could only stand there and endure, and he was so TIRED of enduring. There was zero benefit in this. Until they encountered a villain that said it would blow up the planet unless someone beat it in a holding contest, all of Vegeta’s unintentional bladder-training was useless. ‘Maybe that’s how I should have tried to kill Frieza; Challenge him to such a contest, and then just wait for him to explode.’ He made himself stand there for another few minutes, back screaming, bladder churning, not letting go of a drop. It just wasn’t going to happen. His body had made up its mind. It wasn’t going to listen. He fumbled his clothing back together and somehow managed to take a step. Then another. And another. Now that he was finally moving, he didn’t let himself stop. Outside the door to the house, he did his best to straighten out. His hands clung to one another rather than his crotch, his ankles parted slightly, and he forced himself to enter. He was as presentable as he could hope to get. Vegeta approached Kakarot and then simply stood there silently, bobbing on his heels as subtly as he could manage. “Hey Vegeta,” Kakarot said. “What’s— Oh. Let’s go outside.” Vegeta’s heart rate ramped up. Kakarot could tell SO easily! If it was that obvious to Kakarot, could everyone ELSE tell, too? Were they all silently thinking ‘Wow, Vegeta’s ready to burst!’ Were they just not saying anything out of fear of incurring his rage? He’d always thought he was GOOD at hiding his urgency, now he wasn’t so sure. At least it meant he didn’t have to TELL Kakarot what he wanted. He followed the other Saiyan outside, and was unable to help himself “Was I really THAT obvious?” He demanded. A hand started creeping back towards his dick, he curled his fingers in and forced it away, permitting his legs to cross again instead. Kakarot shrugged, “Nope… I just know what to look for. I don’t think anyone else noticed. You mostly just looked like you’re cold.” Vegeta was aware of his shaking, it was the one thing he’d never been able to suppress. He could fight against the desire to tangle his legs or clutch at himself for a while, but the twitching brought about by clenching up so hard was unstoppable. “So, I guess it’s too crowded here, huh?” Kakarot asked, WAY too loudly in Vegeta’s honest opinion. Everyone inside could probably HEAR. “You’re not able to—“ “—I’m not able to fight you on this tiny island,” Vegeta said, even louder. “There isn’t enough space. If you want to do this, we’ll have to go somewhere else.” “Are you able to fly?” WHY did Kakarot have to have such a loud voice? Maybe… Maybe he didn’t, it didn’t sound this loud normally, but right now it sounded to Vegeta like he was speaking into a megaphone. He dug his heels into the sand, shifting his feet around. The icy feeling had dripped down from his chest to wrap around his bladder, making it all the more difficult to hold onto. Worse, he knew that he COULDN’T fly. And even if he COULD, then all he’d be able to see when he looked down would be the rippling ocean. Just hearing it lapping on the shore right now was doing all sorts of unpleasant things to his insides. It would take quite some time for him to reach a place where he could go. He needed to be in a spot like that NOW. When Kakarot first returned from space years ago and announced that he’d learned how to teleport, Vegeta had been both stunned and frustratingly envious. But then Kakarot had told him HOW his instant transmission ability actually worked; Kakarot could travel to wherever he wanted by focusing on a specific person’s chi, then he would spontaneously appear near them. And, after that, all Vegeta could feel was… THAT way… Every time he tried to urinate, he couldn’t help but think that Kakarot was going teleport himself right beside him for some inane reason. It made it so that, even when he was completely alone, Vegeta didn’t FEEL like he was. He was reluctantly glad that, after Kakarot had found out about the… issue, he’d promised NOT to use that technique unless he was already certain that Vegeta wasn’t trying to relieve himself. Kakarot’s ability could actually be helpful with this issue too, however. “O—Of course I can fly! Why wouldn’t I be able to?” He said. “But, I’m impatient. Use instant transmission.” Goku had never thought about using instant transmission to help Vegeta out with this. Since he could only teleport to a PERSON and not to a PLACE he thought it wouldn’t be of much use. Vegeta needed to be somewhere WITHOUT other people, after all. He could at least get him a lot CLOSER to some privacy this way, though. He considered where to take him. Bulma’s father was at Capsule Corp, so he could get Vegeta home that way… Capsule Corp was HUGE though, and Vegeta had reluctantly admitted that there were only a couple toilets that he could reliably use there. If where they appeared wound up being too far away from them… Chi-Chi was still home, and Goku could take Vegeta straight to the woods. It wouldn’t be much of a walk… But, Goku knew a little TOO well now what a ‘full bladder’ felt like to Vegeta. When they’d been fused, Goku had been AMAZED that they’d been capable of taking even five steps without either collapsing or having an accident. The woods still seemed like the best option, so Goku grabbed Vegeta’s shoulder, focused hard on his wife’s chi, and a second later they’d appeared before her in his kitchen. Chi-Chi jumped backwards, startled. “Gah! Goku, I’ve told you to stop surprising me with that! You’re gonna give me a heart atta— And WHY did you bring Vegeta here?” “Because, Master Roshi told me that… One of the Cell Juniors actually got away a few years ago. And it’s hiding in the woods. So, Vegeta and I are gonna split up to look for it!” Vegeta felt… Something that could perhaps be called ‘impressed’, by how quickly Kakarot had come up with an explanation. Chi-Chi seemed to have fallen for it, too. Absolutely nothing about her expression indicated skepticism. Vegeta reluctantly admitted to himself that HE probably would have gotten so flustered trying to give a response that he accidentally revealed too much. “Well, okay,” Chi-Chi said. “Don’t let that thing near my house.” She turned to Vegeta, looked at him for just long enough to make him sweat. “Are you cold…? You’re shivering.” “L—Let’s go, Kakarot,” Vegeta said. He cleared his throat, trying to banish the twitching from his voice. He had to go so badly that it was getting hard to speak, his bladder throbbed so severely that he had to clench his hands into fists to avoid putting them between his legs. That was one of the most maddening parts of his problem; Since he couldn’t urinate when he was TRYING to, the odds of an accident were virtually non-existent. Yet, the base urge to grip himself and squeeze his opening closed still remained in spite of this knowledge. No matter where his hands were, his bladder would remain full and his pipes welded shut, but holding himself still SOMEHOW made it feel better. He desired to do it now so strongly that his fingers were spasming. Taking in a shuddering breath, Vegeta added, “I’m… Overflowing with energy, I have to destroy something before I explode.” “Seeya, Chi-Chi!” Kakarot said as he took Vegeta out the front door. When he heard it shut behind them, Vegeta allowed one hand to press into his crotch. Immediately, he felt a new sense of security. Some of the pressure bearing down right behind his opening faded. His thighs tensed, his knees and ankles crossed, and his foot tapped uncontrollably as he doubled forwards. It wasn’t until a few seconds had passed that he realized he hadn’t actually thought twice about allowing himself to engage in these behaviors in front of Kakarot. When Kakarot SPOKE the embarrassment flooded him “O—Oh, you need to go WAY worse than I thought. It’s almost over, you just have to make it to the woods— Do you want me to carry y—“ “Finish that question and it will be the last thing you ever say,” Vegeta warned, taking the first few painful steps. “It’s— I don’t need to— It isn’t THAT bad.” The words sounded ridiculous even to him, everything about his body language displayed that it most certainly WAS ‘that bad’. His bladder thought that Kakarot carrying him to a tree was a brilliant suggestion. His bladder didn’t like being shaken up every time Vegeta drew his legs apart to step forwards. His bladder would prefer it if he could just writhe and twist and clutch himself until someone ELSE got him to where he needed to be. His bladder was unworthy of being in his body after making such vile suggestions. He SHOULD launch into the sun… He was breathing heavily after only a handful of steps. THIS was also one of the worst parts. How the HELL could he be so winded after basically doing NOTHING? He hadn’t been fighting, he hadn’t been using any energy attacks, he hadn’t been flying, or even just RUNNING— He’d been WALKING. He wasn’t even wearing weighted clothing or experiencing heightened gravity, yet his bladder dragged him down like he’d put two-ton armbands on both his wrists! It was so pathetic that it made him want to blow something up just to feel powerful again for a second. He made it to the woods, and walked a little deeper so that he could no longer see Kakarot’s house. Bouncing in place a little, he decided that this spot would hopefully be usable and started to work at his clothing. “Wait, hold it!” Kakarot said, distress wavering in his voice. Startled Vegeta stopped what he was doing and scowled. If something dangerous really WAS wandering around in these woods, it was the worst possible time. His poor bladder had actually started to LOOSEN as he’d been preparing to water the tree, now it was practically pulsating from the shock of having to clamp everything back down again. Vegeta didn’t sense anything nearby other than Kakarot but, as he’d begrudgingly had to learn, a full bladder messed with most of his abilities. “What?” He demanded. “What is it?” “Is… Um… Is THAT your bladder?!” Kakarot asked, and Vegeta turned to see that Kakarot was WAY too close to him, and staring down at his midsection with wide eyes. Vegeta didn’t understand what was so fascinating to him all of the sudden. Vegeta’s bladder was really full, so his abdomen looked round and bloated, a sharp distended curve protruding there. That was just NORMAL. That was how someone LOOKED when they needed to urinate. Kakarot should have been plenty familiar with it. “What the Hell are you looking at?! Face the other way!” “S—Sorry, it’s just— Mine’s never DONE that!” It was Vegeta’s turn to be surprised. It… Hadn’t? Maybe Kakarot had just never LOOKED at that spot closely enough when he had to go and had never noticed it. Vegeta was POSITIVE that getting a little swollen was what happened to ANYONE when they needed to void. “You just haven’t paid attention,” Vegeta decided. “Now, turn around!” “Sorry, sorry!” Kakarot repeated, and Vegeta heard him taking a few steps away. Satisfied that Kakarot was no longer staring, Vegeta pulled himself out and aimed between his feet. The pressure at his tip was excruciating, he really wanted the liquid to erupt right then and there, but it was never that simple. He stomped his feet and dug his heels in, gritting his teeth as he tried to push down on his holding muscles. This only seemed to make them pull tauter, though. He knew that he probably wasn’t supposed to strain like that, he was supposed to let something RELAX. He tried to remember the last time he’d relaxed. Maybe he’d done it once as an infant. He heard Kakarot clear his throat. “You can do it, Vegeta!” He said. Dammit, THIS again… All of these ridiculous, little comments. All this ‘support’, like it was somehow acceptable for Vegeta to NEED support when he did this. The awful thing was how calm and matter-of-fact Kakarot was about it, nothing in his tone suggested that he found it even SLIGHTLY weird to… To basically cheer Vegeta on as he tried to relieve himself. Nothing in his tone suggested that Kakarot even knew that he SHOULD have found it weird. He acted like this was just natural and happened all the time. The most annoying part was how well it worked. Vegeta was glad that SOMETHING made his bladder empty, but he wished that it could be something OTHER than Kakarot babbling nonsensical encouragements at him. “You can do it!” Kakarot repeated. “Your bladder’s so much weaker than you! You can win!” As he continued, Vegeta finally felt the stinging sensation that came right before he started to go. It hurt as badly as ever, but he forced himself to bear down on that feeling until he started to dribble into the dirt. Finally… Something was coming out. It was such a weak, light dribble that it didn’t make a dent in the pressure, but if he kept pushing and didn’t let it fade away, he knew he’d be spraying in a few seconds. “There you go!” Kakarot said. “See? Easy, right?” Immediately, his stream picked up speed and he was so going so much that he no longer had to force it. The painful sensations vanished in an instant, finally being replaced by the relief he’d been craving. He couldn’t allow himself to let go completely, however. He clenched his jaw, the urge to let loose an embarrassing moan that Kakarot would DEFINITELY hear was hard to beat down. Why did this need to feel so good, anyway? Why did this shameful, embarrassing action have to be so enjoyable? He would have preferred that it just felt like nothing, the fact that it instead felt so deliriously good that he sometimes caught himself shivering with pleasure was humiliating. If his bladder wanted to be so disobedient, he thought it could at least do him the courtesy of NOT tempting him to moan or slump over when it finally decided to listen to him and drain out. He didn’t WANT to like the sensation of urinating so much— That he could find ANY enjoyment in performing such a mortifying task infuriated him. This had ultimately begun because he’d so desired to convince everyone that he simply never had the need to void. If only that were true… But, when he STOPPED thinking about others for a moment, and just concentrated on himself, on the pleasant sensation of the bulge in his midsection loosening, of his bladder finally contracting down to a manageable size… It was something that went beyond mere ‘relief’. It was bliss, and he didn’t ever want the feeling to go away. For a very small moment, he didn’t think at all, he just let himself feel, so when the sigh fell from his lips he didn’t even notice. “Ahhh…” Kakarot DID notice it. “Feeling better?” “Sh—shut up, Kakarot!” Vegeta yelled back. His chest tightened again, but somehow the embarrassment washing over him wasn’t enough to cut his stream off. He felt like he was nearly done anyway, thankfully. “Oh, sorry…” Kakarot said. “Wasn’t thinking. I’ve just never heard you make a noise like that before, so I was surpr—“ Vegeta felt the last of his piss flow out just in time for him to put his clothing back together and stomp over to Kakarot. “You didn’t,“ he hissed. “…Huh?” “You. Heard. NOTHING,” Vegeta informed darkly. “Whatever you THOUGHT you heard, if you ever mention it again, there’s not a dragon in the universe that will be able to fix what I do to you!” Kakarot just blinked at him. “Well, okay…” He said. “Did you finish?” Vegeta nodded and turned away, arms folded. He HOPED that Kakarot wouldn’t say it this time. Please DON’T say it this time, PLEA— Of course, he said it. “Good job, Vegeta!” It was a wonder that Kakarot’s insistence upon telling him that hadn’t ever made his bladder lock up. “HOW many times do I have to tell you; NEVER say that again!” “But, you like it when I compliment you,” Kakarot said, and his voice was so CERTAIN that Vegeta wanted to silence him permanently. “I do NOT,” Vegeta insisted. Maybe… Maybe he… Sort of DID… Really, really like it when BULMA praised him— Especially during… One very specific situation. But, he didn’t like hearing it from Kakarot! “Sure you do,” Kakarot said. “You usually smile when I do— And you always start peeing after I talk about how you’re strong—“ “Th—That’s a coincidence!” Vegeta said. “I would have… Started around then no matter what you’d said.” Kakarot shrugged, “I dunno… When I DON’T say stuff like that, you take way longer to go…” Last night. Vegeta hadn’t been able to finish going until he’d PRETENDED Kakarot was there, saying those exact th— That didn’t mean he NEEDED to hear it, though. It HELPED, but it wasn’t necessary! It couldn’t have been necessary. Because if it WAS necessary, that meant that he was beginning to DEPEND on Kakarot for something, and at that point he may as well lock himself in the gravity chamber for the rest of his life and never be seen again. He could not allow himself to become dependent on Kakarot for ANYTHING, and especially not this. That reminded him of his idea from last night. “Kakarot, do you have any of the dragon balls?” “Yeah, a couple.” “Great. Hand them over.” Kakarot, infuriating as he was, didn’t immediately agree. No. Instead, he chose to ASK Vegeta what he wanted to use them for, because “we should only use them when we NEED to”. Vegeta didn’t think it was ANY business whatsoever of Kakarot’s what he intended to ask the dragon for, but Kakarot wouldn’t budge. “Just tell me what you’re gonna do with them,” Kakarot said. “If it IS a really good reason, then I’ll give you the ones I have.” Vegeta scowled, unwilling to look up and meet Kakarot’s eyes. “I— I intend to— I’m planning to… That is, I’d LIKE to…” Why was this so hard to say? Yes, his problem was beyond shameful, but that meant he SHOULDN’T feel so embarrassed to say that he wanted it GONE. How was he ever going to speak his wish aloud to the dragon if he couldn’t even tell Kakarot?! Goku watched as Vegeta struggled to form words. Once again, Vegeta was having trouble expressing his feelings. Goku was used to that, Vegeta’s thoughts often didn’t want to leave his head and be shared. “Do you wanna fuse so I can hear what you’re thinki—“ “No!” Vegeta snapped. “I just need the dragon balls you have, I’m gathering them— The reason WHY is unimportant, it doesn’t concern you. If you don’t hand them over willingly, we can settle this with—“ “Well, I’ll give ‘em to you so long as you’re using them to wish for something important,” Kakarot explained. “If something big happens and we need them again, I don’t wanna wait a whole year.” “I assure you, my intentions with them ARE to do something important,” Vegeta said. “Vital, even…” He paused, remembering when Kakarot had gotten sick with the heart virus. The dragon wasn’t able to cure that… But, what Vegeta had wasn’t a DISEASE, really. It was… Well, he didn’t want to LABEL what it was, but it wasn’t an illness. “I would like the dragon to… Erase something from existence.” Kakarot was quiet for a moment. “Oh, okay. Yeah, I get it. You want to ask the dragon to make it easier for you to pee, don’t you?” “I— I—“ Vegeta went even redder. How had he figured it out?! Blasted Kakarot! “That’s… Maybe.” “I’m not sure… The dragon can’t cure viruses and stuff,” Goku said. “I know you aren’t sick, but… I mean, YOU fight against it really hard and still ca—“ He clamped his mouth shut before he accidentally uttered Vegeta’s most reviled word and caused his friend to shut him out completely. “And—And still have… Trouble. So, I dunno if the dragon will be able to do it.” Noticing the almost dangerous look on Vegeta’s face, Goku quickly added “B—Because, you know, YOU’RE stronger than the dragon, and if it’s so hard for you, then…” He trailed off. “This is true,” Vegeta said. He still wanted to try… Sort of. The more he pictured it, though, the less he liked what he saw. The sky would go pitch black and the enormous dragon would burst to life, floating high above him. The dragon, in its immense booming voice, would then order him to state his wish. And then he’d have to say, out loud, and with the full power of his voice; “I wish to be able to urinate, no matter how many people are near me!” He didn’t know how he’d EVER get the words out. And like Hell would he tell Kakarot to ask FOR him… Kakarot would find the most embarrassing way to phrase it! “Hey, Shenlong, my best friend can’t take a leak, and that makes his poor body hurt REALLY bad. Fix it.” “Ugh, never mind,” Vegeta said. “It would be a shameful thing to ask for.” “I think that’s the problem,” Kakarot said. “You’re feeling ashamed of stuff that you shouldn’t. If you stop thinking about how peeing is ‘embarrassing’, you wouldn’t have trouble. I don’t think it’s embarrassing at all—“ “—Because you lack the pride of a Saiyan.” “Because it shouldn’t BE embarrassing,” Kakarot told him. “Everyone does it…” “I’m aware of that, don’t you think I’ve thought of that before? It doesn’t make a difference.” Goku thought back to when they’d been fused, the feelings he’d experienced and the emotions that had filled Vegeta’s thoughts. The thoughts had made the tension in their body worsen, so Goku KNEW that the thoughts were responsible for it. Looking back, what had been on Vegeta’s mind wasn’t JUST embarrassment, there had also been a LOT of panic. Like, Vegeta was scared, but a certain KIND of scared that was unlike how Goku felt when Chi-Chi told him he was going to the doctor to get a shot. It wasn’t a sudden intense wave of fear, it was something more constant, its strength rising and falling in accordance to how cluttered Vegeta’s thoughts were. Goku tried to think of a time he’d experienced that for himself… Maybe a few times when he’d been training for a battle, he’d felt like that for a minute or two… But, it went away as soon as he’d told himself ‘You can do it!’ enough times. Those feelings were easy for him to get rid of. They seemed to like to stick around for Vegeta, though. Goku wasn’t sure exactly WHAT that feeling was, he just recognized that it must have been a TYPE of fear. “Does the idea of someone seeing you go scare you?” He knew the question was a mistake as soon as it left his mouth. Furious, Vegeta shouted; “Of course not! You KNOW me, I don’t HAVE fears.” Goku could think of several things which Vegeta definitely WAS afraid of, but he knew better than to mention them. “You DO have some kind of bad feeling when you think about someone watching, though…” “Well, it isn’t ‘fear’,” Vegeta scowled. The buzzing in his chest, the racing of his heart, the panicked thoughts… That asinine ‘feeling’ was NOT anything resembling fear, it was just something that annoyed him and didn’t deserve to be anywhere near him. “And…It’s not… I don’t just think about people seeing. I already TOLD you, it’s having them KNOW at all that I’m… Doing that. Thinking about how I… Couldn’t wait anymore, or—“ “But, you need to understand no one would care, or expect you to be able to hold it forever.” To Goku, the solution was so simple! Once Vegeta stopped THINKING the way he did about this, the problem would vanish immediately! “I’m aware of that,” Vegeta said. “Again, it doesn’t make a difference. And what bothers me the MOST isn’t even THAT. It’s… When it won’t… ‘start’. If someone notices, then…” “It’s hard for you to pee, because you’re scared about someone noticing that it’s hard for you to pee?” “I am NOT sca—“ “Okay, okay…” Goku raised his hands. “You aren’t… You’re… Um…” He struggled to think of a term that wouldn’t irritate Vegeta. “Your bladder has… A… Really outstanding defensive technique!” Vegeta didn’t immediately start protesting, nor did his frown get any deeper, so Goku decided he’d said the right thing. “But, it’s using that AGAINST you now,” Goku said. “I think you’re gonna have to push yourself.” “I push myself EVERY da-“ “I meant with… You know, your ‘thing’… Are you able to pee around your family?” “No…” Vegeta admitted. Last night had shown him that he definitely wasn’t able to do that. That was the first time he’d ever urinated with Bulma awake and near him, and what had followed after he’d realized she was there was something he NEVER wanted to repeat. He didn’t want her to have a reason to THINK about him peeing ever again. If anything, it was trickier to do it near her NOW than it had been when he first started staying at Capsule Corp. He had… feelings about her now that hadn’t been there before, and those feelings told him that he couldn’t let her see him as vulnerable. It was impossible around Trunks as well. He never had managed to pee in front of him when he was a toddler like Bulma’s parenting book had instructed. As Trunks got older and became more aware of things, Vegeta was even LESS likely to be able to pee near him. He was just glad that Bulma had finally agreed that Trunks was capable of using public men’s rooms by HIMSELF. In the past, whenever Trunks had to go while they were out, Bulma had forced Vegeta to take him in there. His protests of “No one is even going to be ABLE to kidnap a super Saiyan!” all went unheard. Of course, it HAD to be him that took Trunks, too. For reasons that went far beyond his comprehension, the Earthlings had chosen to segregate their public restrooms between males and females. This had not been the case on his home planet, nor had he seen it on many of the other planets he’d been to. If the inhabitants urinated and had multiple sexes, then they all used the same facilities. It had always confused him that Earthlings segregated one another for this. He really couldn’t figure out why that segregation was based on sex. If it was based on… ‘People who can go where others can hear them’ and ‘People who want to pee in a sound-proof room with fifty indestructible locks while totally alone’, THEN it would at least make some sense. One of the most humiliating things that had ever happened to him occurred within his first few weeks spent on Earth. Bulma had taken him out somewhere, he couldn’t even remember WHERE anymore, just that at some point she’d convinced him to take off his gloves and feed some hideous Earth-creature. Vegeta wore his gloves for a good reason, often the creatures he’d fought against in space would be slimy, and he didn’t want his precious fists marred with ooze. The Earth-creature’s tongue was just as slimy, and left a sheen of drool on his hands. “Ugh, that is revolting,” he’d complained. “Look, woman. THIS is why I need my gloves.” Bulma looked down at his palms. “Wait, so you’re a germaphobe? That’s… Surprising.” “The hell’s a germaphobe?” “It means you’re scared of—“ “I fear nothing,” Vegeta interrupted. “These hands contain more power than you can imagine. Why would I allow them to be tarnished?” Bulma kept staring. She shut her eyes and didn’t open them for several seconds, rubbing her forehead. “… Well, just go wash them off in the bathroom, then. They’re over that way,” she pointed. Vegeta went to the building she’d indicated. There were two doors, he just went through the closest one. Immediately, some woman screamed at him to get out. He left, utterly perplexed, and found Bulma standing there laughing at him. “What’s so funny?!” Vegeta demanded. “Did you plan all of thi—“ “Did you not notice the door?” Bulma asked, still snorting. Vegeta looked back at the door, seeing an icon affixed to it. A circle on top of a triangle. Its meaning was impossible to decipher, yet Bulma acted as though it were obvious. “What?” “That’s the women’s.” He still didn’t understand. “What?” “The men’s is over there,” Bulma gestured once more. “Wait, so they’re separated?” “Uh, yeah?” “…Why?” Bulma had failed to provide an answer that he’d found satisfactory, and then she had the GALL to tell Kakarot that he’d gone into the women’s room. “So, in some ways, he’s a bit like you when you were younger!” Telling the story was already an insult, but to compare him to Kakarot on top of that?! The segregation may have been nonsensical, but it meant that Vegeta would HAVE to walk Trunks to the bathroom and then just stand awkwardly off the side while he used it. And, of course, Vegeta’s bladder would often be FULL as he did this. Everything he heard, everything he saw, all of it was such a horrid tease to his own urge. It was aggravating to have to stand there, holding it in, while people whom were so much WEAKER than him all accomplished the one thing he could never do. He was the only one in the restroom that could level a city with one finger, and also the only one that couldn’t pee. And these bathroom trips usually took a while. To Vegeta’s dismay, Trunks had apparently inherited his bladder from the Saiyan side of his family. When he started hopping around and saying “Daaad, it’s an emergency!” that meant Vegeta would have to spend at least two minutes enduring the sounds of streams hissing and toilets flushing before Trunks was finished. It was during one of these trips that Vegeta realized he would NEVER be able to bring himself to urinate near Trunks. It was only a couple years ago, so Trunks had probably been about six. Vegeta had brought him into the restroom. He’d miscalculated something somewhere, either this trip was taking a lot longer than he’d thought, or the drinks he’d had today had moved through him faster than expected. Either way, something had gone wrong and his bladder was aching immensely. To his dismay, several of the urinals were being used. How could ANYONE use those?! There were no doors, absolutely NOTHING to use for cover, not a hint of privacy! Why had the Earthlings felt the need to invent such a ridiculous fixture?! He could hear the streams splashing into them very clearly, like rushing water hissing right next to his ears, filling up his head and bladder in equal measures. Generally, having extremely powerful hearing was a GOOD thing. If an opponent was moving too fast for him to see, his ears could EASILY make up the difference. Being able to hear so well was more of a curse when he so desperately didn’t WANT to hear something. If only there was a way to turn his ears OFF. Trunks finished relieving himself, and Vegeta told him to go wash his hands since he knew Bulma would be annoyed if he didn’t. Vegeta was trying VERY hard not to feel envious of his own son, but the feeling WAS there. His bladder’s sensitive walls shuddered when Trunks turned the sink on and one more watery-sound filled his ears. His thighs were tensed and his knees were pressed firmly together. There were copious demands from within to start moving around, to start squirming, to even give himself a very quick squeeze that hopefully no one would notice. The restroom was crowded though, so he knew someone WOULD notice. He also knew that trying to use a stall would be futile and only leave him more frustrated and desperate. Trying a urinal, trying to void out in the open with no cover, where someone would SURELY be able to tell he was having trouble, would probably cause him to die of embarrassment. The mall Bulma had insisted they visit that day was in the middle of the city, he was unlikely to find any privacy near it. Kakarot SHOULD have taught him how to use instant transmission before he’d died, then he could just teleport to somewhere that was a little less populated. Without Kakarot there, he had no way to do it. Kakarot SHOULD have chosen to be brought back to life right after the Cell Game. If Kakarot had been alive, if he’d been THERE, if Vegeta could go up to him and ask for some hel— For what he needed… ‘Kakarot, you moron! Why would you choose to stay dead? I need you here!’ Dammit, was he seriously MISSING Kakarot?! No. Of course not. He just missed urinating. That was all. Trunks finished up at the sink and turned around, “I’m done, Dad,” he said. “Good, now let’s get out of here,” Vegeta said, taking his wrist and leading him back through the door. His bladder started to calm down a little now that he could no longer hear others peeing. But, he still felt so bloated and walking around again after staying still had shaken the liquid in him up a bit. He paused in the hallway and quickly crossed his legs for a second before continuing to pace. Any relief he’d felt upon exiting the bathroom vanished when Trunks spoke up; “Dad, how come you never go?” “What are you talking about?” “When you take me to the bathroom, you always have to pee too, but then you never do it.” Vegeta had been TRYING not to get angry with the boy. He wanted to give Trunks a better childhood than he’d had, and his volatile temper made that hard. He was pleased that he hadn’t yet lost it and hit Trunks out of anger— This was why he never helped Trunks train if he was genuinely mad at him, he just couldn’t trust himself not to go too far and hurt him. He HAD, however, definitely yelled at his son pretty frequently and had said things that he knew he never should have. He felt flustered and a touch irritated now, but he did NOT want to shout. Trunks wouldn’t even understand that he’d hit a nerve, that he’d mentioned something Vegeta didn’t allow others to speak of. “I… Don’t have to,” he said. “Uh-huh, you were crossing your legs,” Trunks pointed out. “Why don’t you ever go? You’ll have an accident and Mom’ll get ma—“ “I won’t have an… I won’t do THAT. And I don’t use public facilities,” Vegeta stated. Trunks furrowed his brow at the unfamiliar word. “Fasss-illy—“ “It means ‘toilet’,” Vegeta explained. “Why not?” Trunks asked again. “You don’t need to know.” “But, doesn’t it hurt to hold it all the—“ “Trunks!” Vegeta interrupted sharply. Trunks’s lip started to tremble and Vegeta hastily lowered his tone. “I don’t… I don’t go because… You can train your bladder to get stronger too, and—“ He stopped abruptly, remembering how his problem had started. There were a LOT of things he wanted Trunks to inherit from him— Strength, honor, pride, determination… He didn’t want to accidentally encourage Trunks to inherit THIS. “Just— As you get older, you can wait longer.” “Oh… But, you keep acting like you have to go really bad,” Trunks said. “You cross your legs and do this…” Trunks started to hop exaggeratedly in place, getting faster and faster, only stopping when he made himself dizzy. Vegeta watched his son’s mimicry in horror. He didn’t ever jiggle around THAT much, did he?! To his dismay, he had a sudden urge to start bouncing on his toes when a new surge of need ramped up inside him. Trunks was looking up at him now, no way could he allow any sort of wriggling. “That’s… I’m… Actually, that’s… A way for me to give my legs a work-out when I’m busy with something else.” Trunks didn’t appear to believe him. “I don’t think I’ve seen you go at home, either… Have you just been holding it your whole life?” Recounting as much of this as he could to Kakarot, Vegeta explained, “So, I think Trunks can tell there’s something wrong. And, as I mentioned, people KNOWING makes it—“ “Like I keep saying,” Kakarot told him. “I think the problem is you focus so much on what other people are thinking about. You can go in front of me now because you were able to find out what I was thinking. You can’t fuse with Trunks or Bulma, but I think if you TRY to go around them a few times, it will get easier. And don’t think about doing it for THEM, either. Focus on how you want to get better just so YOU can feel comfortable.” No. No. No. He was NOT going to ask Bulma OR Trunks to be there with him while he inevitably FAILED to urinate. “Absolutely not.” “Think of it like you’re training. You start easy, and then—“ “No.” Goku sighed. This was REALLY the only solution he could think of. If Vegeta wanted his problem to improve, then he was going to have to FIGHT it. It was so unlike his friend to back down from a challenge. With that, he thought he had a way to convince Vegeta to try, and he braced himself for the wrath he was sure to incur in the process. “So, that’s it? You’re just gonna accept defeat?” Vegeta said nothing, but Goku saw a twitching in his jaw. Just a little further… “You think THIS is way too strong for you? So much that you won’t even try?” More twitching, his eyelid was starting to spasm as well. Goku knew which word to use now, he knew EXACTLY what term would really set him off…“I guess if the Prince of all Saiyans REALLY thinks that he just CAN’T—“ “Kakarot, how dare you speak to me this way?!” Vegeta exploded. “To even SUGGEST that I’d be intimidated by THIS… Of course I can destroy it, and I don’t need YOUR help!” Goku watched as Vegeta abruptly and furiously flew off. He smiled. “Good luck!” He called. “Bite me!”

Yeah, it was actually easier to stand than it was to sit a lot of the time.

With most STPs I could pee through a fly. I could do it without a device if my clothes were loose enough. Using urinals specifically was/still is a challenge for me because of pee-shyness. If I was in a single-stall bathroom with a urinal, I'd sometimes manage to relax and use it though.

Vegeta woke in the middle of the night feeling sharp, throbbing pulses in his abdomen. This rarely happened to him, his sleep was seldom interrupted by his bladder. Truthfully, he saw that more as a problem, it was always easier to relieve himself when everyone around him was asleep and unaware. Since he usually slept through a full bladder, the morning would consist of him awkwardly awaiting a chance to go, fighting not to alert anyone to how much he was anticipating a moment of privacy. So, when he DID manage to wake up in need of a pee, instead of his customary irritation, he felt relieved. If he went now, he wouldn’t be bursting too badly when the sun rose… He WAS bursting pretty badly now, however. Embarrassing as it was, even HE was not immune to the suggestions and temptations of the dream he’d just had. It had been a memory of Namek. Specifically, the very first moment he’d felt the sensation of boiling acid erupting upwards into his kidneys. 

Except, in the dream, there had been an additional element; Frieza had been present to watch. He was immensely glad that, in reality, Frieza had never once been able to catch Vegeta whilst he was suffering such an immense crisis of need, but dreams had a way of bringing to life the things he’d most dreaded. Frieza had floated above him, watching as Vegeta tried and failed to get his stream started. When the pain erupted and Vegeta yelled from the shock that a mundane biological urge could POSSIBLY hurt him that badly, Frieza started to chuckle. “So, the stupid monkey isn’t even able to relieve himself, is he? What was it you were trying to convince me of earlier? That you’re some sort of a Super Saiyan…? I can’t say I believe that now.” 

Frieza landed behind Vegeta, whom turned around, gritting his teeth and readying his fists. He would destroy Frieza for EVERYTHING he’d put him through, and ESPECIALLY for seeing him this way! But Frieza shook his head. “You know? I don’t even think fighting you would be worth my time. Seems you’re doing a fine job of defeating YOURSELF, wouldn’t you agree? I’d just get in the way.” That was when Vegeta had finally woken up, his back screeching with the same pain he’d felt in his dream. He tried to ignore the memory of it, it hadn’t even actually HAPPENED, so it did him no good to dwell on it. He WAS a Super Saiyan, in spite of his problem (Sort of… because of it, actually. He just didn’t like to THINK about that part.) He looked to his side and confirmed that Bulma was still asleep. It was safe to pee now. He climbed out of bed, trying not to make any noise when the insurmountable weight of his bladder pushed itself fervently against his sphincters. Why was it so intense?! Right… He hadn’t gone before bed. He hadn’t FORGOTTEN to, but he’d been waiting for Bulma to fall asleep first and he must have passed out before he was able to hear her snore. He smirked to himself, thinking that if he wasn’t so ashamed of his problem, he might TELL Bulma that her snoring was the ‘green light’ for his nightly piss. He was sure her reaction to the news that she made such noises would be priceless. He made it to the restroom and locked the door behind himself. He had to be very careful as he did this, Earth locks were so fragile that he’d accidentally broken a couple in the past from turning them too quickly. The one time he’d broken the lock on this particular door, the sudden rush of panic that flowed through his veins had been so cold he’d actually shivered. He relaxed when he heard the lock click without shattering. He lifted the seat on the toilet and readied himself to go. During his first few days at Capsule Corp, Bulma had actually commented to him that she was STUNNED he remembered to move the seat up and down when he used the restroom, and even more surprised that he actually bothered to DO it. “Haven’t seen it left up even once! So, I guess you DO have some manners. Before you know it, you might even be civilized!” Vegeta had refused to admit that the only reason he always made sure the seat was down was because he wanted there to be NO signs that he’d ever pissed before in his life. His bladder unclenched easily, he’d gotten used to peeing here and so long as Bulma was somewhere else or asleep, he didn’t struggle. Pressure ebbed away slowly as he relaxed further. Bulma had also once mentioned that she appreciated how he’d never left anything splashed on the rim of the bowl. But, this was thanks to another of his habits, he didn’t let himself pee directly into the water. That noise was just too obvious. Not hitting the water left less opportunity for splashback. He still worried that his stream was too loud. This was probably the only time Vegeta ever cared about being quiet. The hiss of urine gushing out was just such an embarrassing noise, such a blatant, unmistakable one… *** Bulma’s eyes slowly drifted open. Groaning, she realized she had to pee, and the urge was too significant for her to turn over and go back to sleep. Begrudgingly, she got up and approached the restroom door, but noticed the glow of light seeping out from beneath it. Oh. So then, Vegeta was… Ever since Vegeta had confessed his problem to her, she’d mostly just been amused by it. She couldn’t help it. It just… It WAS funny. This strong, tough, take-no-prisoners man struggling with something so simple. She came to sort of understand it a little bit more as she got to know him better, Vegeta was much more sensitive than he let on. In all the years they’d been together, Bulma still hadn’t ONCE seen Vegeta go into the restroom. She’d seen him NEEDING to pee plenty of times. He probably thought he was being subtle about it, but when he could tap his foot hard enough to leave a crack in the floor, subtlety just wasn’t possible. She still wasn’t entirely sure when he actually WENT… Apparently he only did it at night? She could hear him peeing through the door and it was making her own urge worsen. She tried not to listen to it. She was sure he wouldn’t WANT her to listen to it. She even considered going back to bed and pretending that she was asleep so that he wouldn’t see her by the door when he finished. But, if she went back to bed, she may fall asleep again without relieving herself and that could end badly. Besides, Vegeta needed to get OVER this whole thing. After he’d gone within earshot of her once, he’d see that it was no big deal. The sound of trickling liquid carried on in the other room and Bulma shifted on her feet. ‘How much can he possibly pee?’ She asked herself. She assumed Saiyans could hold more than humans, but she’d been waiting for at least an entire minute now, and Vegeta’s stream had only grown more intense. Considering that she didn’t know how long he’d been going before she’d woken up, it was actually freaking her out a little. No matter how strong he was, his bladder still had to fit INSIDE of his body, right? It had a limited amount of room in there. He was probably doing some kind of internal damage. She imagined having to get a senzu bean for him after he’d managed to explode his bladder. SHE’D have to go ask for it because he’d be too ashamed to admit that his life-threatening injury hadn’t been gained in battle. She heard him breathing a little heavily as his stream slowed down, and her own bladder went a little loose. Surely he was nearly finishe— The furious typhoon resumed. He wasn’t done. How was that even possible? Without thinking, Bulma spoke “That’s so much—Are you okay?!” Abruptly, like a bathtub being switched off, all the watery noises of Vegeta’s relief ceased. The only thing that remained was a heavy silence. Bulma closed her mouth. She… Probably shouldn’t have said that… The door slammed open so fast that it made Bulma stumble. With some concern, her gaze darted to the hinge, making sure he hadn’t just broken the thing entirely. It seemed to be intact. Vegeta said nothing as he passed her, simply returned to the bed and laid down, facing away from her. “Okay, calm down,” Bulma said. “So, I heard you peeing. That’s not the end of the—“ “SILENCE.” “Everyone DOES it,” Bulma said. “Fine, you can listen to ME pee. I don’t care!” Vegeta covered his ears as Bulma entered the restroom. On what planet was THIS a solution? She’d just caused him to stop mid-stream (which had felt like having his urethra pinched shut by someone ten times stronger than him) and now she wanted him to LISTEN while she did what he couldn’t? He hadn’t gotten to finish! He still needed to go! The LAST thing he wanted to hear was— He couldn’t turn off his ears, and Saiyan hearing was better than most. He heard every last gush, every last drip, every last hiss as Bulma urinated. His bladder thrashed inside of him, kicking in all directions. He was just glad he’d been able to get enough out to erase the back pain, but he KNEW it would be returning soon. Bulma was done in under a minute, and Vegeta was surprised. He wasn’t used to it being over that fast. He endured the rush of the sink faucet for a few more seconds, and still refused to turn around when Bulma got back into bed. “Are you really gonna sulk all night just because I heard you pee?” It wasn’t even JUST that she’d heard him, or that she’d known he was voiding. It was the specific thing she’d SAID about it, and the tone her voice had taken on. She’d sounded actually WORRIED. Worried about him because of— Of THAT. It was hard enough for him to accept someone’s concern after he’d had multiple bones broken! She knew that he held in a lot, more than anyone else could. But, where he usually felt PRIDE over being the ‘best’ at something, in this case it was nothing but shame. It was an embarrassing function, so it wasn’t like he’d enjoy showing off this ability to anyone. And he couldn’t even be THAT impressed with it himself anymore because the only reason he could DO it was because he COULDN’T relieve himself like others did. That was the crux of it. The amount of piss Vegeta could hold, the size and strength of his bladder, was not because he was MORE capable than others, it was because he LACKED an ability which they all possessed and took for granted. This may have begun as a test and show of his strength, but it had mutated into something completely different. It had become something that he wasn’t powerful enough to control, and he couldn’t STAND it. His bladder was strong as the result of a very shameful weakness. Bulma huffed when she failed to get a response from him. “You’re really over-reacting, you know that? I wasn’t trying to embarrass you. And now that you’ve peed around me once, you should be able to do it again.” The very idea of subjecting himself to that degree of humiliation AGAIN was horrifying. He tried to come up with something to even say to her, but his insides were twisting and knotting so painfully that he couldn’t think. His bladder was INFURIATED that he hadn’t finished releasing it. Usually, once he got himself truly STARTED, he didn’t stop peeing until he was DONE. Bulma commenting on his stream had been MORE than enough to shove a plug back inside him. He didn’t think he was over-reacting. He’d TOLD Bulma what his problem was, she should have known not to listen, not to comment. She should have expected this. He was just so uncomfortable, still so full, so ashamed. If he managed to fall back asleep, he was sure his earlier dream would resume. The imaginary Frieza would taunt him, call him pathetic, say all the things that… That Vegeta thought himself whenever he dwelled on his problem for too long. He wanted to finish peeing, he wanted Bulma to just go back to bed, he wanted her to forget all about this by morning. The most infuriating thing of all was that he also sort of wanted Kakarot here. He had no idea how it was even possible, but Kakarot seemed to understand Vegeta’s problem really well. And he didn’t think it was just because Kakarot had experienced a glimpse of it when they’d been fused. Kakarot had ended up admitting that he’d spent ages studying Vegeta’s posture and mannerisms, all so he could discreetly convince other people to leave him alone when he needed to go. And he did it WITHOUT ever revealing the truth. How was it that the man with absolutely no comprehension of the word ‘shame’ was also the person most capable of grasping Vegeta’s trouble? Vegeta had tried to understand things like Bulma’s worries about her face wrinkling, and he’d been incapable of comprehending why it upset her so much. Saiyans aged more slowly than humans, so that was something he couldn’t imagine being concerned about any time soon. Kakarot was somehow able to picture how others were feeling, even if HE didn’t feel the same way himself. How unusual. Vegeta thought the closest he’d ever gotten to that was when Trunks was four and badly skinned his knee. Vegeta had intended to yell at the boy to just get back up, that the blood of Saiyans ran through him, that such a small injury should have been meaningless! But, for some strange reason, when Trunks started to cry, Vegeta felt like he was the one that had been hurt. “Vegeta,” Bulma said once more. “You are NOT giving me the silent treatment over THIS. We’re not playing this game. You are behaving like a—“ “Not discussing this,” Vegeta said. His bladder still hadn’t settled down, he’d had no idea how painful stopping mid-flow really was. It felt like some of his liquid was still trapped inside his shaft, unable to make it just that little bit further. “If you ever bring it up again—“ “You’re right. There’s nothing TO discuss. It’s done now, it’s over, you can move on.” Vegeta was hit by a sharp rippling pang and needed to tense his thighs, legs fidgeting in a way that was absolutely humiliating. “Go back to sleep.” “Might take a whi—“ “Now,” Vegeta interrupted. He needed to finish what he’d started, the throbs now actually managed to feel WORSE than the ones he’d been enduring before he’d let out anything at all! Bulma raised her eyebrows, “That’s not something you can just ORDER someone to do, you can’t control it.” Vegeta squeezed his eyes closed. He hated not being able to control something, and he could control the behavior of his bladder least of all. His urethral opening stung, liquid pushing against his sphincters with so much force that he— He suddenly got up and hastily went to the bedroom door, about to fling it open. Maybe one of the other restrooms in the building didn’t have any people near it. He needed to get the remainder of his piss out NOW, he couldn’t risk leaking ever again, especially not with Bulma there. Bulma had caught up to him though. “Vegeta, no!” She snapped. “This is complete nonsense, you’re gonna leave me for the night over—“ “I h—have to—“ “You don’t,” Bulma gripped his arm. He could VERY easily break free, but he felt so out of control at the moment that he didn’t trust himself not to accidentally toss her just trying to make her let go. Why did humans have to be so fragile? “Let’s just go to bed, and in the morning we’ll see if you’re ready to—“ “No, I need—“ “Listen to me, WHATEVER you’re worried about, I’m—“ “I didn’t get to finish,” Vegeta interrupted. “… Huh?” Bulma asked, genuinely confused. “You didn’t finish what?” “I didn’t… Finish… I didn’t…” Vegeta stammered, fumbling over his words. Pee still sloshed inside him, throbbing and aching to come out. He just… He couldn’t say it. Not in the way he’d been about to, anyway. He started over, closing his eyes firmly against the humiliation, and deliberately speaking as though his bladder were an entirely separate entity that didn’t actually have any relation to him. “You spoke, which made it stop working.” “You’re not making any—“ Bulma paused, remembering how abruptly Vegeta’s stream had shut off. “Oh. You mean you still have to…” She trailed off. How in the world had he let out ALL that and still not been emptied? “Well, go finish then.” Vegeta reached for the door again, but was stopped once more. “The toilet in here still works, you kn—“ Vegeta sighed heavily. He loved Bulma, but she could certainly be infuriating sometimes. “Did you manage to forget my… ‘thing’ during the last thirty seconds?” “No, but now that I’ve heard it once, you SHOULD have realized it’s no big deal,” Bulma said. “I’m not… Judging you for peeing, or whatever it is you’re so afraid of.” “Th—That’s— No— That isn’t— That’s not how it works!” With Bulma blocking the exit, Vegeta started to pace. The pressure inside him kept moving lower and lower, heat building at his tip. The rest of him felt icy cold. To have Bulma see him this way was an agony he hadn’t even known existed. “It’s not like I’m following you in there—“ What WAS this feeling?! It was a lot like the annoying, stupid, twitchy thing he got in his chest sometimes, the thing he refused to name. But, NOW it wasn’t just in his chest, it was everywhere! And— And now his chest felt— Tight, like when he was in the gravity chamber and he needed time to adjust so that he didn’t feel like he was getting crushed. Except, this was just normal Earth gravity, where he usually felt so light. In spite of that, the squeezing was just getting worse, heavier, more constricting. Frieza had made him feel this way, nothing else was supposed to do it, THIS was not supposed to do it— “Vegeta…?” Bulma sounded like she wanted a response, but he couldn’t get any words out past the cold clenching in his chest. Bulma was STARING at him now, and it was getting worse! How could it KEEP getting worse!? “Wait, are you actually…?“ What? Was he actually WHAT? She didn’t finish! The frigid ice working its way down to his bone marrow, he frantically looked down, the relief he felt when he saw that he HADN’T begun to void right there in front of her was only outmatched by the relief when she took his hands and started to squeeze them. Not painfully, but likely as hard as she could actually manage. Slowly, as he focused on that, the cold twitches and awful squeezing went away. “Okay…” Bulma said when his breathing had gone back to normal. “I did… NOT expect that. I think I understand a little more now, though.” Well. That made ONE of them, anyway. Vegeta had no clue what had just happened. That was only the second time in his life he’d felt THAT, and the first time had been when Frieza had confronted him on Namek— At least then it had been a little justifiable to freak out. As the dizziness cleared, his urge to pee became the most prominent thing on his mind again. He still had to get Bulma to let him— “You know, I THOUGHT this was all just you being too proud to make yourself go around other people and working yourself up over it, but… It’s more than that, isn’t it? This gives you anxiety..." “O—Of course not!” Vegeta said. “I don’t have such feelings, I don’t fear anything, I—“ “You JUST had a panic attack…” Bulma said. “Does that happen often?” “No, it’s never happened,” Vegeta huffed, starting to shift between his feet. Couldn’t she do this when he didn’t have to go? “And that wasn’t a… What did you call it? A panic attack? Saiyans don’t have those. That’s something earthlings invented.” Bulma looked him over again, noting his swaying and tension. An argument with Vegeta could last for ages, and this one had clearly gone on long enough for his bladder. She knew he would definitely keep fighting, refusing to cede, no matter how desperate he got. She knew there was no way she’d get him to say the words “Yes, you’re right. This must be anxiety that I’m feeling, and it made me have a panic attack” even if they kept this up for the rest of the night. She wanted to go back to sleep, Vegeta wanted to finish peeing (Even if it was causing him physical pain to admit that), it was time to stop. “Alright, fine. You didn’t have a panic attack,” she sighed. “Do you want me to wait out in the hall?” Vegeta didn’t speak, but managed to nod. He couldn’t believe he’d allowed Bulma to witness something so utterly pathetic. He’d give anything to go back in time and prevent himself from falling asleep before he’d urinated. All of this could have been avoided if he’d just stayed awake! Once Bulma had left, he returned to the restroom. He gently locked the door again and stood in front of the toilet. His heart was still pounding oddly, and even now that he was finally alone and in the right spot, the twitchy feeling remained, his bladder wouldn’t unclench. He was just so overcome by the humiliation of the last half hour that he couldn’t relax. Groaning, he almost slapped his hand against the wall, before remembering how mad Bulma had been the LAST time he’d put a hole in one. At least, it sounded like Bulma was TRYING to understand. Even if she was WAY off the mark. Vegeta NEVER felt ‘anxious’, the awful tingles that rushed through him when something… Bothered him were caused by something else. Something which didn’t deserve to be labelled as anything, because he shouldn’t have HAD those feelings at all. If he just kept them unnamed, if he kept pretending they didn’t exist, one day they’d go away. They’d realize he wanted no part of them, that they were beneath him, and they’d vanish. He wished all the pee still locked in his bladder would vanish too. But, it wouldn’t. The feelings wouldn’t, either. The longer it took him to start urinating, the worse the feelings got. Heavier and heavier, and when he thought about what Bulma must have been thinking, they started to SQUEEZE him again. Once more, he begrudgingly wished that Kakarot were there. Loathe as he was to admit it, Kakarot DID just know what to do in these situations. He shuddered, realizing that if this kept up, he might end up RELYING on Kakarot for something— Something that was both vital and VERY embarrassing. To his shame, and in a last ditch effort to get something out, he tried to IMAGINE that Kakarot was there. Sometimes, when Kakarot stood near him so he could release, he’d… Say things. Stupid… Encouraging things that made Vegeta’s face HURT from how hard he blushed. Nonsense like“You can do it!” And “You’re way stronger than your bladder!” Utterly humiliating to listen to… And the worst thing about it was that it WORKED. Hearing those things actually made it easier for him to go. So now, he forced himself to pretend Kakarot was nearby, repeating those ridiculous statements that, for some maddening reason, helped Vegeta relieve himself. At last, his stream resumed, and this time he was able to get every remaining drop out. The relief was incredible, but he struggled to fully enjoy it. He could NEVER let Bulma witness that sort of thing again. When he was finished, he was beginning to consider gathering the dragon balls and asking the dragon to wipe Bulma’s memory of everything that had transpired tonight. The dragon… There was a thought… Vegeta’s problem was the most shameful thing in his world, but if the problem was suddenly GONE… He reluctantly went back to the bedroom door and mumbled that she could come back in now. The look on her face was irritatingly sympathetic, and when they laid back down in bed, he faced away from her again.

Guess I'm continuing this after all. This chapter's mostly focused on Gohan, since I had some headcanons for him as well, and realized he'd be able to figure out Vegeta's problem pretty easily if he thought about it for long enough. *** The thing about being put through tons of rigid, harsh, intense training starting from the age of four is that it tends to instill a lot of habits that are tough to break. It’s hard to go back to ‘normal’ when ‘normal’ has always been synonymous with strict schedules and constantly being pushed beyond the limit. After the defeat of Cell, when Gohan was told he was finally going to get to live as a regular kid, at least for a bit, it took him ages to adjust to a lot of things. His sleeping pattern was completely messed up. When he was four and Piccolo had left him to fend for himself in the desert, the night was always more dangerous than the day. For a time, he was more-or-less nocturnal. He rested when the sun was out and there was less chance of something sneaking up on him in the dark. He hunted at night. Then, when Piccolo returned and started to actually train him, Gohan was only permitted to enjoy the bare minimum of sleep required to keep him functioning. Every other moment had to be put towards preparing for the saiyans. Namek had messed with his internal clock as well. It was a planet with three suns, and a ‘day’ was far longer there than it was on Earth. When he did sleep, it was never restful, not with Frieza and his army around. Then, preparing for the androids, it was back to constantly training with Dad, and Gohan’s ‘free’ time was being taken up by doing school work for Mom. Hardly any time for sleep. Follow that with a year in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, where day and night were indistinguishable from one another, and Gohan really just never learned how to put his body to sleep at the proper times. After Cell’s death, it took him months to be able to go to bed before three in the morning or wake up before two in the afternoon. His Mom, at least, was understanding of that. Though, she believed his broken sleep schedule was more due to a barrage of nightmares than anything else. She was even grateful for his odd hours when it meant that he was willing to stay up with baby Goten when he got fussy. Gohan was still getting all of his schoolwork done, so it was fine. The other habit that Gohan struggled to break was a bigger problem to Mom, though. When Piccolo had been training Gohan, a major issue arose in the fact that Gohan needed to take short ‘breaks’ an awful lot. He was little, and he’d spent months alone in the desert, relieving himself whenever he pleased so long as he was sure that the smell wouldn’t attract any wild beasts. He got used to not having to hold it. Very often, Gohan would start to wriggle and whine, telling Piccolo that he needed to pee and couldn’t wait. Piccolo would always TELL him to wait, though. “Rest-time is later,” he’d say. “We can’t waste a second now.” Inevitably, Gohan’s fighting ability would deplete since he could do little more than cross his legs and jump up and down. Not long after, he’d wet his clothes and have to struggle not to cry with embarrassment. Piccolo would always scold him afterwards, tell him that he needed to toughen up every part of his body. But then, after a while, Piccolo saw that everything else about Gohan was definitely getting MUCH stronger. His punches were more powerful, he was a lot faster, he could fire chi blasts with ease… But, he was still peeing himself as often as he had at the beginning. One night when they were resting, Piccolo decided to speak to him about it. “It appears I may have made a mistake.” Gohan frowned and tensed up. “Am I not doing good enough?” He asked fearfully. “No,” Piccolo said. “You’re progressing as I expected… For the most part. I think I was just wrong about something. The issue with you always… Releasing water onto yourself.” Gohan blushed and looked away. “I always try not to! I promise!” “I know,” Piccolo assured him. “See, I don’t let out water like you do.” “I’ll be able to hold it like you eventua—“ “Not what I meant,” Piccolo interrupted. “I meant, I don’t do it at all. I never have.” “Oh…” Gohan said. That made sense, he supposed. He didn’t know what exactly Piccolo was, but he clearly wasn’t a human. He’d also never seen Piccolo urinate or display any need to do so, but had assumed that meant he was just really good at holding it in. “I think my wiener would fall off if I didn’t pee…” Piccolo sighed. “I don’t have a ‘wiener’.” “… Is that why you’re always so mad?” “Gohan…” Piccolo groaned. “Look, I thought that with enough training, you would cease needing to release water. Or at least, you’d need it less frequently. However, with how much stronger the rest of your body has gotten… Does it cause you discomfort? Distraction?” Gohan nodded. “It hurts if I wait too long, and then I can’t think about anything else.” “Is that why you start jumping around so much?” “Yeah…” “Alright,” Piccolo decided. “Since it seems this is hindering your training, I’ll give you a short break every few hours.” Gohan felt immensely better after that. He was pleased to learn that Piccolo hadn’t been forcing him to have accidents in order to hurt him or make him feel ashamed, and instead had just misunderstood things about the biology of a different species. Now, he was permitted to relieve himself every six hours. However, Gohan had still just been a kid. Being half-saiyan meant his bladder was a LITTLE bigger than most kids his age, but six hours was still a LONG time to wait. Usually, he only barely made it. Sometimes, he had an accident. Piccolo kept needing to adjust the schedule until he hit upon the exact length of time Gohan could handle holding it before he popped. Gohan knew enough about biology to understand that waiting until his limit wasn’t very good for him, but at least now he was usually making it, and Piccolo was unwilling to give him breaks more often than that. So, for months, the boy held his bladder until the second Piccolo said the words; “Break-time. Relieve yourself, Gohan.” And he didn’t realize that this had instilled a bad habit into him until later. While riding the space-ship to Namek, Gohan spent most of his time with Dad’s old friend Krillin. The very first day of the voyage, Krillin noticed Gohan starting to fidget on the floor with a deeply uncomfortable look on his face. When he heard Gohan whimper, he spoke up; “Uhhh, you know, there’s a toilet that way…” he pointed off. “Huh?” Gohan looked up, confused for a second until the words finished processing. “Oh! Yeah!” He stood and very frantically ran off. Krillin overheard him as he went, and was a little concerned by how long he was peeing for. When Gohan came back, Krillin told him, “Try not to hold it like that. Do you have any idea what your Mom will do to me if you hurt your bladder?” He tried to laugh, but when he saw Gohan nibbling at his lip, he added; “Oh, uh, if you’re shy, you can just say so. Bulma and I can cover our ears while you—“ “Not shy,” Gohan said. In actuality, he just sort of… Hadn’t noticed that he needed to pee until he heard someone TELL him to. That was really weird… Later, Gohan was able to recognize his urge on his own, but for some reason felt compelled to ask Krillin for permission first. He ignored the odd thought and just went to the toilet, but when he tried to use it, nothing happened. Even more confused, he just went back out and sat with Krillin again, until the bald man noticed him fidgeting once more. “Gohan, remember earlier? Make sure you use the toilet when you need to.” As soon as Krillin had TOLD him to pee, Gohan had to RUN so that he’d make it in time. This kept up for the entirety of the trip. Sometimes, Gohan didn’t notice his bladder was full until Krillin or Bulma directed him to use the restroom. Other times, he noticed it first, but was unable to pee unless he first requested permission. He didn’t understand what was happening, and he hoped this issue would go away soon. It didn’t. On Namek, he still had to HEAR someone say the words “Gohan, time to relieve yourself” or some equivalent of that. When he found himself desperate and alone at Guru’s place, it was difficult for him to explain to the old Namekian what he needed him to say. Worse yet, the more stressed out he became by the situation on Namek, the more fearful he felt of Vegeta, the more terrified he was of Frieza, the more he wished his Dad would hurry up and get there… The more often he NEEDED to pee. And, if he wasn’t near someone he trusted enough to ask permission from, he was stuck holding it. Later, when Dad was helping him get ready for the androids, yet MORE fears being loaded onto his back, Gohan had to pee nearly every hour. The only upside was that, since it was DAD he was training with, he always gave permission the second Gohan requested it. Dad didn’t seem to understand very well though. “You know son, you don’t NEED to ask me every time. If you say you’re leaving for a second, I’ll know what you’re doing.” Gohan tried that a couple times, but the issue persisted. It kept up during the year in the Time Chamber, too. And there, Dad was a lot tougher on him than usual, so determined to make him into a Super Saiyan. Fighting was non-stop in the chamber, and Gohan was so scared about what may have been happening outside that his bladder filled at a ridiculous pace. He was terrified that something bad would happen to Piccolo, to Krillin, to all his friends… He had one accident during that year, the first and only time Dad told him to wait. “Not right now, son. I think you’re nearly THERE, you can pee when you’re a Super Saiyan!” Minutes later, Gohan was drenched and Dad was apologizing over and over. After the Cell Game, when Gohan was promised that he could finally be a ‘regular’ kid, his peeing habits were as tough to break as his sleeping ones. Tougher, even. While Mom could understand why a teenager who’d spent his entire childhood fighting and watching his friends and family get attacked would have trouble getting a full night’s sleep, she couldn’t grasp the peeing thing at all. The first time she walked into his room to see how his studies were going, and found him jiggling around at his desk, clutching himself and obviously close to an accident, she’d yelled at him. “Gohan! I spend enough time changing GOTEN’S diapers, go to the toilet!” Gohan jumped, startled, then registered the enormous pressure in his bladder, felt some of it jostle loose and warm his clothes… “Ah— Okay!” He rushed off, making it without even one second to spare. Later that day, Gohan came up to Mom shifting between his feet with wide eyes. “M—Mom, may I please go to the restroom?” And Mom had just stared at him. “Why are you asking me that?” Gohan ran a hand through his hair anxiously. “I— I just— I need to hear someone say it…” “Why?” “Mom, please?” Gohan was really begging now, jumping in place, legs crossing. “Hurry!” Mom sighed, “Yes, Gohan. You are allowed to use the restroom.” “Oh, thank you!” Gohan cried, breathless as he ran off. Over the next few years, Mom didn’t come to understand it any better, but just had to accept that she either told Gohan “Yes, go to the toilet now,” or she risked him making a puddle. She finally DID figure out that he genuinely NEEDED to hear those words eventually, when she found him standing in the restroom late one night, jiggling and twisting and muttering the words “Break-time. Relieve yourself, Gohan,” over and over to himself while he failed to urinate. “Gohan, pee,” Mom said nervously. And, immediately, he did, panting with relief. Mom left him, wishing she could figure out what was going on with her son, why he was so distressed… Other times, Mom would still find Gohan squirming and holding himself, seemingly unaware of the fact that his bladder was full until she SAID something. “If only Goku were here,” Gohan overheard her telling Grandpa one day. “Maybe HE knows why Gohan’s acting this way.” Much later, Gohan started high school in the city. His habit still hadn’t been broken. It didn’t matter WHO told him to pee, but he needed to hear it from SOMEONE before he could go. Goten had been filling that role most often lately. The boy thought his older brother’s gotta-pee dances were really funny. He enjoyed teasing Gohan about them, telling him to ask permission with silly phrases. As far as Goten was concerned, it was just a game. He didn’t realize Gohan NEEDED to be granted permission before he could pee. Gohan was happy to amuse him, luckily Goten had never taken it too far, had never REFUSED him permission and tried to make him hold it. Granted, Gohan didn’t think the boy had realized he COULD do that yet. At first, it was easy to manage his bladder at school. Since it was customary to request permission to use the toilet there, no one looked at him oddly when he did it. The only thing that really tripped him up was his whole issue of sometimes getting too engrossed in something and not noticing his urge until someone else pointed it out. There were a couple embarrassing instances where that happened. The worst being when he was hard at work on a test, tapping his foot and bouncing his knee until the blonde girl sitting beside him whispered; “Are you gonna pee your pants?” Immediately, a severe urge slammed into him and he frantically waved his hand around until he was told he was free to go. But, after a while, Gohan made a very crucial error. He’d started to fight crime in the city, concealing his identity with a costume and calling himself the Great Saiyaman. Sometimes, he left during class to handle a situation, and the easiest way to get out of class was to say that he was going to the restroom. He didn’t realize how often he was doing this, or how long he ended up disappearing for, until one day his teacher told him that he couldn’t leave. “The last four times I let you go, you didn’t come back for hours. You’re not skipping my class anymore.” Gohan sank in his chair, ashamed of himself. He knew school was important, but the things he did as the Great Saiyaman were really important too. What concerned him most was how that girl Videl WAS able to leave class to go after criminals. It was only because her father was Hercule Satan, the man everyone believed had defeated Cell. Gohan worried about Videl a lot when she left and he couldn’t follow. And when he got nervous, his bladder got full… The first time Videl departed and he was left there to fret, his anxiety seemed to send his kidneys straight into over drive. Within minutes, he was tensing his thighs and dragging his feet against the ground, crossing his ankles back and forth. The need grew at an alarming pace, causing him to go from ‘I’m fine and don’t need the bathroom at all’ to ‘I think I’m going to wet my pants!’ In under ten minutes. After a sudden shockwave of a spasm tore through him, his hand shot up. And, he discovered that using ‘I need to pee’ as an excuse to leave school too many times had a very dire consequence. He hadn’t even made the connection until that moment. When the new rule had been explained to him, all he’d thought was ‘I can’t help Videl anymore’. He hadn’t even considered ‘Now they aren’t gonna let me leave when I really DO have to pee.’ But of course, when he asked to be excused, the answer was no. He tried not to get upset. He knew this was his own fault. If he hadn’t skipped class so many times, he would be allowed to relieve himself now. He was lucky that school ended in an hour. The next sixty minutes still passed by at a sluggishly slow pace. He couldn’t focus on anything, the mounting pressure in his bladder just refused to leave him alone. His feet were tapping, and it was difficult not to reach down and squeeze himself. When class finally ended, he was the first one out of his seat. He’d been warned by all of his friends not to let his classmates get a glimpse of his powers. He’d messed that up a few times already, especially in front of Videl, and he was trying not to make another mistake now. Still, the intense pangs of need in his midsection were screaming at him that he shouldn’t be walking at such a slow pace. He should instead tap into his true speed, run to the bathroom so quickly that the average person’s eye wouldn’t even be able to see him. Once he saw the sign for the restroom, he couldn’t help it anymore, he sprinted the last few feet towards it and shoved open the door. His urge felt near-critical, the intensity of the pressure reminding him of all the times he’d frantically hopped up and down in front of Piccolo, struggling to make the Namekian understand that he NEEDED to let his bladder release. Gohan got to a urinal and unzipped his pants, but then he ran into a different problem. No one had actually TOLD him that it was time to pee yet. His body thought that it was time, HE thought that it was time, but without hearing the order, his bladder wouldn’t ease. His body was just too well-trained, it only responded to certain commands. Bearing down, he started to mumble the phrase Piccolo had always used, “Break-time. Relieve yourself, Gohan…” But, as ever, it didn’t work when HE was the one saying it. He thought about going BACK to the classroom. Hopefully, his teacher would still be there. He could say “Hey, since school’s over, I CAN go to the bathroom now, right?” He knew the question would sound odd, but hopefully he’d get to hear the words his body needed. Leaving the restroom without actually using it made Gohan’s bladder ripple with irritation. That frustrated him a lot. The bloated organ COULD have chosen to drain at any point while he’d still been at the urinal. He re-entered his classroom, and his hopes sank when he found it was empty. His teacher couldn’t grant him permission, and he desperately needed SOMEONE to do it. Not all of his classmates had left yet, he didn’t think. Surely several of them would be going to sports practices, or just hanging out around the school. He could maybe ask one of them… Yeah. He was still fairly new here. He could just pretend that he’d gotten turned around and couldn’t FIND a restroom. He wandered the halls for a bit, his bladder knotting and contorting within him. He kept needing to pause in order to squeeze his thighs together or scissor his legs. He just didn’t see anyone… Finally, he accepted that he was wasting his time. When he got home, Goten would see him in what was sure to be an agonizingly desperate state and giggle at him. Then he’d tap his chin. “Ummmm…. Say ‘Goten, I hafta tinkle real bad!’ Then I’ll let you pee!” Gohan would repeat the phrase, or whatever embarrassing statement Goten had come up with. He’d blush, but be relieved that someone had finally told him it was okay to go. He definitely couldn’t FLY home this way. Flight took a lot of concentration, and most of his mental energy had to go towards holding his bladder in and not letting it leak. The Nimbus would get him home pretty fast, but not as quickly as flying. Perhaps he could stop somewhere along the way? The only place he could think of between here and home was Capsule Corp. He’d be okay with asking Bulma or Trunks if he could please use the toilet there. But, if he ran into Vegeta instead… Gohan had never ONCE gone to Vegeta for permission. He ALWAYS went to someone else— Anyone else! On the rare occasions he’d been alone with Vegeta and had badly needed to pee, he’d refused to ask— He’d HELD it. He knew Vegeta would probably make him do something first, like beg or grovel. Or something even more ridiculous, like defeat him in combat… He also just KNEW that if Vegeta found out Gohan couldn’t urinate until he was directly TOLD to do so, the older Saiyan would find it hysterical. “Kakarot’s brat could kill Cell, but can’t even piss without being given directions first.” Gohan didn’t want to subject himself to that. He’d learned to live with Vegeta’s taunts about other things, but THIS topic was just so personal and embarrassing. He’d go home. He’d try to hold it in. And, if he started to lose control, he’d… Unzip and pee over the edge of the Flying Nimbus. Just. So long as he wasn’t above an area with lots of people at the time. He called to the Nimbus and when it arrived, he climbed on. “T—Take me home,” he told it. “As fast as you can.” The cloud took off, speeding through the sky. Still nowhere near as fast as Gohan could fly when he was uninhibited. He wriggled where he sat, pushing a foot firmly into his crotch and rocking against it. He’d been holding it so long already, the cold wind in his face wasn’t helping! The chill was making him shiver which, in turn, made the walls of his bloated bladder contract and try even harder to pump out his pee. He wanted to warm up, but when he felt heat soaking out between his legs he was filled with nothing but horror. It was coming out! He was gonna have to— He reached for his zipper, his hand trembled, spasmed, then stopped. He couldn’t make himself pee off of a flying cloud. Even if he didn’t accidentally HIT someone, a person could look up, see him doing it… He flushed hot with embarrassment. What if someone at school found out? What if MOM found out?! She’d scold him for so long that his ears would go numb… “A—Actually, Nimbus… Um… Take me to Capsule Corp, it’s closer.” As the cloud swiftly turned in a new direction, Gohan hoped that BULMA would be the first person he found there. Trunks would be fine, too. Either of Bulma’s parents, any of the employees, just ANYONE but— Of course, when he frantically bobbed and hobbled into Capsule Corp, the first person he encountered when he entered the Brief’s living area was Vegeta… WHY did he have to come by during what was probably the ONLY part of the day Vegeta WASN’T in the gravity chamber?! Vegeta looked tense, which was normal. What wasn’t normal was the small tremor in one of his legs as he stalked over to Gohan. “Don’t you ever warn anyone before you show up at their home?” “V—Vegeta… This is… Um… M—May I use the restroom?” Gohan asked. ‘Please say yes,’ he begged. ‘Please just say yes…’ Vegeta’s frown somehow managed to deepen, his shoulders twitching. “Why would you ask me that?” He demanded. The amount of frustration in his voice sounded VERY unnecessary to Gohan. But, he could say the same thing MOST times Vegeta spoke. “B—Because you’re the only one here…” Vegeta glowered at him. Even though Gohan was taller than him now, he still managed to always look intimidating. There was something WEIRD about his eyes, though. Something in them that Gohan didn’t see very often… “But, why— Wait. Did Kakarot ever… Tell you anything ‘strange’ about me?” Gohan crossed his legs and stared down at himself. He swore his middle actually looked kind of swollen… He was going to burst! If Vegeta wanted to complain about Dad again, couldn’t he wait until later? Gohan didn’t even know what he expected to hear! What would Dad have even SAID? “What?” Gohan asked. “Vegeta, I know it’s weird, but I can’t go unless you—“ “Answer the question,” Vegeta commanded. “Did Kakarot ever mention… Something about me?” Gohan wanted to scream. He was getting genuinely angry, and he knew he had to push that aside. When he got mad, he tended to lose control, his power spiked to tremendous levels, and he was POSITIVE that transforming into a Super Saiyan now would put too much strain on his body and cause him to have an accident. “He mentioned LOTS of things about you, Vegeta. Of course he did, he spent so much time with—“ “I meant—“ Vegeta’s voice hitched, confusing Gohan more than ever. “Anything… Related to…” He trailed off, that strange quality returning to his eyes, his frown pulling further downwards. Gohan thought about it, and assumed Vegeta had been trying to say “Anything related to peeing.” Dad had never said one word to Gohan about Vegeta pissing. Why WOULD he? Vegeta seemed awful nervous for some reason though, so he figured something embarrassing must have happened. “He never told me anything,” Gohan said. “But, I guess… Did you wet yourself in front of him once?” Gohan felt Vegeta’s chi spike abruptly, felt it continuing to rise. He saw Vegeta redden and realized he’d made an awful mistake. “B—But, I swear, he never TOLD me about it, I just figured it out because you’re—“ “I’ve never done THAT in front of Kakarot— Or anyone ELSE!” Vegeta yelled. “That’s NOT what I was asking about!” “O—Oh, okay…” Gohan said. “Then wha—“ “If you don’t know, then he must not have told you,” Vegeta said. “And I’M not telling you, either. So, be quiet and—“ “But, I still need to… Please, tell me I can use the bathroom?” “WHY do you need me to tell you that?” Vegeta snapped. “Are you trying to annoy me?” Gohan shook his head, “No, I just really need—“ “Somehow, you figured this out on your own, and you want to make a game of it. Is that it?” “Vegeta, you aren’t making ANY sense, just tell me that I can—“ “Well, it’s not funny,” Vegeta said. “Do you… Have to go too?” Gohan ventured. If that was the case, he didn’t understand why Vegeta didn’t just DO it… HE didn’t have to hear a trigger-phrase first! “That’s not a concern of yours,” Vegeta stated. “Drop the subject now, or else you’re going to learn what it feels like to get wished back with the dragon balls.” Gohan was fairly used to hearing Vegeta threaten him, and everyone around him. He never really meant it, but usually there was at least a REASON for the hostility. ‘May I use the bathroom? Do you also need to go?’ weren’t the sorts of questions that warranted ‘I will KILL you!’ as a response. Gohan went quiet, though. He could see the door to a restroom behind Vegeta, and yearned to rush through it. He just knew his body would fail to cooperate if he did… Gohan managed to remain silent for a few more seconds, before he felt a drip rolling down his leg and just HAD to ask again. “Can you please just tell me I can go the the restroom?” Vegeta furiously turned away, “Why do you keep asking? You just waltz in here all the time! Why are you suddenly asking permission to go somewhere?” “I… I just…” Gohan nibbled on his lip. He knew Vegeta was going to make fun of him… He was going to make fun of him, and probably take advantage of his habit, too. Once he knew Gohan couldn’t urinate until HE gave the order, he was sure to DEMAND something first. Probably a fight with HIM since Dad wasn’t around. Gohan was sure to get OBLITERATED if he made any attempt to fight now… Why did Vegeta have to be such a stubborn jerk? Why did he need to have this explained, why couldn’t he just say “Yes, Gohan. You may relieve yourself”? “I… Whe—When I was younger, all the… training I had to do. My body just got… Really used to only letting me pee according to a schedule, when someone else told me it was time… It’s, um, it’s psychological, like how you can teach an animal to respond to certain commands, and… Hah— I’ve been waiting all day, and nobody’s told me that I can pee yet, so I—“ “So, if I don’t TELL you to piss, you can’t do it?” Vegeta interrupted. Gohan nodded, ashamed. He braced himself for the laughter, the refusal, the demands… To his shock, Vegeta DIDN’T laugh, just frowned more. “If someone— ANYONE— tells you to relieve yourself, you just… Will?” More nodding, more blushing. Sometimes, when Gohan finally received the instruction, his holding muscles would go loose INSTANTLY and if he didn’t hurry, he’d leave a way-too-obvious wet spot on his clothes. “And you consider THAT a problem?” Gohan’s nods became more frantic. Of course it was a problem! If he was alone for too long, if whoever he was with told him ‘no’, or… Dragged out the process for some incomprehensible reason, then his bladder would ache so badly! Vegeta crossed his arms, and Gohan saw his shoulders shudder again. “Go find Bulma and ask her,” he said. “I won’t be participating in this.” “B—But, come on— It’s just a few words—“ “And you won’t be hearing them for me. So, if you need to go as bad as you claim, I’d suggest you ask someone else.” Gohan gave up. He should have known better than to ask Vegeta to begin with. He just didn’t understand what the man’s problem was! If Vegeta had started to laugh and make fun of him, at least it would make sense. Instead he’d seemed just ANGRY when Gohan explained what he needed. Anger WAS Vegeta’s default emotion, but it was almost like he’d gotten offended… He’d been so defensive and combative through their entire conversation that it REALLY sounded like he took it personally for some reason. Gohan tried not to think too hard about that. Vegeta was just a jerk, and Gohan had seldom understood his motivations for doing ANYTHING. This was most likely some coded way of telling Gohan to get tougher, by forcing him to hold his bladder even longer than he already had. He found Bulma in one of the labs, and shifted back and forth as she greeted him, rubbing his ankles together. “Is the suit I made you working?” She asked. “Y—Yes, um… I— May I please use the restroom?” “Yeah, of course. You don’t have to ask.” ‘Tell that to my bladder…’ Gohan thought wryly. As had happened before, the second he heard the permission being granted, he felt like something dropped out from underneath him. Everything holding his pee in place just snapped and disintegrated, and a stream started to snake down his leg. “Ah— Thank you!” He managed to exclaim before running off, a hand going to his groin as soon as he was sure Bulma could no longer see him. ‘Okay, nearest toilet is…’ He turned down one hallway, then another. Clutching himself WAS helping to keep his pee where it belonged, but little spurts hissed free every few steps. He wanted to start sprinting at full-speed, he knew THAT would get him to the bathroom within the blink of an eye, but he was sloshing his poor bladder’s contents up ENOUGH as it was! He made it to the restroom and shoved the door aside, already unzipping before it had finished swinging shut behind him. He aimed at the toilet, and his dull, halting stream transformed into a waterfall, finally allowing himself to drain out everything he’d been holding onto. “Phew…” he sighed. As he at last managed to relax, he came to understand that he had a bit of a problem now. If he’d lost his bathroom pass privileges at school, if his teachers were NEVER going to tell him ‘yes, go pee,’ then this… THIS was going to be a daily occurrence. They’d always say no if he asked DURING class, and if he asked afterwards, there was no guarantee they’d respond with a phrase his bladder accepted. It never took ‘Um, why do you think you need to ASK?’ as a form of permission. He needed to be directed SPECIFICALLY. There was… Videl. His friend. Perhaps, he could explain the situation to her, ask HER to please always tell him to use the toilet during their breaks. He could just… Repeatedly ask a really pretty girl to let him pee… Um… Wait. Did he just think Videl was pretty?! That was new! He’d never thought that way about anyone else before! But, the sudden realization that Videl was INDEED very attractive sent her straight to the BOTTOM of the list of people he’d want to request permission from. He’d even prefer the annoyance of whatever VEGETA had going on over that! Speaking of Vegeta, what WAS his issue, anyway? Looking back, Gohan realized the man had actually been BLUSHING a little earlier. That was VERY uncommon to see from him. ‘Did I hurt his feelings somehow?’ Gohan wondered. He didn’t know how he COULD have, but understood that Vegeta WAS pretty sensitive about… A lot of things. Up to and including the fact that he ever felt sensitive. Gohan finally finished urinating and zipped his pants up. A sore ache remained in his middle and, nervously, he rubbed a hand there. More dull throbs erupted beneath his touch. That REALLY wasn’t good. He could remember feeling this way after he’d finished before, and knew what to expect. He’d worn out his body. His bladder was going to feel fuller faster. If he didn’t figure out WHO to ask for permission from at school, it wasn’t impossible that he may have an accident tomorrow. Add onto that the knowledge that he was certainly harming his health, and Gohan felt very anxious as he left the restroom. He walked off, his steps coming a lot more easily now that he wasn’t weighted down. Nerves still pinged inside him, however. This was a really big problem! He accepted that having an accident at school would be way worse than requesting help from Videl, but still wished there was someone ELSE he could choose! Videl was just the only one there that he felt close to! When he went back through the living area, he expected to see Vegeta still there, he expected some kind of rude comment. But, the space was empty. The door to the restroom was shut, so Gohan figured he’d been correct in assuming that Vegeta ALSO needed to pee. Maybe he’d gotten so angry because Gohan was able to tell, or— “Dammit! Relieve yourself, Vegeta!” Gohan stumbled back, surprised by the sudden outburst. That hadn’t come close to reaching the decibels of Vegeta’s USUAL shouts. More a moaning yelp than anything. If Gohan hadn’t been so close to the door, he probably WOULDN’T have heard it. 

Gohan knew nothing of the training Vegeta had received as a kid. Was it at all similar to his own? Had he too had it ingrained into him not to pee without being ordered to? That WOULD explain why he’d taken everything so personally. He was probably thinking; “Yeah? Well, Frieza made me hold it for DAYS, so why should I let you go NOW? You need to learn what real desperation is!” Gohan didn’t hear any trickling from the other side of the door, so he assumed that, like him, Vegeta needed to hear someone ELSE use the phrase. It didn’t work if he heard it from his own mouth. Should he help…? Vegeta was… A difficult person to feel sympathy for, but the pain of his own full bladder was still fresh in Gohan’s mind. If Dad were here, he wouldn’t hesitate to help out. If Dad were here, he’d be irritated that Gohan WASN’T offering any assistance. “Yeah, Vegeta. Go ahead and pee,” Gohan called. He was certain that the next thing he’d hear would be the thunderous roar of a long held stream. Maybe even a sigh of relief, if Vegeta’s pride allowed it. But, after several seconds, Gohan didn’t hear anything at all. Maybe he’d been too quiet? “Vegeta, it’s—“ The door slammed open, and Vegeta was standing there, fury knotting his features, and his face still dotted with his rarely seen blush. The tremors moving from his shoulders all the way down to his knees confirmed that he hadn’t urinated at all. “How long have you been standing there?!” “Um… A couple minutes, are you—“ “I’m gonna—“ Gohan waved his hands, “H—Hang on!” He cried. “Calm down! What did I do?” Vegeta glowered. “NOTHING about these last few minutes EVER happened,” he stated. “If you breathe one word of ANY of it—“ “I won’t!” Gohan promised, particularly since he still didn’t understand WHAT had just happened. “You’d better,” Vegeta said darkly. “Now, get out. And if I hear you told someone, you’ll be having an early reunion with Kakarot.” “I— I won’t,” Gohan repeated, rushing out. He left Capsule Corp and began his flight home, tensely trying to figure out what THAT was about. Vegeta had looked more embarrassed than he’d EVER seen him. And, looking back, when he’d told himself to urinate, his voice had trembled a little, the sentence sounding dangerously close to a plea… Of course, when GOHAN tried to command himself to go, HE was begging too, but there was always the awareness that it WOULDN’T work. Vegeta, on the other hand, had sounded really hopeful. Like it was his first time even trying it… But, why would he need to try it? If he HADN’T been trained to await a command, he should just… go, right? If he HADN’T been trained to await a command, then why had he gotten so annoyed when Gohan said that HE had? He hadn’t brought up any memories for him, anything that he would feel ashamed o— Come to think of it, had Gohan ever seen Vegeta pee before? No, he couldn’t remember… He’d seen all the others relieve themselves in the past, most of them were guys, and they frequently trained in places that lacked toilets. But, he’d NEVER seen Vegeta do it. He could recall a few instances where he’d noticed Vegeta acting… uncharacteristically twitchy, and he’d wondered if he NEEDED to pee. However, as time wore on, Vegeta just got MORE fidgety, and never turned away to relieve himself. Thinking back, now he remembered something else. Usually, when Vegeta had been subtly squirming or rocking on his feet for a while, Dad would suddenly announce that they’d been training in THIS location for too long, and it was time for somewhere new. They’d all start to leave, and Vegeta ALWAYS said he’d catch up in a few minutes. This had confused Gohan a lot, he would have expected Vegeta to want to race them all there… And when Vegeta later DID turn up, his shuddering twitches would all be gone. If all his restlessness WAS due to an urge to urinate, it really looked like he refused to satiate it in the presence of others. It looked like Dad had KNOWN about that and had been trying to get him privacy. And, today, when he’d verbally begged his bladder to release, then failed to get anything out… Perhaps ‘refused’ was the wrong phrase. Vegeta must have been suffering from Paruresis, that was the only thing that made sense. That was the ‘strange thing’ he’d been so nervous Dad had told Gohan about. That was why he’d thought Gohan was teasing him. That was why, when Gohan explained HIS issue, Vegeta had failed to see it as a problem. Being able to pee upon hearing the word was surely leagues easier than not being able to do it at all. Gohan still felt the soreness in his bladder, a sign that it was exhausted and needed a break, that he’d HURT it today. He thought about the long, long hours he’d seen Vegeta go without privacy, and it was stunning to think that he must have just held it all that time, over and over. He could make himself pretty sick! It was a wonder he hadn’t already! Gohan didn’t want Vegeta to actually hurt himself. ‘He’s been handling it himself for years,’ he thought. ‘And, if you show any concern, if you tell him that you figured this out, he WILL turn you and everything you love into a smoldering crater.’ He could try to assure Vegeta that it was nothing to be ashamed of… ‘Try not to be embarrassed. I’ve read about this. It’s a physiological thing. The adrenaline rush that occurs when you feel anxious causes a nervous system response that makes the neck of your bladder tighten involuntarily. The detrusor muscle, which should contract when you go to pee, is being inhibited by a sort of ‘block’ in the reflex pathway with your pontine micturition center— That’s the area of your brainstem that regulates urination. So, there are a lot of body parts involved, you can’t control it. This isn't your fault.’ He was sure Vegeta would punch him in the face at least twelve times before he even finished saying all of that. Gohan was worried about Vegeta, but saw no way to assist him without getting himself injured in the process. He was positive DAD had been helping, and just wished he was still around to do it. That had been a few months ago now. Dad WAS back, the world was at peace… Gohan had seen Vegeta whisper something to Dad a few times before the two of them abruptly left somewhere together. Gohan had a feeling he knew what was happening there, and since Dad appeared to have it handled, he stopped worrying about it himself. He pretended like he didn’t remember the events of that afternoon, that he’d forgotten them just like Vegeta had ordered him to. Vegeta himself had done well to push that day from his mind. Recalling the confusion displayed by Kakarot’s son, he doubted he’d managed to figure anything out. He also felt confident he’d adequately threatened Gohan away from investigating it any further on his own. Reluctantly, Vegeta acknowledged that the ‘system’ he had with Kakarot now worked pretty well. It had… prevented him from experiencing the back cramps for a while, anyway. His worst fear, that he’d experience that sensation while in a large crowd and be unable to restrain his shout of pain, seemed less likely to ever come true. He perhaps let himself get TOO comfortable, though. When he finally DID have another big ‘incident’, he was NOT prepared for how it would make him feel.

Pre-T vs Post-T: No significant difference in how it felt to pee, or how it felt to hold it. Most noticeable change was just in the smell (It's stronger on T). I sort of peed oddly pre-op, my stream went more straight outwards instead of down so if I sat it would sometimes get in the space between the seat and the rim. I think that happened a little more often after I started T (That might have had to do with bottom-growth), but since I only really sat to pee if it was the middle of the night or if I wasn't feeling well, it wasn't too often. I started using stand-to-pee devices pretty early First one was a home-made thing made out of a medicine spoon, then I used some of the funnel kinds (Like the SheWee but I can't remember if that's the one I had or not.) When I got older I was using STPs that doubled as packers and could be worn all the time. There were a lot of comparisons to make with the STPs, each one I kind of had to learn how to use. (Where to place it, how fast I could pee without it overflowing, etc.) And, when I started using the packer kind, those were much more convenient since I could just unzip and go without having to take anything out of a pocket and move it to the right spot. Pre-Phallo vs Post-Phallo: More differences here for sure. Right after surgery, there isn't very much feeling and it comes back over time*, and you're also catheterized for a bit which feels weird. (I've written about that in one of the fiction stories I've posted). Once feeling was back and I was peeing normally, I think there is a slight change in what I feel when I need to pee. It's the same kind of feeling, but not quite in the same spot if that makes sense? It's difficult to describe. Sometimes, and only if I'm extremely desperate, I feel it more throughout my dick. And, if I have to hold myself, squeezing both at the tip and around the length seems to help more than just holding the tip. Peeing is different now too. Some of that is just from not having to press an STP underneath myself and worry about overflowing or placing it wrong. Of course, I can pee in more directions now, which is fun since my partner and I have been experimenting with watersports-type stuff lately. The relief is the same basic sensation it always was but, again, some of it is more concentrated in a different spot. Sitting to pee actually feels different too. I don't have the "spraying" issue anymore, for one. And I feel a lot more comfortable sitting down to go now than I did before. Before, the sound it made when I sat really bothered me. And, this is hard to explain, but I could kind of... "feel" my old parts more clearly when I was sitting on the toilet, which I didn't like. That's all changed now. I guess it's kind of funny that I got an operation that makes it easier to pee standing up, and it had the side-effect of finally making me feel okay if I have to sit. *(If anyone's thinking about doing it, "general" feeling comes back first, like the touch of fabric or water and the ability to sense temperature. "Erotic" feeling takes longer-- I'm not able to compare pre-op and post-op orgasms since I was never able to cum before my surgery.)